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Farewell, farewell, my gude Lord Scroope

My gude Lord Scroope, farewell ! he cried. *I'll pay you for my lodging-mail

When first we meet on the border-side,'
“ Then shoulder high, with shout and cry,

We bore him down the ladders lang;
At every stride Red Rowan made

I wot the Kinsmon's airns played clang.
"Oh, mony a time,' quo' Kinmont Willie,

• I have ridden horse baith well and wood ;
But a rougher beast than Red Rowan,

I ween, my legs have ne'er bestrode.
• And mony a time,' quo' Kinmont Willie,

'I've pricked a horse out ower the firs,
But, since the day I back'd a steed,

I never wore sic cumbrous spurs.'
“ We scarce had won the Hanshaw bank,

When a' the Carlisle bells were rung,
And a thousand men on borse and foot

Cam wi' the keen Lord Scroope along.
“ Buccleugh has turn’d to Eden Water,

Even where it flow'd frae bank to brim,
And he has plunged in wi' a' his band,

And safely swam them through the stream.
6 He turn'd him on the other side,

And at Lord Scroope his glove flung he :--
* If ye like na' my visit in merry England,

In fair Scotland come visit me.'
“ All sore astonish'd stood Lord Scroope;

He stood as still as rock of stane;
He scarcely dared to trew his eyes

When through the water they had gane.
" He is either himself, a (diel from below ;)

Or else his mother a witch maun be;
I wadna' ha'e ridden that wean water

For a' the gowd in Christentie.'

As fine a specimen of the ancient ministrelsy as can be given is what Coleridge called “the grand old ballad of Sir Patrick Spens.” It is one of the historical ballads, the precise occasion of which is wrapped, however, in mystery, except that it has some relation to the Scottish princess who was seated on the throne of Norway, thus occasioning an intercourse between those two countries.

It is a nobleexample of the unknownminstrel's powers of description:

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“ The king sits in Dunfermline town,

Drinking the blude-red wine ;
Oh, where will I get a skuly skipper

To sail this new ship of mine?'
“Oh, up and spake an eldern knight

Sat at the king's right knee :-
Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor

That ever sail'd the sea.'
“Our king has written a braid letter,

And seal'd it with his hand, And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens

Was walking on the strand. • To Norroway, to Norroway,

To Norroway o'er the faim ; The king's daughter of Norroway,

'T is thou maun bring her hame.'
“ The first word that Sir Patrick read,

Sae loud, loud laughéd he;
The niest word that Sir Patrick read,

The tear blinded his e'e.
“Oh, wha is this has done this deed,

And tauld the king o' me,
To send us out, at this time o' the year,

To sail upon the sea ? "• Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be it sleet,

Our ship must sail the faim;
The king's daughter of Norroway,-

'T is we must fetch her hame.' “ They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn,

Wi' a' the speed they may:
They ha'e landed in Norroway,

Upon a Wodensday.
They had na been a week, a week,

In Norroway, but twae,
When that the lords of Norroway

Began aloud to say,“ • Ye Scottishmen spend a' our king's gowd,

And a' our queene's fee.' Ye lie, ye lie, ye liars laud,

Fu' laud I hear ye lie. “For I brought as much white monie

As gars my men and me; And I brought a half-fu' of gude red gowd

Out ower the sea wi' me.

SIR PATRICK SPENS.

95

"• Make ready, make ready, my merry men a',

Our gude ship sails the morn ;' *Now ever alack, my master dear!

I fear a deadly storm. " " I saw the new moon, late yestre'en,

Wi' the old moon in her arm;
And if we gang to sea, master,

I fear we 'll come to harm.'
They had na' sailed a league, a league,

A league but barely three,
When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud,

And gurly grew the sea.
“ T'he ankers brake and the topmasts lap,

It was sic a deadly storm ;
And the waves came o'er the broken ship

Till a' her sides were torn.
“Oh, where will I get a gude sailor,

To take my helm in hand
Till I get up to the tall topmast

To see if I can spy land ?'
“Oh, here am I, a sailor gude,

To take the helm in hand,
Till you go up to the tall topmast :
But I fear

you 'll ne'er spy land.' “He had na' gane a step, a step,

A step but barely ane, -
When a bout flew out of (the) goodly ship,

And the salt sea it came in.
"Gae fetch a web o' the silken claith,

Another o' the twine,
And wap them into our ship's side,

And let na' the sea come in.'
“They fetch'd a web o'the silken claith,

Another o' the twine,
And they wapp'd them round that gude ship's side,

But still the sea cam in.
“Oh, laith, laith were our gude Scots lords

To weet their cork-heel'd shoon; But lang or a' the play was play'd

They wat their hats aboon.
And mony was the feather-bed

That flutter'd on the faim;
And mony was the gude lord's son

That never mair cam hame.

“The ladyes wrang their fingers white,

The maidens tore their hair,
A' for the sake of their true loves, --

For them they 'll see nae mair.
“Half ower, half ower to Heberdom

'Tis fifty fathoms deep,
And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens,

Wi' the Scots lords at his feet."

Let me take leave of these ancient strains with one very short fragment,--Armstrong's “Good-night,”—in which, if I have been presuming too much upon your patience, you may find a wish of your own expressed for you :

“ This night is my departing night;

For here nae longer must I stay ;
There's neither friend nor foe o' mine

But wishes me away.
“What I have done through lack of wit

I never, never can recall;
I hope ye’re a' my friends as yet:
Good-night, and joy be with you

all."

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LECTURE V.

Shakspeare.

SPENSER'S DEATH AND SHAKSPEARE'S BIRTH-INFLUENCE OF THE AGE-INDE

PENDENCE OF HIS IMAGINARY CREATIONS-SMALL KNOWLEDGE OF THE INDIVIDUAL-UNSELFISHNESS OF GENIUS-A SPIRITUAL VOICE IN ALL TIMESHAKSPEARE TRADITIONS—HIS BIRTH, A. D. 1564-DEATH, A. D. 1616-CERVANTES'S DEATH-EPITAPH-EDUCATION - BEN JONSON-POWER OVER LANGUAGE-THE DRAMATIC ART CONGENIAL TO HIS GENIUS-KENILWORTH AND QUEEN ELIZABETH-SHAKSPEARE IN LONDON—THE ARMADA-HIS PATRIOTISM AND LOYALTY -SUBJECTIVENESS OF THE MODERN EUROPEAN MIND-SHAKSPEARE AND BACON-VENUS AND ADONIS-LUCRECE-THE DRAMAS—THE SONNETS-DRAMATIC ART IN ENGLAND-SACRED DRAMAS-MYSTERIES AND MORALITIES-HEYWOODMINOR DRAMATISTS_“THE GENTLE SHAKSPEARE”-THE ACTING DRAMA-PRIMITIVE THEATRES-MODERN ADAPTATIONS-LEAR AND RICHARD III.-THE SUPERNATURAL OF THE DRAMA-MACBETH-THE TEMPEST HIS LAST POEM.

A

T the very time when, in an obscure lodging in London, the

sorrows and the worldly troubles so meekly complained of in various passages of his

poems, there was dwelling under some humble roof of the same city the mightiest of his many contemporaries among the poets,-WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. The beginning of his dramatic career dates about the time of the publication of the “Fairy Queen,” not far from the close of the sixteenth century. The term of his authorship belongs not, like Spenser's, exclusively to the reign of Queen Elizabeth, but, beginning in that reign, it survives during a portion of that of her successor, James I.

At the outset of these lectures I took occasion to recognise as one of the offices of criticism to trace the correspondence between the spirit of a great author and that of his age and country, as well as the course of his personal life. The historical and biographical illustrations have a value which no careful student should overlook ; for often he will find that a knowledge of the temper of the times, the characteristics of the age, and the individual position of the author, will give a deeper insight into his genius. But, important as this process of criticism is, it is essentially subordinate to the higher functions of criticism,--the philosophy of judging the creations of genius by immutable principles of truth, above the range of all that is local, personal, or temporary. It is a prime element of the best order of intellectual endowment to dwell,

H

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