Richard Penlake was a cheerful man,

Cheerful and frank and free, But he led a sad life with Rebecca his wife,

For a terrible shrew was she.

Richard Penlake a scolding would take,

Till patience avail'd no longer, Then Richard l'enlake bis crab-stick would take,

And show her that he was the stronger.

While Henry V lay at the siege of Dreus, an honest Hermit onknown to him, camu and told bim ibe great evils be brougbt os Christendom by his unjust ambition, who usorped the kingdom of France, against all manner of right, and contrary to the will of God; wherefore in his holy name be threatened bim with a severe and sadden punishment if he desisted not from bis enterprise. llenry took this exhortation either as an idle wbimsey, or a sareestion of the dauphin's, and was but the more confirmed in his desira. But ihe blow soon followed the threatening; for within some few months after be was smitten with a strange and incurable disease. MEZEKAY.

Rebecca his wife had often wish'd

To sitiu St Michael's chair; For she should be the mistress then

If she had once sat there.

It chanced that Richard Penlake fell sick,

They thought he would have died; Rebecca his wife made a vow for his life

As she koelt by luis bed-side.

He past unquestiou'd through the camp,

Their heads the soldiers bent
In silent reverence, or begg'd

A blessing as he went;
And so the lermit past along

And reached the royal tent,

« Now hear my prayer, St Michael! and spare

My hushand's life,» quoth she; « And to thine altar we will

80, Six marks to give to thee.» Richard Peplake repeated the vow,

For woundily sick was he; « Save me, St Michael, and we will go

Six marks to give to thee.»

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When Richard grew well, Rebecca his wife

Teazed him by night and by day: «O mine own dear! for you I fear,

1 If we the vow delay.» Merrily, merrily rung the bells,

The bells of St Michael's tower, When Richard Penlake and Rebecca his wife

Arrived at St Michael's door.

« Repent thee, Henry, of the wrongs

Which thou hast done this land! O King, repent in time, for know

The judgment is at hand.

Six marks they on the altar laid,

And Richard knelt in prayer: She left him to pray, and stole away

To sit in St Michael's chair.

«I have past forty years


peace Beside the river Blaise, But what a weight of woe hast thou

Laid on my latter days!

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Cornelius Agrippa went out one day,
His Study he lock'd ere lie went away,
And he gave the key of the door to liis wife,
Jud charged her to keep it lock'd on her life.

« And if any one ask my Study to see,
I charge you trust them not with the key;
Whoever may beg, and entreat, and implore,

your life let nobody enter that door.»

There lived a young man in the house, who in vain
Access to that Study had sought to obtain;
And he bec'd and pray'd the books to see,
Till the foolish woman gave him the key.

François Petrarque, fort renommé entre les Poètes Italiens, discourant en une epistre son voyage de Fraincu et d'Allemaiffnu, nous raconte que passant par la ville d'Aix, il apprit de quelques Prestres une histoire prodigieuse qu'ils tenoient de main en main pour tres veritable. Qui estoit que Charles le Grand, apres avoir conquestó plusieurs pays, s'esperdit de telle façon en l'amour d'une simple femme, que mettant tout honneur et reputation in arriere, il oublia non seulement les affaires de son royaume, mais aussi le soing de sa propre personne, au grand desplaisir de chacun ; estant seulement ententif à courtiser ceste dame : laquelle par bonheur commenca à s'aliter d'une grosse maladie, qui lui apport à la mort. Dont les Princes et grands Seigneurs furent fort resjouis, esperan que par ceste mort, Charles reprendroit comme devant et ses esprits et les atlaires du royaume en main : toutesfois il se trouva tellement infatué de ceste amour, qu'encoros cherissoit-il cu cadaver, l'embrassant, baisant, accolant de la mesma façon que devant, et au lieu de prester l'oreille aux legations qui luy survenoient, il l'entretenoit de mille bayes, comme s'il eusi este plein de vie. Ce corps commençoit dejà non seulement à mal sentir, mais aussi se tournoit en putrefaction, et neantmoins n'y avoit aucun de ses favoris qui luy en osast parler; dout advint que l'Archievesque Turpin mieux advisé que les autres, pourpensa que telle chose ne pouvoit estre advenu, sans quelque sorcellerie. Au moyeu de quoy espiant un jour 1 heure que le Roy s'estoit absenté de la chambre, commença de fouiller le corps de toutesparts, finalement trou va dans sa bouche au dessous de sa langue un anneau qu'il luy osta. De jour mesine Charlemaigou resournant sur ses premieres brisees, se trouva fort estonné de soir une carcaisse ainsi paante, Parquoy, commo's'il se fast resveillé d'un profuod sommeil, commanda que l'on l'ensevelist promptement. Ce qui fut fait; mais en contr' eschange de ceste folie, il tourna tous ses pensemens vers l'Archevesque porteur de cost anneau, ne pouvant estre de là en avant sans luy, et le suivant en tous les endroits. Quoy voyant ce sage Prelat, et craiguant que cest anneau ne tombast en muips de quelque autre, le jotta dans un lac prochain de la ville. D.pais lequel temps on dit que ce Roy se trouve si espris de l'amour du lieu, qu'il se desempara la ville d'Aix, où il bastit un Palais, et

On the Study-table a book there lay,
Which Agrippa himself had been reading that day,
The letters were written with blood within,
And the leaves were made of dead men's skin.

And these horrible leaves of magic between
Were the ugliest pictures that ever were seen,
The likeness of things so foul to behold,
That what they were is not fit to be told.

The young man, he began to read
He knew not what, but he would proceed,
When there was heard a sound at the door
Which as he read on grew more and more.

And now,

un Monastere, en l un desquels il partit le reste de ses jours et en Now merriment, joyaunce, and feasting again
l'autre voulut estre ensevely, o donnant par son testament que Enlivened the palace of Aix;
tous les Empereurs de Rome eussent à se faire sacrer premierement
en ce lieu.»—Les Recherches de la France, d'Estienne Pasquier. Pa- And now by his heralds did King Charlemain
ris. 161.

Invite to his palace the courtier train

To hold a high festival day.
It was strange that he loved her, for youth was gone by,
And the bloom of her beauty was fled;

And anxiously now for the festival day 'T was the glance of the harlot that gleam'd in her eye,

The highly-born Maidens prepare; And all but the Monarch could plainly descry

all apparellid in costly array, From whence came her while and her red.

Exuluing they come to the palace of Aix,

Young and aged, the brave and the fair.
Yet he thought with Agatha none might compare,
And he gloried in wearing her chain;

Oh! happy the Damsel who 'mid her compeers
The court was a desert if she were not there,

For a moment engaged the king's eye! To him she alone among womco secm'd fair,

Now glowing with hopes and now fever'd with fears, Such dotage possess'd Charlemain.

Each maid or triumphant, or jealous, appears,

As noticed by liim, or past by.
The soldier, the statesman, the courrier, the maid,
Alike the proud leman detest;

And now as the evening approach'd, to the ball
And the good old Archbishop, who ceased to upbraid, la anxious suspense they advance,
Shook his grey head in sorrow, and silently pray'd Each hoped the king's choice on her beauties might fall,
That he soon miglit consign her to rest.

When lo! to the uuer confusion of all,

He ask'd the Archbishop to dance.
A joy ill-dissembled soon gladdens them all,
For Agatha sickens and dies.

'The damsels they laugh and the barons they stare, And now they are ready with bier and with pall, 'T was mirth and astonishment all; The tapers gleam gloomy amid the high hall,

And the Archbishop started and mutter'd a prayer, And the strains of the requiem arise.

And, wroth at receiving such mockery there,

Withdrew him in haste from the hall.
But Charlemain he sent them in anger away,
For she should not be buried, he said;

The moon dimpled over the water with light
And despite of all counsel, for many a day,

As he wander'd along the lake side; Where array'd in her costly apparel she lay,

When lo! where beside him the King met his sight; The Monarch would sit by the dead.

« Oh turn thee, Archbishop, my joy and delight,

Oh turn thee, my charmer,» he cried ; The cares of the Kingdom demand him in vain,

« Oh come where the feast and the dance and the song And the army cry out for their Lord;

Javite thee to mirth and to love; The Lombards, the fierce misbelievers of Spain,

Or at this happy moment away from the throng Now ravage the realms of the proud Charlemain,

To the sharle of yon wood let us hasten along, And still lic unshcatbes not the sword.

The moon never pierces that grove.» The Soldiers they clamour, the Monks bend in prayer

Amazement and anger the Prelate possest, In the quiet retreats of the cell;

With terror his accents he heard, The Physicians to counsel together repair,

Then Charlemain warmly and eagerly prest They pause and they ponder, at last they declare

The Archibishop's old witherd hand to his breast, That his senses are bound by a spell.

And kiss'd his old grey grizzle beard. With relics protected, and consident grown,

« Let us well then these fortunate moments employ!» And telling devoutly his beads,

Cried the Monarch with passionate tone : The Archbishop prepares him, and when it was known, « Comne away then, dear charmer,-my angel,-myjoy, That the King for a while left the body alone,

Nay struggle not now,-'1 is in vain to be

coy, To look for the spell he proceeds.

And remember that we are alone.»

Now careful he searches with tremulous haste

For the spell that bewitches the king; And under the tongue for security placed, Its margin with mystical characters traced,

At length he discovers a ring.

« Blessed Mary, protect me !» the Arclibishop cried;

« What madness is come to the King!»
In vain to escape from the Monarch he tried,
Wien luckily he on his finger espied

The glitter of Agatha's ring.

Rejoicing he seized it and hastened away,

The Monarch re-entered the room,
The enchantment was ended, and suddenly gay
He bade the attendants no longer delay,

But bear her with speed to the tomb.

Overjoy'd, the old Prelate remember'd the spell,

And far in the lake tlung the ring; | The waters closed round it, and, wondrous to tell, Released from the cursed enchantment of hell,

llis reason return'd to thc King.

But he built him a palace there close by the bay,

And there did he 'stablish his reign; And the traveller who will, may behold at this day A monument still in the ruins of Aix Of the spell that possessid Charlemain.



For dust and ashes to fall out with dirt;
And then he only hung it out in the rain,

And put it on again.

There has been perilous work
With him and the Devil there in yonder cell;
For Satan used to maul him like a Turk.
There they would sometimes fight
All through a winter's night,

From sun-set until morn,
He with a cross, the Devil with his horn;
The Devil spitting fire with might and main
Enough to make St Michael half afraid;
He splashing holy water till he made

His red hide hiss again,
And the hot vapour fill'd the smoking cell.

This was so common that his face became
All black and yellow with the brimstone flame,
And then he smelt,--Oh Lord! how he did smell!

« Then, Sir! to see how he would mortify
The flesh! If any one had dainty fare,

Good man, he would come there,
And look at all the delicate things, and cry,

O Belly, Belly!
You would be gormandizing now I know;

But it shall not be so!-
Home to your bread and water-home, I tell ye!'»

• Les Catalans ayant appris que S. Romuald vouloit quitter leurs pays, en furent très-affigés ; ils delibérèrent sur les moyens de l'en empecher, et le seul qu'ils imaginèrent comme le plus sûr, fut de le tuer, afin de profiter du moins de sos reliques et des guerisons et autres miracles qu'elles opéreroient après sa mort.

La dévotion que les Catalans avoient pour lui, ne plut point du tout à S. Romuald ; il usa de stratagème et leur échappa..--Sr Foix, Essais Historiques sur Paris, 1. v. p. 163.

St Foix, who is often more amusing than trustworthy, has fathered this story upon the Spaniards, though it belongs to his own countrymen, ibe cirenmstance having happened when Romuald was a monk of the Convent of St Michael's, in Aquitaine. It is thus related by Yepes. En esta ocasion sucedió una cosa bien extraordinaria, porque los naturales de la tierra donde estava el monasterio de San Miguel, estimavan en tanto a San Romoaldo, que foltandoles la paciencia de que se quisiesse yr, dieron en un terrible disparate, a quien llama muy bien San Pedro Damiano Impia Pietas, piedad cruel : porque queriendose yr San Romoaldo, determinaron de matarle, para que ya que no le podian tener en su tierra vivo, alomenos gozassen de sus reliquias y cuerpo santo. Supo San Romoaldo la determinacion bestial y indiscreta de aquella gente: y tomó una prudente resolucion, porque imitando a David, que tingió que estava loco, por no caer en manos de sus enemigos, assi Sau Romoaldo se hizo raer la cabeça, y con algunos ademanes, y palabras mal concertadas que dezia, lo tuvieron por hombre que le avia faltado el juyzio, con que se asseguraron los naturales de la tierra que ya perpetuamente le tendrian en ella : y con semejante estratagema y traça tuvo lugar San Romoaldo du hurtarse, y a cencerros topados (como dicon) buyr de aquella tierra, y llegar a Italia a la ciudad de Ravena.. - Coronica General de la Onlen de San Benito, t. , ff. 14.

Villegas in his Flos Sanctorum (Febrnary 7th), records some of St Romuald's achievements against the Devil and bis imps. He records also the other virtues of the Saint, as specified in the poem. They are more fully stated by Yepes. Tenia tres cilicios, los quales mudava de treynta en treynta dias: no los labava, sino ponialos al ayre, y á la agua que llovía, con que se matavan algunas inmundicias, que se criaran en ellos.»--ff. 298. Quando alguna vez era tentado de la cula, y desseava comer de algun manjar, 10masale en las manos, miravale, oliale, y despues que estava despierto el apetito, dezia, 0 gula, gula, quan dulce y suave te parece este manjar! pero no te ha de entrar en provecho! y entonces se mortificava, y le dexava, y le embiava entero, o al silleriço, o a los pobres, -Ibid. More concerning St Romuald may be seen in the Omniana, vol. i.

«But,» quoth the Traveller, «wherefore did he leave

A flock that knew his saintly worth so well?»
«Why,» said the Landlord, «Sir, it so befell

Ile heard unluckily of our intent
To do him a great honour: and, you know,

He was not covetous of fame below,
And so by stealth one night away he went. »

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«What might this honour be?» the Traveller cried;

«Why, Sir, » the Host replied, We thought perhaps that he might one day leave us;

And then should strangers have

The good man's grave;
A loss like that would naturally grieve us,
For he 'll be made a Saint of to be sure.
Therefore we thought it prudent to secure

llis relics while we might;
And so we meant to strangle him one night.»

ONE day, it matters not to know

years ago, A Frenchman stopt at an ina door: The Landlord came to welcome him, and chat

Of this and that, For he had seen the Traveller there before.


« Doth holy Romuald dwell

Still in his cell?» The Traveller ask'd, «or is the old man dead ? »

« No; he has left his loving flock, and we

So good a Christian never more shall see,» The Landlord answer'd, and he shook his licad.

The people at Isna, in Upper Egyp, have a superstition concerning Crocodiles similar to that entertained in the West Indies; they say there is a King of them who resides near Isna, and who has cars, but no tail; and be possesses an uncommon regal quality, ibat of doing no barm. Some are bold enough to assert that they have seen him.- Brown's Travels.'

Now, Woman, wly without your

veil? And wherefore do


look so pale? And, Woman, why do you groan so sadly, And wherefore beat your bosom madly?»

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* Mr Browne had probably forgotten one of our legal axioms, or be would not bave conceived that the privilege of doing no wrong was peculiar to this long-ear'd Sovereign.

« Oh! I have lost my darling boy,
In whom my soul had all its joy;
And I for sorrow have torn my veil,
And sorrow hath made my very heart pale.

«You have done well,» the King replies, And fixd on her his little eyes; «Good Woman, yes, you have done right, But you have not described me quite. «I have no tail to strike and slay, And I have ears to hear what you say: I have teeth moreover, as you may see, And I will make a meal of thee.>>



« Oh, I have lost my darling child,
And that's the loss that makes me wild;
He stoop'd to the river down to drink,
And there was a Crocodile by the brink.
«He did not venture in to swim,
He only stoop'd to drink at the brim;
But under the reeds the Crocodile lay,
And struck with his tail and swept him away.
« Now take me in your boat, I pray,
For down the river lies my way,
And me to the Reed-Island bring,
For I will go to the Crocodile King.
«The King of the crocodiles never does wrong,
He has no tail so stiff and strong,
He has no tail to strike and slay,
But he has ears to hear what I


Betweene the Cyteo and the Chirche of Bethlebem, is the felde Floridus, ibat is to seyne, the felde floriched. For als moche as a fayre Maşden was blamed with wrong and sclaundred, that sche hadd don fornicacioun, for wbiche cause scbe was denied to the deibe, and to be brent in ibat place, to the whiche sche was ladd. And as the fyre began to brenne about hire, she made her preteres to oure Lord, that als wissely as sche was not gylty of that sane, that he wold help bire, and make it to be kpowen to alle mea of his mercyfulle grace; and w banne sche had thus seyd, sche entered into the fuyer, and anon was the fuyer quencbed and oute, and be brondes that weren breonynge, becomen white Roseres, falle of roses, and theise werein the first Roseres and roses, both white and rede, that every ony man saugbe. And thus was ibis Maiden saved bo the grace of God. - The Voinge and Traivaile of Sir John Mazrdeville.

«And to the King I will complain,
How my poor child was wickedly slain;
The King of the Crocodiles he is good,
And I shall have the murderer's blood.»

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The man replied, «No, Woman, no, To the Island of Reeds I will not go; I would not for any worldly thing See the face of the Crocodile King.»

«Then lend me now your little boat,
And I will down the river float.
I tell thce that no worldly thing
Shall keep me from the Crocodilc King.»
The Woman she leapt into the boat,
And down the river alone did she float,
And fast with the stream the boat proceeds,
And now she is come to the Island of Recds.

Nay, Edin! spare the Rose;—perhaps it lives,
And feels the noon-tide sun, and drinks refresh'd
The dews of night; let not thy genile hand
Tear its life-strings asunder, and destroy
The sense of being !-Why that infidel smile?
Come, I will bribe thee to be merciful;
And thou shalt have a tale of other days,
For I am skill'd in legendary lore,
So thou wilt let it live. There was a time
Ere this, the freshest, sweetest flower that blooms,
Bedeck'd the bowers of earth. Thou hast pot heard
How first by miracle its fragrant leaves
Spread to the sun their blushing loveliness.

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The King of the Crocodiles there was seen,
He sat upon the eggs of the Queen,
And all around a numerous rout
The young Prince Crocodiles crawld about.
The Woman shook every limb with fear,
As she to the Crocodile King came near,
For never man without fear and awe
The face of his Crocodile Majesty saw.
She fell upon her bended knee,
And said, «O King, have pity on me,
For I have lost my darling child,
And that's the loss that makes me wild.

There dwelt at Bethlehem a Jewish maid,
And Zillalt was her name, so passing fair
That all Judea spake the virgin's praise.
He who had seen her eyes' dark radliance
How it revealu her soul, and what a soul
Beam'd in the mild effulgence, woe was he!
For not in solitude, for not in crowds,
Might be escape remembrance, nor avoid
Her imaged form which followed every where,
And filld the lieart, and fix'd the absent eye.
Woe was he, for ber bosom own'd no love
Save the strong ardours of religious zeal,
For Zillah on ber God had cepter'd all
Her spirit's deep affections. So for ber
Her tribes-men sigli'd in vain, yet reverenced
The obdurate virtue that destroy'd their hopes.

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«A Crocodile ale bim for his food;
Now let me have the murderer's blood,
Let me have vengeance for my boy,
The only thing that can give me joy.
«I know that you, Sire! never do wrong,
You have no tail so stiff and strong,
You have no tail to strike and slay,
But you have cars 19 hear what I say.»

One man there was, a vain and wretched man,
Who saw, desired, despair'd, and hated her.
His sensual eye had gloated on lier check
Even till the flush of angry modesty
Gave it new charms, and made him gloat the more.
She loathi'd the man, for Hamuel's eye was bold,
And the strong workings of brute selfishness
llad moulded his broad features; and she fear'd

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