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 his crab-stick would take, And show her that he was the stronger. Rebecca his wife had often wish'd To sit in St Michael's chair; For she should be the mistress then If she had once sat there. It chanced that Richard Penlake fell sick, As she knelt by his bed-side. «Now hear my prayer, St Michael! and spare My husband's life,» quoth she; « And to thine altar we will go, Richard Penlake repeated the vow, « Save me, St Michael, and we will go When Richard grew well, Rebecca his wife Teazed him by night and by day: «O mine own dear! for you I fear, If we the vow delay.»> KING HENRY V. AND THE HERMIT OF DREUX. While Henry V lay at the siege of Dreux, an honest Hermit unknown to him, came and told him the great evils he brought on Christendom by his unjust ambition, who usurped the kingdom of France, against all manner of right, and contrary to the will of God; wherefore in his holy name he threatened him with a severe and sudden punishment if he desisted not from his enterprise.— Henry took this exhortation either as an idle whimsey, or a sugges tion of the dauphin's, and was but the more confirmed in his design. But the blow soon followed the threatening; for within some few months after be was smitten with a strange and incurable disease.— MEZERAY. He past unquestion'd through the camp, A blessing as he went; And reached the royal tent. King Henry sate in his tent alone, Fresh conquests he was planning there To grace the future day. King Henry lifted up his eyes The intruder to behold; With reverence he the hermit saw, For the holy man was old, « Repent thee, Henry, of the wrongs Which thou hast done this land! O King, repent in time, for know I have past forty years of peace But what a weight of woe hast thou «I used to see along the stream The white sail sailing down, That wafted food in better times To yonder peaceful town. « Henry! I never now behold <<I used to hear the traveller's voice Or maiden as she loiter'd home «No traveller's voice may now be heard, In fear he hastens by, But I have heard the village maid «I used to see the youths row down KING CHARLEMAIN. François Petrarque, fort renommé entre les Poëtes Italiens, discourant en une epistre son voyage de France et d'Allemagne, 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 conquesté 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, esperans que par ceste mort, Charles reprendroit comme devant et ses esprits et les affaires du royaume en main: toutesfois il se trouva tellement infatué de ceste amour, qu'encores cherissoit-il ce cadaver, l'embrassant, baisant, accolant de la mesme façon que devant, et au lieu de prester l'oreille aux legations qui luy survenoient, il l'entretenoit de mille bayes, comme s'il eust esté 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; dont advint que l'Archevesque Turpin mieux advisé que les autres, pourpensa que telle chose ne pouvoit estre advenue sans quelque sor cellerie. Au moyeu de quoy espiant un jour I heure que le Roy s'estoit absenté de la chambre, commença de fouiller le corps de toutesparts, finalement trouva dans sa bouche au dessous de sa langue un anneau qu'il luy osta. De jour mesme Charlemaigue retournant sur ses premieres brisees, se trouva fort estonné de voir une carcaisse ainsi puante, Parquoy, comme s'il se fust resveillé d'un profond 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 cest anneau, ne pouvant estre de la en avant sans luy, et le suivant en tous les endroits. Quoy voyant ce sage Prelat, et craiguant que cest anneau ne tombast en mains de quelque autre, le jetta dans un lac prochain de la ville. Depuis 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 Les Catalans ayant appris que S. Romuald vouloit quitter leurs pays, en furent très-affligés; ils delibérérent sur les moyens de l'en empêcher, et le seul qu'ils imaginèrent comme le plus sûr, fut de le tuer, afin de profiter du moins de ses 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.-ST Foix, Essais Historiques sur Paris, t. 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, the circumstance 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 fingió 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, le 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 dizen) huyr de aquella tierra, y llegar a Italia a la ciudad de Ravena.-Coronica General de la Orden de San Benito, t. v, ff. 274. For dust and ashes to fall out with dirt; There has been perilous work From sun-set until morn, He with a cross, the Devil with his horn; And the hot vapour fill'd the smoking cell. << Then, Sir! to see how he would mortify You would be gormandizing now I know; Home to your bread and water-home, I tell ye!'» <«<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 He 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.»> Villegas in his Flos Sanctorum (February 7th), records some of St Romuald's achievements against the Devil and his 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 à la agua que llovia, con que se matavan algunas inmundicias, que se criavan en ellos."-ff. 298. Quando alguna «We thought perhaps that he might one day leave us; vez era tentado de la gula, y desseava comer de algun manjar, tomavale en las manos, miravale, oliale, y despues que estava despierto el apetito, dezia, O 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. ONE day, it matters not to know How many hundred years ago, A Frenchman stopt at an inn 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 The Traveller ask'd, «or is the old man dead?» « Ah, Sir! we knew his worth! If ever there did live a Saint on earth!Why, Sir, he always used to wear a shirt For thirty days, all seasons, day and night: Good man, he knew it was not right <<What might this honour be?» the Traveller cried; «Why, Sir, the Host replied, 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 His relics while we might; And so we meant to strangle him one night.» THE KING OF THE CROCODILES. The people at Isna, in Upper Egypt, 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 ears, but no tail; and he possesses an uncommon regal quality, that of doing no harm. Some are bold enough to assert that they have seen him.-Brown's Travels.' «Now, Woman, why without your veil? Mr Browne had probably forgotten one of our legal axioms, or he would not have conceived that the privilege of doing no wrong was peculiar to this long-car'd Sovereign. «Oh! I have lost my darling boy, « Oh, I have lost my darling child, «He did not venture in to swim, «Now take me in your boat, I pray, «The King of the crocodiles never does wrong, «And to the King I will complain, The man replied, «No, Woman, no, "Then lend me now your little boat, The Woman she leapt into the boat, The King of the Crocodiles there was seen, The Woman shook every limb with fear, She fell upon her bended knee, «A Crocodile ate him for his food; "I know that you, Sire! never do wrong, Betweene the Cytee and the Chirche of Bethlehem, is the felde Floridus, that is to seyne, the felde Boriched. For als moche as a fayre Mayden was blamed with wrong and sclaundred, that sche badd don fornicacioun, for whiche cause sche was demed to the dethe, and to be brent in that place, to the whiche sche was ladd. And as the fyre began to brenne about hire, she made her preyeres to oure Lord, that als wissely as sche was not gyity of that synne, that he wold help hire, and make it to be knowen to alle men of his mercyfulle grace; and whanne sche had thus seyd, sche entered into the fuyer, and anon was the fuyer quenched and oute, and the brondes that weren brennynge, 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 this Maiden saved be the grace of God.-The Voiage and Traivaile of Sir John Maundeville. NAY, EDITH! spare the Rose;-perhaps it lives, So thou wilt let it live. There was a time Ere this, the freshest, sweetest flower that blooms, There dwelt at Bethlehem a Jewish maid, One man there was, a vain and wretched man, Gave it new charms, and made him gloat the more. |