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My lord, oft hunting in these partes,
Through travel, night or wether.

Hath often lodged in your house;
I thanke you for the same;

For why? it doth him jolly ease

To lie so neare his game.

But, for you have not furniture

Beseeming such a guest,

I bring his owne, and come myselfe

To see his lodging drest.

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She prayes them to have care

That nothing hap in their default,

That might his health impair :

And, Damsell, quoth shee, for it seemes
This houshold is but three,

And for thy parents age, that this

Shall chiefely rest on thee;

Do me that good, else would to God

He hither come no more.

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So tooke she horse, and ere she went
Bestowed gould good store.

Full little thought the countie that

His countesse had done so;

Who now return'd from far affaires

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But when he knew those goods to be
His proper goods; though late,
Scarce taking leave, he home returnes

The matter to debate.

The countesse was a-bed, and he

With her his lodging tooke;

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Sir, welcome home (quoth shee); this ǹight 165 For you I did not looke.

Then did he question her of such

His stuffe bestowed soe. Forsooth, quoth she, because I did

Your love and lodging knowe:

Your love to be a proper wench,
Your lodging nothing lesse ;

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I held it for your health, the house
More decently to dresse.

Well wot I, notwithstanding her,
Your lordship loveth me;

And greater hope to hold you such
By quiet, then brawles, 'you' see.

Then for my duty, your delight,

And to retaine your favour,
All done I did, and patiently

Expect your wonted 'haviour.

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Her patience, witte and answer wrought

His gentle teares to fall:

When (kissing her a score of times)

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Amend, sweet wife, I shall:

He said, and did it; so each wife

Her husband may' recall.

VII.

Dowsabell.

The following stanzas were written by Michael Drayton, a poet of some eminence in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, James I. and Charles I.* They are inserted in one of his Pastorals, the first edition of which bears this whimsical title. "Idea. The Shepheards Garland fashioned

* He was born in 1563, and died in 1631.-Biog. Brit.

in nine Eglogs.

Rowlands sacrifice to the nine muses. Lond. 1593, 4to." They are inscribed with the author's name at length, "To the noble and valerous gentleman master Robert Dudley," &c. It is very remarkable, that when Drayton reprinted them in the first folio edition of his works, 1619, he had given those Eclogues so thorough a revisal, that there is hardly a line to be found the same as in the old edition. This poem had received the fewest corrections, and therefore is chiefly given from the ancient copy, where it is thus 'introduced by one of his shepherds :

Listen to mee, my lovely shepheards joye,

And thou shalt heare, with mirth and mickle glee,

A prettie tale, which when I was a boy,

My toothles grandame oft hath tolde to me.

The author has professedly imitated the style and metre of some of the old metrical romances; particularly that of Sir Isenbras,* (alluded to in v. 3,) as the reader may judge from the following specimen :

Lordynges, lysten, and you shal here, &c.

*

Ye shall well heare of a knight,
That was in warre full wyght,

And doughtye of his dede:
His name was Syr Isenbras,
Man nobler then he was
Lyved none with breade.

He was lyvely, large, and longe,

With shoulders broade, and armes stronge,
That myghtie was to se:

He was a hardye man, and hye,

All men hym loved that hym se,

For a gentyll knight was he:

Harpers loved him in hall,

With other minstrells all,

For he gave them golde and fee, &c.

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This ancient legend was printed in black letter, 4to.,

* As also Chaucer's Rhyme of Sir Topas, v. 6.

by Wyllyam Copland: no date. In the Cotton Library (Calig. A. 2,) is a MS. copy of the same romance containing the greatest variations. They are probably two different translations of some French original.

FARRE in the countrey of Arden,
There won'd a knight, hight Cassemen,

As bolde as Isenbras:

Fell was he, and eger bent,
In battell and in tournament,

As was the good Sir Topas.

He had, as antique stories tell,
A daughter cleaped Dowsabel,

A mayden fayre and free:

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Might well beseeme a mayden queene,

Which seemly was to see;

A hood to that so neat and fine,

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