We shall now conclude with a Wassail song, sung by Dissimulation, which has not been found in any former authority, and which, the editor says, is probably the oldest in our language: "Wassayle, wassayle out of the mylke payle, Alliterative Poem on the Deposition of King Richard II. Ricardi Maydiston de Concordia inter Ric. II. et Civitatem London. Edited by Thomas Wright, M.A. F.S.A. of Trin. Coll. Camb. Of these two poems, which together form the Third publication of the Camden Society, the former is by far the most curious; the latter being merely a version, in passable Latin verse, of a royal reception and passage through the city, with the pageantry and speeches, which we have got elsewhere, almost as fully though not so poetically described, in the Chronicles of Hall and Holinshed, and the doggrels of Lydgate. The peculiarity of the occasion before us was that the presents and pageantry of the city, as well as their professions of loyalty, were more than usually exuberant, as the object they had in view was to purchase the favour of their Sovereign, which, through the gracious interference of the Queen, they are shown to have happily accomplished. The Alliterative Poem is a sort of sequel to that of Piers Plowman, and has been found in a unique copy in the Cambridge University Library, following that satire. Piers Plowman is a work which has always been estimated as of the highest value, both for the satiric vigour with which it flashes forth its light upon the history and manners of the age, and for the mine of ancient English which it affords to the philologist. The present poem is fully deserving of the same character, and its production does fresh honour to the Camden Society. Like its prototype, it requires some study before it is intelligible to an unpractised reader; but he is provided by the editor with a very copious glossary, and the study is well repaid by the truth with which he will find himself brought into the very spirit and sentiments of the day in which the Poem was written, for part of it was evidently composed so immediately while the events were in progress, that Harry of Lancaster was actually landed, but had not yet supplanted Richard in the kingdom. Without further preamble, we shall proceed to give a few passages by way of specimen. The poet commences by depicting the prosperity in which King Richard first entered upon the sovereignty, and figuratively pourtrays his good fortune in this description of his crown. "Crouned with a croune, that kyng under hevene So ffull was it ffilled with vertuous stones, With gemmes and juellis joyned to-gedir, And pees (peace) amonge the peple ffor peyne of thi lawis. The braunchis above boren grett charge; With diamauntis derne (secret) y-dountid (feared) of all That wroute ony wrake within or withoute; With lewte (loyalty) and love y-loke (locked) to thi peeris, Y-poudride wyth pete (pity) ther it be ouzte, The poet ascribes the King's misfortunes to his selecting too youthful ministers :: "The chevyteyns cheef that зе chesse evere, Weren all to yonge of yeris to yeme swyche a rewme;" that is, to guide such a realm. Another great indiscretion was the King's giving liveries, and forming a peculiar party, as the great feudal peers did, instead of showing no undue partiality, and becoming the father of his whole people. This the poet censures with great justice and force. He says that those on whom this token of royal favour was conferred, presumed so much upon it, that they spoiled and oppressed "the commons" without mercy, showing their" signes," or badges, of the royal Hart, as a privilege of exemption from paying their just debts. "Thus levere overe loked 3oure liegis ichonne; Ffor tho that had hertis on hie on her brestis Ffor the more partie, I may well avowe, They bare hem the bolder ffor her gay broches, And busshid with her brestis, and bare adoune the pouere So trouthe to telle, as toune men said, Ffor on that ze merkyd, ze myssed ten schore Of homeliche hertis, that the harme hente. I not what you eylid, but if it ese were; Ffor ffrist at 30ure anoyntynge alle were 30ure owene, No lede of 30ure lond, but as a liege aughte, Ty [1] 3e of 30ure dulnesse deseveraunce made, The poet does not, however, confine himself to the misdemeanours of King Richard; but, like the author of Piers Plowman (if, indeed, he be not the same), he has his quiver filled for every vice or folly of the time. With regard to dress, after laughing at the " elbowis a-down to the helis, or passinge the knee," and the "plytis bihynde," which occasioned so extravagant a demand of cloth, he proceeds, "But now ther is a gyse, the queyntest of all, A wondir coriouse crafte, y-come now late, Moun not sett the seemes, ne sewe hem azeyn. But ther is a proffith in that pride, that I preise evere, Now, what an excellent description is here of the costume which from its singularity is sure to have struck any one who has turned over the plates of Strutt's Dresses, and of which there is such abundance in the illuminations to the French poem on Richard the Second which Mr. Webb edited in the Archæologia. We think the poet's vigour increases as he proceeds, and we must give one further extract descriptive of Richard's great resources, yet still exceeding expenditure. "Ffor where was evere ony cristen kynge, that ze evere knewe, That helde swiche an household be the half-delle As Richard in this rewme, thoru myse-rule of other, That alle his ffynys ffor ffau3tis, ne his ffee ffermes, Ne ffor-ffeyturis ffele (many forfeitures) that felle in his daies, Ne the nownagis that newed (renewed) him evere, As Marche and Monbray, and many mo other, 'Thrown down the pot among the coals; and "shente all the browet," spilt all the broth-proverbial sayings. The word "browet" is left unexplained in Mr. Wright's Glossary. 2 The non-ages, or wardships. Ne alle the issues of court that to the kyng longid, Ne sellynge that sowkid (sucked) silver rith ffaste, Whane the countis were caste, with the custum of wullus (wools), To paie the pore peple that his purvyours toke, Withoute preiere at a parlement, a poundage biside, And a fifteneth and a dyme3 eke, And withall the custum of the clothe that cometh to ffayres, And 3et ne had creaunce (credit) i-come at the last ende, With the comunes curse that cleved on hem evere, They had be drawe to the devyll ffor dette that they owed." The poet proceeds, in the most spirited style, to describe the election and assembling of Parliament, or prevy parlement," which this riot and revel rendered necessary; the modern speech from the throne, which was then "comely" delivered by a clerk, and the unworthy and useless manner in which the senators proceeded to business :— "But zit ffor the manere, to make men blynde, Somme argued azein rith then a good while, And said, We beth servauntis and sallere ffongen (salary found), And y-sente ffro the shiris to shewe what hem greveth, And to parle ffor her prophete, and passe no fferthere, And to graunte of her gold to the grett wattis By no manere wronge way, but if werre (war) were; And somme slombrid and slepte, and said but a lite; And somme mafflid with the mouth, and nyst what they ment; And somme had hire, and helde ther-with evere, And wolde no fforther a ffoot, ffor ffer of her maistris ; & And some were so soleyne, and sad of her wittis, That er they come to the clos a-combred they were, The satirist proceeds to say that others, who were fiercest and most noisy at first, were afterwards, like more modern patriots, won over by the Lords, and betrayed the cause they had espoused; but the poem unfortunately breaks off short before this very curious description of the Parliament is concluded, owing, as it is supposed by the editor, and as some angry side notes seem to intimate, to the transcriber having been on the contrary side in politics to the author; while with one it was true that facit indignatio versus, with the other that feeling had a contrary effect. For our own part, we have felt so much interest in this poem, that nothing would please us better than that the discovery of some other manuscript should hereafter enable the Camden Society to complete the work. 3 Sealing of patents, &c. 5 Speak for their profit. 7 Evidently nominees. 4 Disme, or tenth. 8 This singular word, for which no interpretation has been found, occurs also at an earlier place, where it is said that the poem itself might be "construed," "ich clause with the culorum." 9 Fear of their masters. REVIEW OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. Goethe's Correspondence with a Child. 2 vols. Berlin. A CLEVER little girl, thirteen years old, called Bettine Arnim, conceived a very romantic attachment to the great Poet and Philosopher of Weimar, and in the present work, her letters to Goëthe's mother, the Frau Rath, as she was called, and to himself, are given, with the answers. Bettine seems excessively clever, very amiable, and very amusing; living, as the Germans are Isaid to live, rather in the air than on the earth. The work is dedicated to Prince Puckler, and the translation (if such it can be called) was made at Berlin, evidently by a German who fancied he understood English. The original of the work was published in aid of the funds for the erection of a monument to the memory of Goëthe. The motto prefixed is-" This book is for the good and not for the bad." Hoping that our readers are of the former class, and therefore privileged to partake of the intellectual dainties collected, we will give an extract or two; and, first, for the appearance of the famous Madame de Stael : "I would rather be a simple grain of wheat than a celebrated woman, and rather he should break me for his daily bread, than post like a dram through his head. Now I will tell you that I supped with De Stael yesterday at Mainz. No lady could undertake to sit next her, so I sate myself beside her, and uncomfortable enough it was. The gentlemen stood round the table, and planted themselves all behind us, pressing one upon another, only to speak with or look at her. They leaned quite over me, and I said in French, Your admirers quite suffocate me;' at which she laughed. She said that Goëthe had spoken to her of me, and I remained sitting, for I would fain have heard what he said, and yet I was vexed, for I would rather he should speak to no one of me. Nor do I believe he did-she only said so. There came at last so many who all wanted to speak with her across and over me, * Probably a German proverbial saying in verse, which the translator imagined he had made English. GENT. MAG. VOL, X. that I could endure it no longer, and said, Your laurels press too heavily on my made my way through her admirers. Then shoulders. Upon which I got up and Sismondi, her companion, came and press ed my hand, and said I had much talent. This he told over to the rest, and they at least repeated it twenty times, as if I had been a prince, from whom every thing sounds clever, be it never so commonplace. I afterwards listened to her while she was speaking of Goëthe: she said she had expected to see a second Werther, but was mistaken, for neither his person or manners answered the character, and she Werther about him. Frau Rath! I was lamented much that there was nothing of angry at such talk (you will say it was needless) and turned to Schlegel and said to him in German, Mad. de Stael has fallen into a two-fold error, in her expectation, and then in her opinion.' We Germans expect that Goëthe can shake out of his sleeve twenty such heroes, equally imposing for the French, but think that he himself is quite another sort of hero. Schlegel was wrong not to bring her to a better understanding on the subject. She threw the laurel leaf with which she had been playing on the floor. I trod upon it, then kicked it away and left her. This is the history of the celebrated woman. Beunder no uneasiness about your French : converse with her in the finger language, and make commentaries with your large eyes-that will astonish her. Me, de Stacl has an whole ant-hill of thoughts in her head, and what can I have to say to her? I shall soon come to Frankfort, and then we can talk about it more at large." Now for the important interview between Me. de Stael and Frau Rath! My misfortune took me to Frankfort, exactly as Me. de Stael passed through it. I had already enjoyed her society a whole evening at Mayence, but your mother was well pleased to have my assistance, for she was already informed that Me. de Stael would bring her a letter from you, and she wished me to ply the inter mezzos ' if she should need relief during this great catastrophe. Your mother has commanded me to describe all to you with the utmost minuteness. The interview took place at Bethmann-Schaaf, in the apart ments of Mauna Bethman. Your mother, either through irony or fun, had deco3 E I rated herself wonderfully, but with German humour and not in French taste. must tell you that when I looked at your mother, with three feathers on her head, which nodded on three different sides,one red, one white, and one blue-the French national colours,-rising out of a field of sunflowers, my heart beat with joy and expectation. She was deeply rouged. Her great black eyes fired a burst of artillery. Round her neck she wore the celebrated gold ornaments given her by the Queen of Prussia; lace of ancient fashion and great splendour (a complete heir-loom) covered her bosom; and thus she stood with white kid gloves in one hand a curiously-wrought fan, with which she set the air in motion,—the other hand, which was bared, quite covered with sparkling stones, taking from time to time a pinch out of a golden snuffbox, in which was set a miniature of you, where with powdered ringlets you are thoughtfully leaning your head upon your hand. The party of distinguished ladies formed a semi-circle in M. Bethman's bedchamber, on the purple-hued carpet, in the centre of which was a white field with a leopard. The company looked so stately, that they might well be imposing. On the walls were ranged beautiful Indian plants, and the apartment was lighted by shaded glassglobes. Opposite the semi-circle stood the bed, upon a daïs of two steps, also covered with a purple tapestry; on each side, a candelabra. I said to your mother, 'Me. de Stael will think she is cited before the Court of Love, for the bed yonder looks like the covered throne of Venus.' It was thought that then she might have much to answer for. At last the longexpected one came through a suite of lighted apartments, accompanied by Benjamin Constant. She was dressed as Corinne. A turban of aurora and orangecoloured silk, a dress of the same, with an orange tunic, girded so high as to leave little room for her heart. Her black brows and lashes glittered, as also her lips with a mysterious red. Her long gloves were drawn down, covering only her hand, in which she held the well-known laurelsprig. As the apartment where she was expected lies much lower, she was obliged to descend four steps. Unfortunately she held up her dress before instead of behind. This gave the solemnity of her reception a terrible blow. It looked very odd, as, clad in complete oriental style, she marched down towards the stiff dame of the virtueenrolled Frankfort Society. Your mother darted a few daring glances at me, whilst they were presented to each other. I had stationed myself apart, to observe the whole scene. I perceived Me. de Stael's astonishment at the remarkable decorations and dress of your mother, who displayed an immense pride. She spread out her robe with her left hand; with the right she saluted, playing with her fan and bowing her head several times with great condescension, and said with an elevated voice-'Je suis la mère de Goëthe!' 'Ah! je suis charmée'-answered the authoress, and then followed a solemn stillness. Then ensued the presentation of her distinguished suite, MM. Schlegel, Sismondi, B. Constant, also curious to become acquainted with Goëthe's mother. Your mother answered their civilities with a new year's wish in French, which with solemn courtesies she kept murmuring between her teeth,-in short, I think the audience was perfect, and gave a fine specimen of the German grandezza. Soon your mother beckoned me to her. I was forced to play the interpreter between them. Then the conversation turned only upon you and your youth. The portrait on the snuffbox was examined. It was painted at Leipzig, before you were ill, but already very thin. One can nevertheless recognize all your present grandeur in those gracious features, and, above all, the author of Werther. Me. de Stael spoke about your letters, and that she should like to read what you wrote to your mother, and your mother promised them to her. I thought she should surely get none of your letters to me, for I bear her a grudge. And as often as your name dropped from her not-well-formed lips, an inward wrath fell upon me. She told me that in your letters you called her amie.' Ah! she surely remarked in me, that this came quite unexpectedly on me. Ah! she said even more. But now my patience was lost. How can you be friendly with so unpleasant a countenance? Ah! there we may see that you are vain, or perhaps she told me untruths. Were I with thee I would not suffer it. I could write a volume on all that I have heard, done, or seen during a week with your mother. She could hardly expect me to come and recapitulate every thing to her. Then came reproaches. I was peevish that she set so high a value upon her acquaintance with Me. de Stael. She called me childish and silly and conceited, and said one must not deny respect to what was really worthy; and that one would not pass over such a woman like a kennel, and continue one's way. But it must always be considered as a remarkable honour in one's fate to come together with an important personage." There are some letters from Bettine in which she communicates anecdotes |