338

CASTLES AND ABBEYS OF ENGLAND.

[Appendix to

esset, cl;\m ad Stephanu adivisse atq’ sic eum allocutii: Ecquid, impie actui generis immemor, facere tetas? Dccet ne patrem pcrdere filiu? an fas, est ut filius patrem occidat? Amabo te, des locum iraq projiciasq’ tela manu,n& Ilenricu, uti probb scis, ex te enixa sum! Et his dictis, ordine comemo-rasse quern admodum paulio anteq’ (laufredo nuberet, ab eo compressa fuisset;ac ijs verbis Stephanu motu pace fecisse.”

£ypr ddtbtS, Text 37.—For the ground-work of the following legend, as connectingSir Bevis with Arundel Castle, we areindebted to a lady resident near the spot.Sir Bevis, as noticed, p. 326, is familiar toevery reader of romance; and the tradi-tional history of his prowess has oftenbeen heard at the baron’s hearth, when thespirit of chivalry was fanned by the ap-proving smile of beauty, and the sound ofthe harp sweetened the intervals of repose.

41 O, who tins not heard of 53cb(S the Bold ?

Whose sword was the theme of harpers old;

Compared with which, like a willow-wandWas the sword that gleamed in Paynim hand.

And oft through the Pagan’s steely array,

For the Cross of St. George, it had cleft his way.

Syr Bevis was stout of heart and limb:

And his meekest look was so stern and grim,

That even his squire grew deadly pale,

As he buckled for battle Syr Bevis' mail 1And wherever for knightly feats he went,

Equipped for battle or tournament,

His very shadow refused to stay,

And shrunk like a craven thing away.

So fierce and fell was the hero’s stroke,

’Twould have cleft at a blow the forest oak;

While around him heads of Saracen lay,

Paving with helms Syr Bevis’ way.

But at length, in old Arundel's Castellan,

When chilly and slow the life-blood ran,

And he bask’d his old frame in its evening sun,

And dreamed o’er the battles his youth had won;

As musing he sat on yon battled keep,

O’erlooking the forest and distant deep—

‘ Come, bring me,’ quoth he, ‘ my trusty sword I’

And swiftly his squire obeyed the word.

Then swift from his seat Syr Bevis sprung,

And thrice round his head the blade he swung—

• Now mark me well,’ said the chief, ‘ and obeyThe command I leave, and the word I say: