rupted by various causes, such as tourneyis joustis, and like divertisements met with by the way in which our Knight hath always to participate. The description of the Warldis end, is perhaps the best part of this curious little Romancc. Our original is however so very much destroyed in this place, that we have deferred till another time, giving any part or specimen of it. This legend has a very tragical catastrophe, which is not generally the case in others of a like nature. It appears that the adventurous knight, having by some means or other succeeded in delivering the damsel from her thirldom dern, in a cave belonging to the Reid Woulff at the Warldis allutermaist methe, Fornentis, the well of dule and dethe, proceeds in quest of further perils, accompanied by his fair prize, and the worthy Squyer aforesaid. After infinite travel, they come into a strange country, of a very unpromising aspect, and in which they had not advanced far, till they are attacked by a discourteous “ Geaunt grit as tre," who, captivated by the Ladyeis mervailous phisnomie Of beautie rare and courtisie bethinks him to make a seizure, without much ado. In this his Giantship is miserably deceived, for Schir Gormalyn being a genuine imp of Chivalrie, is not to be subdued or terrified by menace or blow, and accordingly a very furious duel is fought be twixt them. After various "felloun strakis" given and received on both sides, the giant is brought to the ground, with a tremendous shock. But strange to tell, while in the act of falling, he catches hold of the knight's steed by some of its furniture, and horse and man and all together tumble to the ground. In the affray, the head of the Reid Woulff, which it seems had been suspended somewhere about the horse's neck, became disengaged, and falls beside the recumbent giant, who though weak and exhausted by his late exertion, seizes the fatal skull, and hurls it right in the face of the knight. It unfortunately hits him on the cheek, and the ventale of his helmet being up, one of the Wolf's teeth" lang, crukit and of yellow hue on grene," makes a deep incision, and the same being suffused with a mortal poison, which the wolf had been accustomed to imbibe from the black waters of the well of" Dule and Deid" the wound proves fatal; for the knight shortly afterwards dies in the arms of the maid he had rescued, and who having fallen in love with him for his courage, good services, and noble demeanour, becomes distracted at his loss-composes a Lai Mortel, and at last, in a fine heroical style, expires by his side. And with this, the whole in a great measure concludes. More particulars respecting this metrical Romance, with Some conjectures, touching its age and author, and as many more of its verses as can be deciphered, will appear in the "Gowpenfou of guidiie Concents, or Ragment of Rosie Rondellis and plesant meteris," to be published in the be ginning of next year. Here followis ane litill fang clepit “Com hidder, com hidder, & let us woo.” Twa gentil birdis sat on ane tre, Com hidder, com hidder, mi bonnie dow, The sun rase hie in the purpour east, Com hidder, com hidder, &c. Syne gaed thir birdis sua traist and free, In suth to say, thair hertis wer licht, Com hidder, com hidder, &c. An account of this old song will be found in the publication referred to, in the note to the foregoing. In the meantime, we think it is one of the songs mentioned by Gawin Douglass, in his "Prolouge to the XII. Booke of Eneados." Edin. 1700, p. 404. F No. 2. ANE EPISTLE DIRECTED FROM THE HOLY HEREMITE O ALLAREIT, TO HIS BRETHREN THE GRAYE FRERS. I Thomas, hermite of Lareit, Thir smaikis do set their haill intent And Doctouris in idolatrie; Lurkand in hoils lyke trator toddis, I schaip myselfe, within short quhile, Your hailie order to decoir, That practick he proved anis befoir, As beefe, meale, butter, and cheese, Be Thomas your bruther at command, A culrunne kythit throuch mony a land. Alex Cunninghame, Earl of Glencairn. THE SOLSEQUIUM; OR, THE LOVER COMPAIRING HIMSELF TO A SUN-FLOWER Hings doun his heid, and droupis as deid, and will not spreid, And to thair King ane glade gude-morrow gives, But laughs on Phebus lowsing out his levis. Swa stands with me, except I be quhair I may se Frae scho depairts, a thousand dairts in sindrie airte That I revive thruch favour of hir face. Frae scho appeir into hir sphere, begins to cleir The dawing of my lang desyrit day. Then courage cryis on houp to ryse quhen he espyis |