upon which it was founded, or with which it was connected, and was of course in itself imperfect and desultory. But in Amadis de Gaul the whole his tory, the dramatis persona, nay often the very scene of action, is the pure invention of the author from the stores of his own imagination. Hence his work in this particular has more the plan of a regular epic than the Orlando Furioso itself. Mr. Rose seems to have been struck with these advantages, and impelled by them to the task of translating into English verse the first book of this admired work, which, as it concludes with the consummation of the loves of Amadis and Oriana, is easily separated from the other three, which terminate with their marriage. The translator has chosen the common heroic stanza, of which he has displayed a pleasing command: perhaps we might, from early association, have preferred that of Spenser and Fairfax, dedicated, as it were of old, to record feats of chivalry, but Mr. Rose may shelter himself under the authority of the late Mr. Way, and the more venerable example of Dryden. We proceed to analyze the fable, intermingling some specimens of the poetry.

Garinter, an ancient monarch of Brittany, had two daughters; the eldest was married to the king of Scotland, the second, named Eliseni, was termed the Lost Recluse, on account of her devotion to religion. Garinter in hunting sees a valiant knight beset by two felon barons, both of whom fall under his single arm. He accosts the victor and invites him to his court; upon the road the stranger again signalizes his prowess, by slaying a lion. The knight proves to be Perion, king of Gaul; and during his residence at the court of Brittany, he captivates the affections of the Lost Recluse. At a stolen midnight interview their faiths are solemnly pledged, and Amadis owes his birth to the meeting. Perion returns to Gaul, upon hearing tidings of his father's death, under the solemn promise of claiming the hand of Eliseni as soon as his kingdom should be settled but he is prevented from executing his purpose, by a "tide of strange adventures." Meanwhile the Lost Recluse is in the utmost danger from a rigorous law, which sentenced to death every maiden who violated the laws of chastity. By the prudent intervention of her confidante, she is delivered of a male child, the famous Amadis, who is placed

by the attendant in a small cradle, con taining his father's sword and other tokens of recognition, and thus launched into the ocean. The cradle and its contants are rescued by Gandales, a knight of Scotland, when returning in a galley to his native country. The infant Ama dis, named the Child of the Sea, is edu cated with Gandalin, the son of his foster-father. Meanwhile Perion finds time to wed publicly the Lost Recluse. A dansel appears suddenly before him, and in mysterious language announces the chivalrous prowess of his sons. The fair Eliseni bears another son, named Galaor, but he also is lost to his parents, being carried off by a giant. Meantime the mysterious damsel appears to Gandales, declares herself to be a fay or fairy, named Urganda the Unknown and foretells the renown of the Child of the Sea. That noble youth being accidentally noticed by his aunt, the queen of Scotland, she requests he may be sent to court. Here Amadis first sees the lovely Oriana, daughter of Lisvard, king of England, who becomes the unrivalled lady of his affections. He receives the honour of knighthood frora the hand of his own father, Perion, who comes to Scotland to request aid against the invasion of Abyes, king of Ireland Amadis sets out to join the Scottish army raised for this purpose. On his way he receives a lance from Urganda, with which he frees his father, Perion, impri soned by a false old knight, and abo lishes the evil customs of Galpan, a lawless baron, who, not content with oppressing knights and dishonouring damsels, was wont to impose upon them certain hard and intolerable conditions. By these atchievements the renown of Amadis is highly exalted, when attended by Gandalin, his foster-brother, now acting as his squire, he joins the Scottish succours, and reaches Brittany. In a desperate battle the Irish prove success. ful, notwithstanding the prodigies of va lour atchieved by Amadis and his father. But the issue of the war being pledged on a single combat betwixt the young hero and the Irish king, the latter is slain by Amadis, and the invading army re treat with his dead body. His victory is followed by a discovery of our hero's birth, in consequence of the tokens with which he was exposed being recognized by his mother. Shortly after this happy event, Amadis departs for England, un der pretence of seeing the court of ki

wage not, I, unprofitable fight. Sat so it please thee ill-advised remain, lere bide the piercing cold and pelting rain, ind eftsoons as Aurora's dawning light hall serve to guide my conquering armaright, ong wish'd for tho it come, I aveen the day hall ill the night's bad harbourage repay. ow hold thine host excused if he retire o lead the festive dance, to joy the lyre, nd with fair dames the spicy goblets quaff: A said, and ended with a churlish laugh." Amadis, repulsed from this inhospitle castle, finds shelter in the pavilion a damsel, where he learns that the urlish castellan, Durdan by name, as on a certain day to maintain by mbat in the lists, the right of his pamour to certain fiefs and lands posssed by another lady. It will readily guessed that Amadis appears as the iverse champion, and discomfits the tourteous Durdan. He is welcomed Lisvard, but more tenderly in a ivate interview with Oriana. "Say, lordings gay! say damsels bright in

bower!

ho reap love's sweets, and own his magic

After some stay at King Lisvard's court, Amadis resumes his profession of knight-errantry, and encounters Arcalaus, redoubted as a knight, but yet more terrible as an enchanter, in his own castle. Our hero, successful in the combat, is nevertheless imprisoned in an enchanted chamber in the castle; and Arcalaus, clothed in his arms, repairs to the court of Lisvard, and announces his having slain the heir of Gaul. The consternation of the court, and the despair of Oriana is soon removed by the appearance of Amadis himself, liberated from the dungeon by the superior spells of Urganda. Meanwhile an old man with two knights, to whom he was apparently captive, enters the court of Lisvard, and commits to that monarch's care a splendid crown and mantle, desiring that they should be restored on the next plenar court-day, or that the king should in lieu grant him a boon. The old man and his attendants accord

ingly appear at the cour pleniere, and the king, unable to produce the treasures (which had been stolen from his custody by enchantment), is compelled by his knightly faith to grant the boon demanded, which is no other than the surrender of Oriana to the strangers. The obligation of the "boon granted" (don octroyée) permitted no evasion, and the princess was delivered up to the disguised Arcalaus, by whose art this stratagem had been executed. Amadis was not in court when this extraordinary scene took place; but, apprized by his faithful squire, he waylays the ravishers, comfiture, rescues from their hands the and dealing among them death and disbeloved Oriana. A bank by a fountain engages the lovers to rest on their return to London. Here the lovely princess becomes conveniently and obstinately drowsy, though Amadis attempts to awake her by the most endearing ca

resses.

"Or slept the damsel still, or paused the knight,

I wot not, I wo worth the daring wight Who steals on hymen's joys, and boldly wrays Fond love's mysterious rites to vulgar gaze But sooth to say, if still soft slumber weigh'd A dream of more than mortal joy, I wis, The drooping eyelids of the royal maid, Lapt the sweet damsel's every sense in bliss."

With the mutual happiness of the lovers concludes this elegant version of the first book of Amadis. Mr. Rose's

style, which is simple without meanness, and from a judicious intermixture of an cient words, has an antique and interesting cast, is well suited to the nature of the subject. Among these phrases we observe the verb gar, (to cause to do,) which we believe is exclusively a Scottish expression, and therefore should not have been used. An occasional monotony occurs in the poem, which we conceive to arise from Mr. Rose having chosen to abridge certain parts of the narration, which he could not avoid alluding to for the sake of distinctness, and which his plan did not suffer him to dilate into description. All mere narrative conveyed in verse has a cold and creeping effect. In those passages where

Mr. Rose has, given more rein to his imagination, the descriptions are natural and spirited, and the adventures well selected. We think, however, more use might have been made of the volatile Galaor, whose fickleness in amours forms, in the original romance, such an admirable contrast to the fidelity of his brother. Notes are added to this pleasing poem, in which Mr. Rose displays considerable acquaintance with the manners of the middle ages and the laws of chivalry. Two elegant imitations of Ovid, entitled, "Elisena Perioni," and "Guendolena Locrino," are prefixed to the poem. They are the contribution of the honourable William Herbert, the friend of the author.

THIS article is so intimately connected with the last, that referring to our account of the first book of Amadis, as versified by Rose, we proceed with the story of the following three books from the prose translation of Mr. Southey. While the enchanter Arcalaus was practising his ineffectual stratagem upon the peace and honour of Oriana, he had organized against Lisvard a grand revolt headed by a false traitor, named Barsinan. Amadis was mean time engaged in delivering the princess, and in reaping the reward of his victory; but his brother Galaor suppressing by his valour this formidable insurrection, the court of Lisvard was restored to safety and splendour by the united exertions of the brothers of Gaul. Amadis, to increase his renown, seeks to accomplish the adventure of the Firm Island, an enchanted domain, containing certain perrons (pillars), by which the fidelity of lovers might be ascertained. The probationers were able to advance only in proportion to the warmth and constancy of their affection, and the ground of trial was terminated by a most splendid apartment, which was only accessible to the most valiant knight and the fairest lady in the universe. Amadis penetrated into this beautiful chamber, and was acknowledged as their lord by the inhabitants of the Firm Island. While he was triumphing in his conquest, he received an unexpected and heart-rending letter from Oriana, who, by a concurrence of circumstances, had been led to believe him false to her love.

Her letter branded him with disloyalty, and forbade him ever to appear before her. The superscription, like that of Don Quixote's letter from the Sierra Morena, bore these words: "I am the damsel wounded through the heart with a sword, and you are he who wounded me." Amadis, on receiving this letter, abandons his conquest in despair, and betakes himself to a solitary island, or rather insulated cliff, called the poor rock, where he does penance with a hermit until he is reduced to death's door. Oriana, however, being at length undeceived, discovers with difficulty his retreat, and commands him to live for her sake. The obedient knight recovers at his lady's command, and repairs again to the court of Lisvard, where he performs miracles of valour in defence of the English monarch, which are duly rewarded in secret by his grateful daugh ter. Meantime certain envious courtiers excite a jealousy of Amadis and his friends in the mind of Lisvard, who, forgetting his own character and their services, treats them at first with coldness, and at length with absolute injustice and contempt. Fired at this usage, Amadis himself, the knights of his kindred, and many others, whom he had subdued by arms or attached to him by courtesy, renounce formally the service of Lisvard, and retire to the Firm Island. Amadis himself, incapable of making war upon the father of Oriana, wanders through the world under various disguises, quitting his arms and cog nizance as soon as his great deeds had

made them distinguished, and assuming others which were till then unknown. He even comes to the assistance of Lisvard when sorely distressed by his enemies, and with his father and brethren aids him in procuring a decisive victory. But Lisvard, hardening his heart against conviction, refuses to receive Amadis to favour, and he leaves Britain in despair, narrowly escaping the snares of Arcalaus, by whom he was again imprisoned. Meanwhile Oriana is secretly delivered of a son, named Esplandian. The infant is carried off by a lion, but is finally reared by a holy hermit, called Nasciano. Amongst the sub equent adventures of Amadis, that of the Fndriago is distinguished for its wildness. This monster was born of a giantess, by incestuous commerce with her own father. The idols whom its parents glutted with human sacrifices conferred on their unnatural offspring the strength and courage of a lion, the wings and talons of a griffin, and the free-will of a human being. Its first exercise of its privileges was to suck some five or six nurses to death, shortly after it slew its parents, and finally it laid waste the island where it was born, which from that time was called the Devil's Island, the body of this monster being tenanted by a foul demon. Amadis, on hearing this history, landed on the isle, and, attended by his squire Gandalin, went in quest of the monster.

"The Endriago came bounding over the rocks, but fiercer and more terrible than ever; and the reason was, that the devils seeing how this knight put more trust in his mistress Oriana than in God, had power thereby to enter it and make it more terrible, thinking that if that knight perished there would be none other so bold as to attack this monster. The Endriago came on, breathing smoke and flames of fire in its fury, and gnashing its teeth, and foaming and rustling its scales, and clapping its wings, that it was horrible to see it; and when the knight saw it and heard its dreadful voice, he thought all that had been told him was nothing to what the truth was, and the monster bounded towards them more eagerly, because it was long since it had seen a living But the horses took fright at seeing it, and ran away in spite of all the knight and Gandalin could do: so the knight dismounted and said, Brother, keep you aloof that we may not both perish, and see what success God will give me against this dreadful devil; and pray to him to help me, that I may restore this island to his service, or if I am to die here to have mercy upon my

man.

6

soul: for the rest, do as I have said before.' But Gandalin could not answer for exceeding agony, for assuredly he thought his master's death was certain, unless it pleased God sword knight then took his lance, and comiraculously to deliver him. The greenvered himself with his shield, and went against the Endriago as a man already dead, but without fear. The devil seeing him come, snorted out fire and smoke so black and thick that they could scarcely see one another; and he of the green-sword went on through the smoke, and drove at the monster with his lance, and by great good lance with its talons and bit it into pieces, fortune pierced it in the eye; it caught the and the iron and a fragment of the stave remained driven in through its tongue and the skin of the throat, for it had sprung on upon it, thinking to seize the knight, but he defended himself with good heart seeing his exceeding peril, and the shock of this wound repelled the monster; and the blood ran fast, throat and almost choaked it, so that it could and with the shrieks it gave ran down its neisher close its mouth nor bite with it. The knight then drew his green sword and struck at it, but the blow fell upon its scales and felt as though it had fallen upon a rock, and it made no impression; the Endriago thought then to grasp him, but only caught his shield, which it pluck d so fiercely that while with its talons the monster rent the he fell upon his hands, but he recovered, shield to pieces. He then, seeing that his shield was gone, and that his good sword availed him nothing, knew that he had no hope unless he could strike the other eye. Now the Endriago was faint and weak with its wound, and our Lord having wrath that the wicked one had so long had the dominion over those who, sinners as they were, believed his holy catholic faith, was pleased to give the knight strength and especial grace to perform what else, by course of nature, could not have been done. He aimed his sword at the other eye, but God guided it to one of the nostrils, for they were large and spreading, and so hard he thrust that it reached the brain, the Endriago itself forc ing it on, for seeing him so near it grappled with him and plucked him towards itself, and with its dreadful talons rent away the arms from his back, and crushed the flesh and bones to the very entrails: but being then suffocated with its own blood, and the sword being in its brain, and above all the sentence of God being passed upon it, its grasp released and it fell like one dead, and the knight plucked out his sword, and thrust it down his throat till he killed the monster. But before its soul departed, the devil flew from its mouth, and went through the air with a great thunderclap."

After this horrible adventure, in which we acknowledge the bold imagination of the old romancer, Amadis continues to