es of Bisclaveret duly restored.
But when they were brought before him the animal appeared to survey
them with listlessness and inattention; and the king had again recourse
to his sapient counsellor, by whose advice they were transferred to the
royal bed-chamber, where Bisclaveret was left, without witnesses, to
effect, if possible, his metamorphosis. In due time the king, attended
with two of his barons, repaired to the chamber, and found the knight in
his natural form, asleep on the royal bed. His master immediately
embraced him with the utmost affection, restored all his estates; added
more, and banished the wicked wife, together with her paramour, from the
country. It is remarkable that afterwards she had several children, all
of whom were females, and distinguished by the disagreeable singularity
of being born without noses. Be assured that this adventure is strictly
true, and that the Lay of Bisclaveret was composed for the purpose of
making it known to the latest posterity.

* * * * *

No. V.--_The Lay of SIR LANVAL_.

It was the time of Pentecost the bless'd,
When royal Arthur held the accustom'd feast,
When Carduel's walls contained the vast resort
That press'd from every land to grace his plenar court.
There did the sovereign's copious hand dispense
Large boons to all with free magnificence,
To all but one; from Bretany he came,
A goodly knight, Sir Lanval was his name.
Long had the king, by partial temper sway'd,
His loyal zeal with cold neglect repaid;
Yet from a throne Sir Lanval drew his birth,
Nor could all England boast more comeliness and worth.
Whate'er the cause, no gift the monarch gave,
The knight with honest pride forbore to crave,
Till at the last, his substance all forespent,
From his lord's court the hopeless liegeman went.
No leave he took, he told no mortal wight,
Scarce had he thought to guide his steps aright,
But all at random, reckless of his way,
He wander'd on the better half of day.
Ere evening fell he reached a pleasant mead,
And there he loos'd his beast, at will to rest or feed;
Then by a brook-side down his limbs he cast
And, pondering on the waters as they pass'd,
The while his cloak his bended arm sustain'd,
Sadly he sat, and much in thought complain'd.
So mus'd he long, till by the frequent tread
Of quickening feet constrai