ballads on this theme. The poem
of John the Reeve, or Steward, mentioned by Bishop Percy in the Reliques of
English Poetry,3 is said to have turned on such an incident; and we have,
besides, the King and the Tanner of Tamworth, the King and the Miller of
Mansfield, and others on the same topic. But the peculiar tale of this nature to
which the author of Ivanhoe has to acknowledge an obligation is more ancient by
two centuries than any of these last mentioned.
    It was first communicated to the public in that curious record of ancient
literature, which has been accumulated by the combined exertions of Sir Egerton
Brydges and Mr. Hazlewood, in the periodical work entitled the British
Bibliographer. From thence it has been transferred by the Reverend Charles Henry
Hartshorne, M. A., editor of a very curious volume, entitled, »Ancient Metrical
Tales, printed chiefly from original sources, 1829.« Mr. Hartshorne gives no
other authority for the present fragment except the article in the
Bibliographer, where it is entitled the Kyng and the Hermyt. A short abstract of
its contents will show its similarity to the meeting of King Richard and Friar
Tuck.
    King Edward (we are not told which among the monarchs of that name, but,
from his temper and habits, we may suppose Edward IV.) sets forth with his court
to a gallant hunting-match in Sherwood Forest, in which, as is not unusual for
princes in romance, he falls in with a deer of extraordinary size and swiftness,
and pursues it closely, till he has outstripped his whole retinue, tired out
hounds and horse, and finds himself alone under the gloom of an extensive
forest, upon which night is descending. Under the apprehensions natural to a
situation so uncomfortable, the king recollects that he has heard how poor men,
when apprehensive of a bad night's lodging, pray to Saint Julian, who, in the
Romish calendar, stands Quarter-Master-General to all forlorn travellers that
render him due homage. Edward puts up his orisons accordingly, and by the
guidance, doubtless, of the good Saint, reaches a small path conducting him to a
chapel in the forest, having a hermit's cell in its close vicinity. The King
hears the reverend man, with a companion of his solitude, telling his beads
within, and meekly requests of him quarters for the night. »I have no
accommodation for such a lord as ye be,« said the Hermit. »I live here in the
wilderness upon roots and rinds, and may not receive into my