“Robert Doue, citizen and merchant taylor, of London, gave to the parish church of St. Sepulchres, the somme of £50. That after the several sessions of London, when the prisoners remain in the gaole, as condemned men to death, expecting execution on the morrow following: the _clarke_ (that is the _parson_) of the church shoold come in the night time, and likewise early in the morning, to the window of the prison where they lye, and there ringing certain toles with a hand-bell appointed for the purpose, he doth afterwards (in most Christian manner) put them in mind of their present condition, and ensuing execution, desiring them to be prepared therefore as they ought to be. When they are in the cart, and brought before the wall of the church, there he standeth ready with the same bell, and, after certain toles, rehearseth an appointed praier, desiring all the people there present to pray for them. The beadle also of Merchant Taylors’ Hall hath an honest stipend allowed to see that this is duely done.” Probably the discontinuance of this practice commenced when malefactors were first executed at Newgate, in lieu of Tyburn. The donation most certainly refers to the verses. What the “_other services_” are which the donor intended to be done, and for which the sexton is paid £1. 6_s._ 8_d._, and which are to be “_for ever_,” I do not know, but I presume those services (or some other) are now continued, as the board which contains the donation seems to me to have been newly painted. EDWIN S----. _Carthusian-street, Jan. 1827._ [44] Page 25 of the quarto edition, 1618. * * * * * THE DEATH OF THE RED KING “Come, listen to a tale of times of old; Come, for ye know me.” SOUTHEY. Who is it that rides thro’ the forest so green, And gazes with joy on the beautiful scene, With the gay prancing war-horse, and helmeted head? ’Tis the monarch of England, stern William the Red. Why starts the proud courser? what vision is there? The trees are scarce mov’d by the still breathing air-- All is hush’d, save the wild bird that carols on high, The forest bee’s hum, and the rivulet’s sigh. But, lo! a dark form o’er the pathway hath lean’d ’Tis the druid of Malwood, the wild forest-fiend The terror of youth, of the aged the fear-- The prophet of Cadenham, the death-boding seer! His garments were black as the night-raven’s plume. His features were veil’d in mysterious gloom, His lean arm was awfully rais’d while he said, “Well met, England’s monarch, stern William the Red! “Desolation, death, ruin, the mighty shall fall-- Lamentation and woe reign in Malwood’s wide hall! Those leaves shall all fade in the winter’s rude blast, And thou shalt lie low ere the winter be past.”