The view that the first three pieces in the Exeter Book really constitute a single poem was first put forward in 1853 by Franz Dietrich who, as a convenient designation for the texts which he had thus joined together, called them der Crist, a title which was adopted by Grein in 1857 in his Bibliothek der angelsächsischen Poesie and has been employed by subsequent scholars generally.

The “Address of the Soul to Its Body” usually referred to as The Worcester Fragments, although it is one of the few known examples of twelfth-century English verse, has almost always been discussed simply as a minor part of the cosmopolitan Body and Soul literature. In spite of Chambers' warning that all evidence about English literature immediately before and after the Norman Conquest is especially precious, it seems not to have been pointed out that this poem is also the central point in a series of documents in English which shows a direct line of influence extending from before the Conquest into the lyric poetry of the thirteenth century.

Many readers of Beowulf must have felt that its first climax, the fight with Grendel, is something of a disappointment. Klaeber's notes mention some of the faults when they say that this passage is

There are historical grounds for the appearance of the Saracens in Old French literature. Their appearance upon French soil had been intermittent from the eighth to the tenth century, but in later centuries the point of contact between Christian and Infidel had been shifted first to Spain, and later to the eastern end of the Mediterranean. In the time of the Crusades the local memory of the presence of the Saracens preserved in popular tradition and in clerical records was utilized by the clerks and jongleurs for the specific purpose of arousing popular interest in the holy war. To state briefly our conclusions concerning the Saracens in Old French literature, we may say that they serve a distinct purpose in the earliest epic poems reflecting contemporary Crusade zeal, and that through the popularity of the epic poems they gained wide currency as exotic, marvellous, or romantic characters in mediaeval story.

There existed in Scandinavia a well-defined legendary tradition that, when Hamðir and Sǫrli seemed about to achieve their vengeance upon the Gothic king Jǫrmunrekkr for slaying their sister Svanhildr, the Goths were instructed (or advised) to stone them to death. The two have been sent, against their will and with considerable misgivings, by their mother Guðrún to avenge their sister. On the way they have met Erpr, a third brother, and, after an exchange of sneers and insults, have slain him. Upon arriving at the Gothic hall they have cut down large numbers of Goths and have lopped off the hands and feet of Jǫrmunrekkr. Now they stand, themselves unscathed, Gothic weapons useless against them. Nothing seems to stand in the way of complete execution of their vengeance. Then, at the moment of their apparent triumph, come the instructions (or advice) to stone them. Upon this the ninth-century Eddic Hamðismál, the thirteenth-century Vǫlsungasaga, and the Edda of Snorri Sturluson all agree. Bragi the skald, in his Ragnarsdrápa, recounts only the attack in the Gothic hall, but he too represents Hamðir and Sǫrli as stoned.

German romanticism extends over a relatively long period, since in part it goes back to the ideas of Herder and the Storm and Stress movement in the seventies of the eighteenth century. Within narrower limits, one may assign to it the period from the seventeen-nineties to about 1830, when it was challenged by the Young German Movement. Obviously, however, this does not mark the end of its influence. To give a brief account of so complex and varied a movement, and to attempt to generalize in the face of marked individual differences is an undertaking beset with pitfalls.

It is well known that stressed post-vocalic [r] has been lost in many dialects of Modern English. Besides this recent loss historians of English have recognized that some [r]s in stressed syllables were lost at an earlier date.

Villon's propensity for punning needs no comment. It is not often, however, that an entire stanza of his represents a well-knit and complex chain of word-plays in the manner of the following one.

Item, je donne a Basennier,
Notaire et greffier criminel,
De giroffle ung plain panier
Prins sur maistre Jehan de Ruel,
Tant a Mautaint, tant a Rosnel,
Et, avec ce don de giroffle,
Servir de cuer gent et ysnel
Le seigneur qui sert saint Cristoffle.

In France, romanticism is first of all a revolt against a firmly entrenched classicism. In this respect, French romanticism is markedly different from romanticism in England, Germany, or Spain, where classicism had been less in accord with the national temper and had not risen to the glorious heights of the century of Corneille, Racine, and Molière. It is not surprising therefore that classicism, having produced so rich a literature of profound psychological insight, should have prolonged its dominance in France, to a considerable degree, even into the early years of the nineteenth century. It is significant too that in France, romanticism established itself first in prose with Rousseau and his successors, then in poetry with Lamartine, and only at last in drama with the final triumph of Hugo's Hernani in 1830. This sequence corresponds to the degree of resistance in these three literary forms. The victory over the codified rules of classic tragedy could come in France only after a long fight extending over more than a hundred years. This explains why so much of French debate about the theories of romanticism turns about the drama.

Many of these interpretative suggestions are merely additions to others which have been made in each case by the commentators and translators available to me. E. Moore's invaluable Indices in Volume I (“Scripture and Classical Authors in Dante”)—now, unfortunately, out of print—of his Studies in Dante (Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1896) may be taken as practically basic among compendia of sources and parallels.

In an edition of a portion of Codex Alcobacensis 200 [ff. 195 Ro. to 219 Vo.] it was pointed out that the codex, no part of which had been edited before, is one of the oldest Portuguese manuscripts in the Alcobaça collection. It is described in part by Anselmo as follows: “Pergaminho.—277×204—[222 fl.];. . . recl. no firn de cada cad. de 10 fl.—leira gótica do séc. XV.—rubr.; iniciais a verm. e azul, filigranadas.” Burnam ascribes it to the fourteenth century and describes it as follows:

Ce ms. consiste en 212 ff. de parchemin, plus un f. de papier préliminaire, où se trouve le titre de l'ouvrage. L'écriture est à longues lignes, avec fleurons, lettres initiales rouges et bleues en alternative; le ms. est sans traits d'union ni titre courant. Presque tous les cahiers contiennent dix ff.; une fois il y en a six, deux fois huit, tous fournis de réclames, sauf le dernier.

Since the flowers of English romanticism are thoroughly familiar, I shall pay what might otherwise be a disproportionate amount of attention to the roots.

It has been amply demonstrated by students of Sir David Lindsay's Satire of the Three Estates that there were performances of the play in 1540, 1552, and 1554, and that the Three Estates as now extant in the quarto of 1602 and George Bannatyne's manuscript of 1568 represents a revision made subsequently to the year 1550. The normal view would be that Bannatyne's version derives from the manuscript later used for the edition of 1602; but Mr. Douglas Hamer, Lindsay's most recent editor, argues that the Bannatyne copy was made from a version of the Three Estates earlier than that used for the quarto of 1602.

That Masuccio's tale of the adventures of Giannozza and Mariotto was the principal source for Luigi da Porto's Giulietta e Romeo, a novella which agrees rather closely in plot with Shakespeare's tragedy, is generally acknowledged. The purpose of this paper is to show that many of da Porto's deviations from Masuccio are due to neglected literary influences rather than, as has commonly been supposed, to da Porto's originality.

Questo libretto del Bruni ci ha sempre interessati per il suo tono battagliero e per la revisione che il suo autore vi fa dei valori culturali del suo tempo. I Dialoghi a Pietro Vergerio apparvero in uno di quei momenti in cui la vita italiana stava per fare una svolta accelerando il ritmo ordinazio del suo divenire. Due generazioni vi si veggono nettamente l'una contro l'altra: quella degli Umanisti morali del secolo XIV e quella degli Umanisti estetizzanti del secolo seguente.