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His bonnet vail'd, ere ever I could think,

Though he perhaps ne'er pass’d the English shore,
Th' unruly wind blows off his periwink.

Yet fain would counted be a conqueror.
He lights and runs, and quickly bath him sped His hair, French-like, stares on his frighted head,
To overtake his over-running head.

One lock amazon-like dishevelled,
The sportful wind, to mock the headless man, As if he meant to wear a native cord,
Tosses apace his pitch'd Rogerian,

If chance his fates should him that bane afford.
And straight it to a deeper ditch hath blown : All British bare upon the bristled skin,
There must my yonker fetch his waxen crown. Close notched is his beard both lip and chin ;
I look'd and laugh`d, whiles, in his raging mind,

His linen collar labyrinthian set,
He curst all courtesy and unruly wind.

Whose thousand double turnings never met :
I look'd and laugh’d, and much I marvelled, His sleeves half hid with elbow pinionings,
To see so large a causeway in his head ;

As if he meant to fly with linen wings.
And me bethought that when it first begon, But when I look, and cast mine eyes below,
'Twas some shroad autumn that so bared the bone. What monster meets mine eyes in human show ?
Is't not sweet pride then, when the crowns must shade So slender waist with such an abbot's loin,
With that which jerks the hams of every jade, Did never sober nature sure conjoin.
Or floor-strew'd locks from off the barber's shears! Liköst a straw scare-crow in the new-sown field,
But waxen crowns well 'gree with borrow'd hairs. | Reard on some stick, the tender corn to shield ;

Or if that semblance suit not every deal,
Like a broad shake-fork with a slender steel.

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SEEST thou how gaily my young master goes,

SATIRE VIT. BOOK IV. Vaunting himself upon his rising toes ;

Quid placet ergo And pranks his hand upon his dagger's side ;

I wot not how the world's degenerate, And picks his glutted teeth since late noon-tide ? 'Tis Ruffio : Trow'st thou where he dined to-day? Out from the Gades up to th’ eastern morn,

That men or know or like not their estate : In sooth I saw him sit with Duke Humfrày.

Not one but holds his native state forlorn. Many good welcomes, and much gratis cheer,

When comely striplings wish it were their chance Keeps he for every straggling cavalier.

For Cænis' distaff to exchange their lance, And open house, haunted with great resort ;

And wear curl'd periwigs, and chalk their face,
Long service mix'd with musical disport.

And still are poring on their pocket-glass.
Many fair yonker with a feather'd crest,
Chooses much rather be his shot-free guest,

Tired with pinn'd ruffs and fans, and partlet strips
To fare so freely with so little cost,

And busks and verdingales about their hips ; Than stake his twelvepence to a meaner host.

And tread on corked stilts a prisoner's pace, Hadst thou not told me, I should surely say

And make their napkin for their spitting-place,

And gripe their waist within a narrow span : He touch'd no meat of all this live-long day.

Fond Canis, that wouldst wish to be a man ! For sure methought, yet that was but a guess,

Whose mannish housewives like their refuse state, His eyes seem'd sunk from very hollowness,

And make a drudge of their uxorious mate, But could he have (as I did it mistake)

Who like a cot-queen freezeth at the rock, So little in his purse, so much upon his back?

Whiles his breech'd dame doth man the foreign stock. So nothing in his maw? yet seemeth by his belt,

Is't not a shame to see each homely groom That his gaunt gut no too much stuffing felt.

Sit perched in an idle chariot room,
Seest thou how side it hangs beneath his hip ?

That were not meet some pannel to bestride,
Hunger and heavy iron makes girdles slip.
Yet for all that, how stiftly struts he by,

Surcingled to a galled hackney's hide ?

Each muck-worm will be rich with lawless gain,
All trapped in the new-found bravery.

Although he smother up mowsof seven years' grain,
The nuns of new-won Calais his bonnet lent,
In lieu of their so kind a conquerment.

And hang'd himself when corn grows cheap again ;
What needed he fetch that from farthest Spain,

Although he buy whole harvests in the spring,

And foist in false strikes to the measuring , His grandame could have lent with lesser pain?

Although his shop be muffled from the light, * In this description of a famished gallant, Hall has Like a day dungeon, or Cimmerian night ; rivalled the succeeding humour of Ben Jonson in similar

Nor full nor fasting can the carle take rest, comic portraits. Among the traits of affectation in his finished character, is that of dining with duke Humphry

While his george-nobles rusten in his chest ; while he pretends to keep open house. The phrase of † The general scope of this satire, as its motto denotes, dining with Duke Ilumphry arose from St. Paul's being is directed against the discontent of human beings with the general resort of the loungers of those days, many of their respective conditions. It paints the ambition of whom, like Hall's gallant, were glad to beguile the the youth to become a man, of the muckworm to be rich, thoughts of dinner with a walk in the middle aisle, of the rustic to become a soldier, of the rhymer to appear where there was a tomb, by mistake supposed to be that in print, and of the brain-sick reader of foreign wonders of Humphry, Duke of Gloucester.-E.

to become a traveller.-E.

He sleeps but once, and dreams of burglary, Now with discourses breaks his midnight sleep
And wakes, and casts about his frighted eye, Of his adventures through the Indian deep,
And gropes for thieves in every darker shade ; Of all their massy heaps of golden mine,
And if a mouse but stir, he calls for aid.

Or of the antique tombs of Palestine,
The sturdy ploughman doth the soldier see, Or of Damascus' magic wall of glass,
All scarf'd with piëd colours to the knee,

Of Solomon his sweating piles of brass,
Whom Indian pillage hath made fortunate, Of the bird ruc that bears an elephant,
And now he 'gins to loath his former state ; Of mermaids that the southern seas do haunt,
Now doth he inly scorn his Kendal-green,

Of headless men, of savage cannibals,
And his patch'd cockers now despised been ; The fashions of their lives and governals ;
Nor list he now go whistling to the car,

What monstrous cities there erected be,
But sells his team, and fetleth to the war.

Cairo, or the city of the Trinity ; O war! to them that never tried thee, sweet ! Now are they dunghill cocks that have not seen When his dead mate falls groveling at his feet, The bordering Alps, or else the neighbour And angry bullets whistlen at his ear,

Rhine: And his dim eyes see nought but death and drear. And now he plies the news-full Grasshopper, O happy ploughman! were thy weal well known : Of voyages and ventures to inquire. O happy all estates, except his own !

His land mortgaged, he sea-beat in the way, Some drunken rhymer thinks his time well spent, Wishes for home a thousand sighs a day ; If he can live to see his name in print,

And now he deems his home-bred fare as leaf Who, when he is once fleshed to the press, As his parch'd biscuit, or his barrell'd beef. And sees his hansell have such fair success, 'Mongst all these stirs of discontented strife, Sung to the wheel, and sung unto the pail, O let me lead an academic life ; He sends forth thraves of ballads to the sail, To know much, and to think for nothing, know Nor then can rest, but volumes up bodged rhymes, Nothing to have, yet think we have enow.; To have his name talked of in future times. In skill to want, and wanting seek for more ; The brain-sick youth, that feeds his tickled ear In weal nor want, nor wish for greater store. With sweet-sauced lies of some false traveller, Envy, ye monarchs, with your proud excess, Which hath the Spanish Decades read awhile, At our low sail, and our high happiness. Or whetstone leasings of old Mandeville,


(Died, 1606-9.) Was a native of Oxfordshire, and was born, as model. Dr. Percy thinks he rather resembled Mr. Ellis conjectures, in 1558. He left the uni- Ovid, to whom he is, if possible, still more unlike. versity of Oxford without a degree, and came to His poem is, in fact, an enormous ballad on the London, where he pursued the business of an history, or rather on the fables appendant to the attorney of the common pleas. Scott, the poet history of England ; heterogeneous, indeed, like of Amwell, discovered that he had been buried the Metamorphoses, but written with an almost in the church of that parish in 1609, having died doggrel simplicity. Headley has rashly preferred suddenly in the night-time. *

his works to our ancient ballads ; but with the His “ Albion's England” was once exceedingly best of these they will bear no comparison. popular. Its publication was at one time inter- Argentile and Curan has indeed some beautiful dicted by the Star-chamber, for no other reason touches, yet that episode requires to be weeded that can now be assigned, but that it contains of many lines to be read with unqualified pleasome love-stories more simply than delicately sure ; and through the rest of his stories we related. His contemporaries compared him to shall search in vain for the familiar magic of Virgil, whom he certainly did not make his such ballads as Chevy Chase or Gill Morrice.

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Argentile, the daughter and heiress of the deceased King,

Adelbright, has been left to the protection of her uncle
Edel, who discharges his trust unfaithfully, and seeks

Yet well he fosters for a time the damsel, that to force his niece to marry a suitor whom he believes to

was grown be ignoble, that he may have a pretext for seizing on

The fairest lady under heav'n, whose beauty her kingdom.

being known, (* 9th March 1608—9.]

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did see

he may,




A many princes seek her love, but none might Abrace of years he lived thus, well pleased so to live, her obtain,

And, shepherd-like, to feed a flock himself did For gripel Edel to himself her kingdom sought wholly give ; to gain,

So wasting love, by work and want, grew almost And for that cause, from sight of such he did his

to the wane, ward restrain.

And then began a second love the worser of the By chance one Curan, son unto a Prince of Danske,

twain ;

A country wench, a neat-herd's maid, where The maid with whom he fell in love, as much as

Curan kept his sheep, one might be :

Did feed her drove ; and now on her was all the
Unhappy youth, what should he do? his saint shepherd's keep.
was kept in mew;

He borrow'd on the working days his holie russets
Nor he nor any nobleman admitted to her view : oft,
One while in melancholy fits he pines himself away, And of the bacon's fat to make his startups black
Anon he thought by force of arms to win her if

and soft,

And lest his tar-box should offend, he left it at And still against the king's restraint did secretly the fold : inveigh.

Sweet grout or whig his bottle had as much as it At length the high controller, Love, whom none might hold; may disobey,

A shave of bread as brown as nut, and cheese as Imbased him from lordliness into a kitchen drudge,

white as snow, That so at least of life or death she might become And wildings, or the season's fruit, he did in scrip his judge ;

bestow ; Access so had, to see and speak, he did his love And whilst his pyebald cur did sleep, and sheepbewray,

hook lay him by, And tells his birth-heranswer was, she husband On hollow quills of oaten straw he piped melody ; less would stay :

But when he spied her his saint Meanwhile the king did beat his brain, his booty

Thus the shepherd woo'd. to achieve, Not caring what became of her, so he by her Thou art too elvish, faith, thou art; too elvish might thrive ;

and too coy ; At last his resolution was some peasant should her Am I, I pray thee, beggarly, that such a flockenjoy!

wive: And (which was working to his wish) he did ob Believe me, lass, a king is but a man, and so am I; serve with joy,

Content is worth a monarchy, and mischiefs hit How Curan, whom he thought a drudge, scap'd

the high, many an am'rous toy :

As late it did a king, and his, not dwelling far The king, perceiving such his vein, promotes his from hence, vassal still,

Who left a daughter, save thyself, for fair a Lest that the baseness of the man should let matchless wench; perhaps his will ;

Here did he pause, as if his tongue had done his
Assured, therefore, of his love, but not suspecting heart offence :

The neatress, longing for the rest, did egg him
The lover was, the king himself in his behalf did woo: on to tell
The lady,resolute from love, unkindly takes that he How fair she was, and who she was.

She bore,
Should bar the noble and unto so base a match quoth he, the belle;

For beauty, though I clownish am, I know what And therefore, shifting out of doors, departed beauty is, hence by stealth,

Or did I not, yet seeing thee, I senseless were to Preferring poverty before a dangerous life in

miss : wealth.

Suppose her beauty Helen's like, or Helen's When Curan heard of her escape, the anguish of something less, his heart

And every star consorting to a pure complexion Was more than much, and after her he did from guess ; court depart;

Her stature comely tall, her gait well graced, and Forgetful of hmself, his birth, his country, friends,

her wit and all,

To marvel at, not meddle with, as matchless I And only minding whom he miss'd, the foundress

omit ; of his thrall :

A globe-like head, a gold-like hair, a forehead Nor means he after to frequent the court, or

smooth and high, stately towns,

An even nose ; ou either side did shine a greyish But solitarily to live among the country growds.







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Her smiles were sober, and her looks were cheer

full unto all, And such as neither wanton seem, nor wayward,

mell nor gall : A nymph no tongue, no heart, no eye, might

praise, might wish, might see, For life, for love, for form, more good, more

worth, more fair than she ; Yea, such a one as such was none, save only she

was such ; Of Argentile, to say the most, were to be silent

much.I knew the lady very well, but worthless of such

praise, The neatress said, and muse I do a shepherd thus

should blaze The coat of beauty ; credit me, thy latter speech

bewrays Thy clownish shape a colour'd show ; but where

fore dost thou weep ?The shepherd wept, and she was woe, and both

did silence keep :In troth, quoth he, I am not such as seeming I

profess, But then for her, and now for thee, I from my

self digress ;

Her loved I, wretch that I am, a recreant

to be, I loved her that hated love, but now I die for

thee. At Kirkland is my father's court, and Curan is

my name, In Edel's court sometime in pomp, till love con.

trollid the same ; But now—what now ? dear heart, how


what aileth thou to weep ?The damsel wept, and he was woe, and both did

silence keep. I grant, quoth she, it was too much, that you did

love so much, But whom your former could not move, your

second love doth touch; Thy twice-beloved Argentile submitteth her to

thee, And, for thy double love, presents herself a

single fee ; In passion, not in person, changed ; and I, my

lord, am she ;Thus sweetly surfeiting in joy, and silent for a

space, When as the ecstasy had end, did tenderly




(Born, 1561? Died, 1612?)

A SPECIMEN of the poetry of Sir John Har- | His son, the translator of Ariosto, was knighted rington's father has been already given in this on the field by the Earl of Essex, not much to volume, which is so polished and refined, as the satisfaction of Elizabeth, who was sparing of almost to warrant a suspicion that the editor of such honours, and chose to confer them herself. the Nugre Antiquæ got it from a more modern He was created a knight of the Bath in the reign quarter. The elder Harrington was imprisoned of James, and distinguished himself, to the violent in the Tower, under Queen Mary, for holding a offence of the high church party, by his zeal correspondence with Elizabeth ; on whose acces against the marriage of bishops. sion his fidelity was rewarded by her favour.



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A TAILOR, thought a man of upright dealing He walked mannerly, he talked meekly,
True, but for lying-honest, but for stealing, He heard three lectures and two sermons weekly;
Did fall one day extremely sick by chance, He vow'd to shun all company unruly,
And on the sudden was in wond'rous trance ; And in his speech he used no oath ; but truly
The fiends of hell, mustering in fearful manner, And zealously to keep the sabbath's rest,
Of sundry colour'd silks display'd a banner His meat for that day on the eve was drest;
Which he had stolen, and wishid, as they did tell, And lest the custom which he had to steal
That he might find it all one day in hell.

Might cause him sometimes to forget his zeal, The man, affrighted with this apparition, He gives his journeyman a special charge, 1 'pon recovery grew a great precisian :

That if the stuff, allowance being large, He bought a Bible of the best translation, He found his fingers were to filch inclined, And in his life he show'd great reformation ; Bid him to have the banner in his mind.

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(EDIT. 1613.) PERROT, I suspect, was not the author, but to ascertain the real authors of a vast number of only the collector of these trifles, some of which little pieces of the 16th and 17th centuries, as are claimed by other epigrammatists, probably the minor poets pilfer from each other with the with no better right. It is indeed very difficult utmost coolness and apparent impunity.

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Was born in 1581, and perished in the Tower a dryness and quaintness that seem to oppress of London, 1613, by a fate that is too well known. the natural movement of his thoughts. As a The compassion of the public for a man of worth, poet, he has few imposing attractions : his “ whose spirit still walked unrevenged amongst beauties must be fetched by repeated perusal. them,” together with the contrast of his ideal They are those of solid reflection, predominating Wife with the Countess of Essex, who was his over, but not extinguishing, sensibility; and there murderess, attached an interest and popularity is danger of the reader neglecting, under the to his poem, and made it pass through sixteen coldness and ruggedness of his manner, the manly editions before the year 1653. His Characters, but unostentatious moral feeling that is conveyed or Witty Descriptions of the Properties of sundry in his maxims, which are sterling and liberal, if Persons, is a work of considerable merit ; but

we can only pardon a few obsolete ideas on unfortunately his prose, as well as his verse, has female education.



And be that thought once stirr'd, 'twill never Then may I trust her body with her mind,

die, And, thereupon secure, need never know

Nor will the grief more mild by custom prove,
The pangs of jealousy : and love doth find

Nor yet amendment can it satisfy ;
More pain to doubt her false than find her so;

The anguish more or less is as our love;
For patience is, of evils that are known,

This misery doth from jealousy ensue,
The certain remedy ; but doubt hath none.

That we may prove her false, but cannot true.

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