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For if I thought it were not so,
Though it were so, it griev'd me not ;
Unto my thought it were as thô
I hearkened though I hear not.
At that I see I cannot wink,
Nor from my thought so let it go :
I would it were not as I think ;
I would I thought it were not.
Lo ! how my thought might make me free,
Of that perchance it needs not :
Perchance none doubt the dread I see ;
I shrink at that I bear not.

But in my heart this word shall sink,
Until the proof may better be :
I would it were not as I think ;
I would I thought it were not.
If it be not, shew no cause why
I should so think, then care I not ;
For I shall so myself apply
To be that I appear not.
That is, as one that shall not shrink
To be your own until I die ;
And if that be not as I think,
Likewise to think it is not.


[Born, 1516. Died, 1547.) Walpole, Ellis, and Warton, gravely inform Wood", and from him copied, by mistake, by us that Lord Surrey contributed to the victory Walpole and Warton, sends the poet on his of Flodden, a victory which was gained before romantic tour to Italy, as the knight errant of Lord Surrey was born. The mistakes of such the fair Geraldine. There is no proof, however, writers may teach charity to criticism. Dr. that Surrey was ever in Italy. At the period of Nott, who has cleared away much fable and his imagined errantry, his repeated appearance anachronism from the noble poet's biography, at the court of England can be ascertained ; and supposes that he was born in or about the year Geraldine, if she was a daughter of the Earl 1516, and that he was educated at Cambridge, of Kildare, was then only a child of seven years of which university he was afterwards elected oldt. high steward. At the early age of sixteen he That Surrey entertained romantic sentiments was contracted in marriage to the Lady Frances for the fair Geraldine, seems, however, to admit Vere, daughter to John Earl of Oxford. The of little doubt ; and that too at a period of her Duke of Richmond was afterwards affianced to youth which makes his homage rather surprising. Surrey's sister. It was customary, in those The fashion of the age sanctioned such courttimes, to delay, frequently for years, the con- ships, under the liberal interpretation of their summations of such juvenile matches ; and the being platonic. Both Sir P. Sydney and the writer of Lord Surrey's life, already mentioned, Chevalier Bayard avowed attachments of this gives reasons for supposing that the poet's exalted nature to married ladies, whose reputaresidence at Windsor, and his intimate friend- tions were never sullied, even when the mistress ship with Richmond, so tenderly recorded in his wept openly at parting from her admirer. Of verses, took place, not in their absolute child- the nature of Surrey's attachment we may conjechood, as has been generally imagined, but imme- ture what we please, but can have no certain test diately after their being contracted to their even in his verses, which might convey either respective brides. If this was the case, the much more or much less than he felt ; and how poet's allusion to

shall we search in the graves of men for the The secret groves which oft we made resound

shades and limits of passions that elude our living Of pleasant plaint, and of our ladies' praise.

observation ? may be charitably understood as only recording

* Nash's History of Jack Wilton. the aspirations of their conjugal impatience. | If concurring proofs did not so strongly point out his Surrey's marriage was consummated in 1535.

poetical mistress Geraldine to be the daughter of the Earl

of Kildare, we might well suspect, from the date of In the subsequent year he sat with his father, as Surrey's attachment, that the object of his praises must Earl Marshal, on the trial of his kinswoman have been some other person. Geraldine, when he deAnne Boleyn. Of the impression which that

clared his devotion to her, was only thirteen years of age. event made upon his mind, there is no trace to

She was taken, in her childhood, under the protection of

the court, and attended the Prir.cess Mary. At the age be found either in his poetry, or in tradition. of fifteen she married Sir Anthony Wood, a man of His grief for the amiable Richmond, whom he sixty, and after his death accepted the Earl of Lincoln. lost soon after, is more satisfactorily testified.

From Surrey's verses we find that she slighted bis ad

dresses, after having for some time encouraged them ; It is about this period that the fiction of Nash, and from his conduct it appears that he hurried into war unfaithfully misapplied as reality by Anthony and public business in order to forget her indifference.

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Towards the close of 1540, Surrey embarked approach with 60,000 men, the English in public business. A rupture with France able retreat, of which Surrey cond being anticipated, he was sent over to that king- movements as marshal of the camp. dom, with Lord Russell and the Earl of South He returned with his father to Ens ampton, to see that everything was in a proper must have made only a short stay at state of defence within the English pale. He we find him soon after fighting a spirit had previously been knighted ; and had jousted in the neighbourhood of Boulogne, in in honour of Anne of Cleves, upon her marriage chased back the French as far as A with Henry. The commission did not detain The following year he commanded the him long in France. He returned to England of the army of Boulogne, and finally before Christmas, having acqaitted himself and obtained the government of that i entirely to the king's satisfaction. In the next was then nearly defenceless; the bread year, 1541, we may suppose him to have been paired, the fortifications in decay, and t) occupied in his literary pursuits—perhaps in his with superior numbers, established so i translation of Virgil. England was then at peace be able to command the harbour, ar both at home and abroad, and in no other subse upon the lower town. Under such quent year of Surrey's life could his active service tages, Surrey entered on his command, have allowed him leisure. In 1542 he received up and sent home a plan of alteratio the order of the Garter, and followed his father works, which was approved of by the in the expedition of that year into Scotland, ordered to be acted upon. Nor were h where he acquired his first military experience. merely defensive. On one occasion h Amidst these early distinctions it is somewhat men into the enemy's country as far a mortifying to find him, about this period, twice au-Bois, which he destroyed, and ret committed to the Fleet prison ; on one occasion safety with considerable booty. on account of a private quarrel, on another for hearing that the French intended to eating meat in Lent, and for breaking the win their camp at Outreau, he compelled dows of the citizens of London with stones from abandon their object, pursued them a his cross-bow. This was a strange misdemeanour Hardilot, and was only prevented from indeed, for a hero and a man of letters. His a complete victory through the want of apology, perhaps as curious as the fact itself, But his plan for the defence of Boulogne turns the action only into quixotic absurdity. by his own extant memorial, is said t His motive, he said, was religious. He saw the great military skill, was marred by the citizens sunk in papal corruption of manners,

one unfortunate sally. In order to pre and he wished to break in upon their guilty French from revictualling a fortress that secrecy by a sudden chastisement, that should the safety of Boulogne, he found it ne remind them of Divine retribution !

with his slender forces, to risk another a The war with France called him into more St. Etienne. His cavalry first charg honourable activity. In the first campaign he routed those of the French : the foot, w joined the army under Sir John Wallop, at the commanded in person, next advanced, siege of Landrecy; and in the second and larger first line, consisting chiefly of gentlemer expedition he went as marshal of the army of with corselets, behaved gallantly, but the which his father commanded the vanguard. line, in coming to the push of the pik The siege of Montreuil was allotted to the Duke seized with a sudden panic, and fled of Norfolk and his gallant son ; but their opera. Boulogne, in spite of all the efforts of the tions were impeded by the want of money, mander to rally them. Within a few ammunition, and artillery, supplies most pro

after this affair he was recalled to Engla bably detained from reaching them by the in. Hertford went out to France as the king fluence of the Earl of Hertford, who had long tenant-general. regarded both Surrey and his father with a It does not appear, however, that the jealous eye. In these disastrous circumstances this action was the pretext for his recal, Surrey seconded the duke's efforts with zeal and direct cause of the king's vengeance, by ability. On one expedition he was out two days he was subsequently destined to fall. and two nights, spread destruction among the

faction of Hertford, that was intriguing resources of the enemy, and returned to the camp him at home, ever succeeded in fretting the with a load of supplies, and without the loss of humour against him, by turning his mis a single man. In a bold attempt to storm the into a topic of blame, Henry's irritation town he succeeded so far as to make a lodge have passed away, as we find Surrey re ment in one of the gates ; but was dangerously with promises of being replaced in con wounded, and owed his life to the devoted (a promise, however, which was basely fal bravery of his attendant Clere, who received a and again appearing at court in an hond hurt in rescuing him, of which he died a month station. But the event of his recal (th after. On the report of the Dauphin of France's does not seem to have been marked by

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of royal displeasure) certainly contributed in- against her husband, from whom she had been directly to his ruin, by goading his proud temper long separated, and by the still more unaccountto farther hostilities with Hertford. Surrey, on able and unnatural hatred of the Duchess of his return to England, spoke of his enemy with in Richinond against her own brother. Surrey was dignation and menaces, and imprudently expressed arrested on the 12th of December, 1546, and his hopes of being revenged in a succeeding committed to the Tower. The depositions of reign. His words were reported, probably with witnesses against him, whose collective testimony exaggeration, to the king, and occasioned his did not substantiate even a legal offence, were being sent, for some time, as a prisoner to transmitted to the king's judges at Norwich, and Windsor. He was liberated, however, from a verdict was returned, in consequence of which thence, and again made his appearance at court, he was indicted for high treason. We are not unsuspicious of his impending ruin.

told the full particulars of his defence, but are It is difficult to trace any personal motives that only generally informed that it was acute and could impel Henry to wish for his destruction. spirited. With respect to the main accusation, He could not be jealous of his intentions to marry of his bearing the arms of the Confessor, he the Princess Mary—that fable is disproved by proved that he had the authority of the heralds the discovery of Surrey's widow having survived in so doing, and that he had worn them himself him. Nor is it likely that the king dreaded him in the king's presence, as his ancestors had worn as an enemy to the Reformation, as there is every them in the presence of former kings. Notwithreason to believe that he was a Protestant. The standing his manifest innocence, the jury was natural cruelty of Henry seems to have been but base enough to find him guilty. The chancellor an instrument in the designing hands of Hert-pronounced sentence of death upon him ; and in ford, whose ambition, fear, and jealousy, prompted the flower of his age, in his 31st year, this noble him to seek the destruction of Norfolk and his soldier and accomplished poet was beheaded on

His measures were unhappily aided by the Tower-hill. vindictive resentment of the Duchess of Norfolk



So cruel prison how could betide, alas !

The wild forest, the clothed holts with green; As proud Windsor? Where I in lust and joy, With reins avail’ds, and swift ybreathed lorse, With a king's son, my childish years did pass, With cry of hounds, and merry blasts between, In greater feast than Priam's sons of Troy ; Where we did chase the fearful hart of force. Where each sweet place returns a taste full sour. The void walls eke that harbour'd us each night : The large green courts, where we were wont to rove, Wherewith, alas ! revive within my breast With eyes upcast unto the maiden's tower, The sweet accord, such sleeps as yet delight ; And easy sighs, such as folk draw in love.

The pleasant dreams, the quiet bed of rest; The stately seats, the ladies bright of hue,

The secret thoughts, imparted with such trust; The dances short, long tales of great delight; The wanton talk, the divers change of play ; With words and looks that tigers could but rue, The friendship sworn, each promise kept so just, When each of us did plead the other's right. Wherewith we past the winter nights away. The palm plays, where dèsported for the game, And with this thought the blood forsakes the With dazed eyes oft we, by gleams of love,

face; Have miss'd the ball, and got sight of our dame, The tears berain my cheeks of deadly hue : To bait her eyes, which kept the leads above. The which, as soon as sobbing sighs, alas ! The gravell’d ground, with sleeves tied on the helm, Upsupped have, thus I my plaint renew : On foaming horse with swords and friendly hearts; O place of bliss ! renewer of my woes ! With cheer as though one should another whelm, Gis

me account, where is my noble fered? Where we have fought, and chased oft with darts. Whom in thy walls thou didst each night With silver drops the meads yet spread for ruth; enclose; In active games of nimbleness and strength, To other liefe: but unto me most dear. Where we did strain, trained with swarms of youth, Echo, alas ! that doth my sorrow rue, Our tender limbs that yet shot up in length. Returns thereto a hollow sound of plaint. The secret groves, which oft we made resound Thus I alone, where all my freedom grew, Of pleasant plaint, and of our ladies' praise ; In prison pine, with bondage and restraint : Recording oft what grace each one had found, And with remembrance of the greater grief, What hope of speed, what dread of long delays. To banish the less, I find my chief relief.

d Companion. e Beloved.

* Tennis-court.

b Stript.

c Shortened.




The sooter season, that bud and bloom forth

With green hath clad the hill, and eke the vale,
The nightingale with feathers new she sings;
The turtle to her makes hath told her tale.
Summer is come, for every spray now springs.
The hart hath hung his old head on the pale ;
The buck in brake his winter coat he flings ;
The fishes fleet with new repaired scale ;
The adder all her slough away she flings;
The swift swallow pursueth the flies small;
The busy bee her honey now she mingsb;
Winter is worn that was the flower's balei.

And thus I see among these pleasant things
| Each care decays, and yet my sorrow springs.
1 Sweet
& Mate.

h Mingles i Destruction.

When Windsor walls sustain'd my wearied arm;
My hand my chin, to ease my restless head;
The pleasant plot revested green with warm ;
The blossom’d boughs with lusty ver yspread ;
The flower'd meads, the wedded birds so late
Mine eyes discover ; and to my mind resort
The jolly woes, the hateless short debate,
The rakehell k life that longs to love's disport.
Wherewith, alas ! the heavy charge of care
Heap'd in my breast, breaks forth against my will
In smoky sighs that overcast the air.
My vapour'd eye such dreary tears distil,
The tender green they quicken where they fall ;
And I half bend to throw me down withal.

k Careless-Rakil, or rakle, seems synonymous with reckless.


(Died, 1560)

He was

It is now universally admitted that Lord Vaux, / pieces are found in the Paradise of Dainty De. the poet, was not Nicholas the first peer, but vices. Mr. Park a has noticed a passage in the Thomas, the second baron of that name.

prose prologue to Sackville's Introduction to the one of those who attended Cardinal Wolsey on Mirror for Magistrates, that Lord Vaux had his embassy to Francis the First. He received undertaken to complete the history of King Edthe order of the Bath at the coronation of Anne ward's two sons who were murdered in the Boleyn, and was for some time Captain of the Tower, but that it does not appear he ever island of Jersey. A considerable number of his executed his intention.

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(Born, 1523 Died, 1566. ] Was a principal contributor to the Paradise | able sonneteer, and the most facetious mimic of of Dainty Devices, and one of our earliest dra the court. In the beginning of Elizabeth's reign matic authors. He wrote two comedies, one he was one of the gentlemen of her chapel, and entitled Damon and Pythias, the other Palamon master of the children there, having the character and Arcite, both of which were acted before of an excellent musician. His pleasing little Queen Elizabeth. Besides his regular dramas, poem, the Amantium Ire, has been so often rehe appears to have contrived masques, and to printed, that, for the sake of variety, I have have written verses for pageants; and is described selected another specimen of his simplicity. as having been the first fiddle, the most fashion


The mountains high, whose lofty tops do meet

the haughty sky ; The craggy rock, that to the sea free passage doth

deny ; The aged oak, that doth resist the force of blus

tring blast; The pleasant herb, that everywhere a pleasant

smell doth cast ; The lion's force, whose courage stout declares a

prince-like might ; The eagle, that for worthiness is born of kings in


My faith, lo here! I vow to thee, my troth thou

know'st too well ; My goods, my friends, my life, is thine ; what

need I more to tell ? I am not mine, but thine ; I vow thy hests I will

And serve thee as a servant ought, in pleasing if

I may ;
And sith I have no flying wings, to serve thee as

I wish,
Ne fins to cut the silver streams, as doth the

gliding fish;
Wherefore leave now forgetfulness, and send

again to me, And strain thy azure veins to write, that I may

greeting see. And thus farewell ! more dear to me than chiefest

friend I have, Whose love in heart I mind to shrine, till Death

his fee do crave.


Then these, I say, and thousands more, by tract

of time decay, And, like to time, do quite consume, and fade

from form to clay ; But my true heart and service vow'd shall last

time out of mind, And still remain as thine by doom, as Cupid hath

assigned ;


Was a gentleman of Edward the Sixth's Chapel, | ful of Honeysuckle," and other godly works. and afterwards master of the boys of Queen He died in 1568. Hunnis was also a writer of Elizabeth's Chapel. He translated the Psalms, Interludes..See Collier's Annals of the Stage, and was author of a “ Hive of Honey,” a “ Hand vol. i., p. 235.


In search of things that secret are my mated

muse began, What it might be molested most the head and

mind of man ;

The bending brow of prince's face, to wrath that

doth attend, Or want of parents, wife, or child, or loss of

faithful friend ;

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