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THE ARGUMENT.

earl of Richmond (after Henry VII.) at Bosworth | The ship, to which for succour it repairs,
field, a brave and gallant gentleman, who was slain That is yourself, regardless of my cares.
by Richard there, this was father to this Charles Of (very surge doth fall, or wave doth rise,
Brandon, duke of Suffolk.

To some one thing I sit and moralize.

When for thy love I left the Belgic shore,
Divine Erasmus and our famous More,

W'hose happy presen'e gave me such delight,
HENRY HOWARD, EARL OF SURREY, TO As made a minute of a winter's oigot;
THE LADY GERALDINE.

With whom a while I staid at Roterdame,
Now so renowned by Erasmus' name:
Yet every bour did seem a world of time,
Till I had seen that soul-reviving cline,

And thought the foggy Netherlands unfit,
The earl of Surrey, that renowned lord,

A wat'ry soil to clog a fiery wit. Th’old English glory bravely that restord, And as that wealthy Germany I pass'd, That prince and poet (a naine more divine) Coming unto the en peror's court at last, Falling in love with beauteous Geraldine, (2) Great-learu'd Agrippa, so profound in art, Of the Geraldi, which derive their name Who the infernal secrets doth impart, From Florence : whither, to advance her fame, When of thy health I did desire to know, He travels, and in public jousts maintain'd

Me in a glass my Geraldine did show, Hec beauty peerless, which by arms he gain'd: Sick in thy bed; and, for thou could'st not sleep But staying long, fair Italy to see,

By a wax taper set the light to keep; To let her know him constant still to be,

I do remember thou didst read that ode, From Tuscany this letter to her writes;

Sent hack whilst I in Thant made abode,
Which her rescription instantly invites.

Where when thou cain'st unto that word of love,
Ev'n in thine eyes I saw how passion strore:

That snowy lawn which covered thy bed,
From (') learned Florence (long time rich in fame) Methought look'd white, to see thy cheek so red;
From whence thy race, thy noble grandsires came Thy rosy check oft changing in my sight,
To famous England, that kind nurse of mine, Yet still was red, to see the lawn so white :
Thy Surrey sends to heav'nly Geraldine.

The little taper which should give thee light, Yet let not Tuscan think I do it wrong,

Methought wax'd dim, to see thy eyes so bright; That I from thence write in my native tongue ; Thine eye again supply'd the taper's turn, That in these harsh-tun'd cadences I sing,

And with his brams more brightly made it burn : Sitting so near the Muses' sacred spring ;

The shrugging air about thy temples hurls, But rather think itself adoro'd thereby,

And wrapp'd thy breath in little clouded curls; That England reads the praise of Italy.

And as it did ascend, it straight did seize it,
Though to the Tuscans I the smoothness grant, And as it sunk, it presently did raise it.
Our dialect no majesty doth want,

Canst thou by sickness banish beauty so,
To set thy praises in as high a key,

Which if pet from thee, knows not where to go As France, or Spain, or Germany, or they. To make her shift, and for her surcour seek

What day I quit the fore-land of fair Kent, To every rivel'd face, each bankrupt cheek? And that my ship her course for Flanders bent, “ If health preserv'd, thou beauty still dost cherish; Yet think I with how many a heavy look

If that neglected, beauty soon doth perish." My leave of England and of thee I look,

Care draws on care, woe comforts woe again, And did entreat the tide (if it might be)

Sorrow breeds sorrow, one grief brings forth twain. But to convey me one sigh back to thee.

If live or die, as thou dost, so do I; Up to the deck a billow lightly skips,

If live, I live; and if thou die, I die : Taking my sigh, and down again it slips,

One heart, one love, one joy, one grief, one troth, Into the gulph itself it headlong throws,

One good, one ill, one life, one death to both. And as a post to England-ward it goes.

If Howard's blood thou hold'st as but too vile, As I sat wond'ring how the rough sea stirr'd, Or not csteem'st of Norfolk's princely style; I might far off perceive a little bird,

If Scotland's coat no mark of fame can lend, Which as she fain from shore to shore would fly, (3) That lion plac'd in our bright silver bend, Had lost herself in the broad vasty sky,

Which as a trophy beautifies our shield, Her feeble wing beginning to deceive her,

(4) Since Scottish blood discolourd Floden field;
The seas of life still gaping to bereave her: When the proud Cheviot our brave ensign bare,
Unto the ship she makes, which she discovers, As a rich jewel in a lady's hair,
And there (poor fool!) a while for refuge hovers; And did fair Bramston's neighbouring vallies choke
And when at length her flagging pinion fails, With clouds of cannons' fire-disgorged smoke:
Panting she hangs upon the railling sails,

Or Surrey's earldom insufficient be,
And being forc'd to loose her hold with pain, And not a dower so well contenting thee:
Yet beaten off, she straight lights on again, Yet I am one of great Apollo's heirs,
And toss'd with flaws, with storms, with wind, with The sacred Muses challenge me for theirs,
weather,

By princes my immortal lines are sung,
Yet still departing thence, still turneth thither : My flowing verses grac'd with ev'ry tongue:
Now with the poop, now with the prow doth bear, The little children when they learn to go,
Now on this side, now that, now here, now there. By painful mothrys daded to and fro,
Methinks these storms should be my sad depart, Are taught by sogar'd numbers to rehearse,
The silly helpless bird is my poor heart

And have their sweet lips season'd with my versa

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When Hear'n would strive to do the best it can, When to my chamber I myself retire, And pot an angel's spirit into man,

Burnt with the sparks that kindled all this fire, The utnost pow'r it hath, it then doth spend, Thinking of England, which my hope contains, When to the world a poet it doth intend.

The happy isle where Geraldine remains :
That little diff'rence 'twixt the gods and us, (') of Hunsdoa, where those sweet celestial eyne
(By thern confirm’d) distinguish'd only thus: At first did pierce this tender breast of mine :
Whom they in birth ordaid to happy days, (6) Of Hampton-court and Windsor, where abound
The gods commit their glory to our praise ; All pleasures that in Paradise were found :
T' eternal life when they dissolve their breath,

Near that fair castle is a little grove,
We likewise share a second pow'r by death. With hanging rocks all cover'd from above,

When time shall turn those amber locks to gray, Which on the bank of goodly Thames doth stand, My verse again shall gild and make them gay, Clipt by the water from the other land, and trick them up in knotted curls anew,

Whose bushy top doth bid the Sun forbear, And to thy autumn give a summer's hue :

And checks his proud beams that would enter there; That sacred pow'r, that in my ink remains, Whose leaves still wutt'ring, as the air doth Shall put fresh blood into thy wither'd veins,

breathe, And on thy red decny'd, thy whiteness dead,

With the sweet bubbling of the stream beneath, Shall set a white more white, a red more red: Doth rock the senses (whilst the small birds sing) When thy dim sight thy glass cannot descry,

Lulled asleep with gentle murmuring ; Nor thy craz'd mirror can discern thine eye; Where light-foot Pairies sport at prison base, My verse, to tell th' one what the other was, (No doubt there is some pow'r frequents the place) Shall represent them both, thine eye and glass : There the soft poplar and smooth beach do bear Where both thy mirror and thine eye shall see, Our names, together carved every where, What once thou saw'st in tbat, that saw in thee;

And Gordian knots do curiously entwine And to them both shall tell the simple truth, The names of Henry and of Geraldine. Wbat that in pureness was, what thou in youth.

O let this grove, in happy times to come, If Florence once should lose her old renown,

Be call'd the lovers' bless'd Elysium, As famous Athens, now a fisher town;

Whither my mistress wonted to resort, My lines for thee a Florence shall erect,

In summer's heat, in those sweet shades to sport : Which great Apollo ever shall protect,

A thousand sundry names I have it given, And with the numbers from my peu that falls,

And call'd it Wonder-hider, Cover-heav'n, Bring marble mines to re-erect those walls. The roof where Beauty her rich court doth keep, (“) Nor beauteous Stanhope, whom all tongues Under whose compass all the stars do sleep. To be the glory of the English court, (report There is one tree, which now I call to mind, Shall by our nation be so much admir'd,

Doth bear these verses carved in the rind : If ever Surrey truly were inspir'd.

" When Geraldine shall sit in thy fair shade, (") And famous Wyat, who in numbers sings Fan her fair tresses with perfumed air, To that evchanting Thracian harper's strings, Let thy large boughs a canopy be made, To whom Phæbus (the poets' god) did drink

To keep the Sun from gazing on my fair : A bowl of nectar, fill'd up to the brink;,

And when thy spreading branched arms be sunk, And sweet-tongu'd Bryan (whom the Muses kept, And thou no sap nor pith shalt more retain, And in his cradle rockt him whilst be slept)

Ev'n from the dust of thy unwieldy trunk In sacred verses (most divinely penu’d)

I will renew thee, phenix-like, again, Upon thy praises ever shall attend.

And from thy dry decayed root will bring What time I came into this famous town, A new-boru stem, another Æson's spring.” And made the cause of my arrival known,

I And no cause, nor judge I reason why, Great Medices a list for triumphs built ;

My country should give place to Lombardy. Within the which upon a tree of gilt,

As goodly flow'rs on Thamesis do grow, (Which was with sundry rare devices set) As beautify the banks of wanton Po; I did erect thy lovely counterfeit,

As many nymphs as haunt rich Arnus' strand, To answer those Italian dames' desire,

By silver Severn tripping hand in hand: Which daily came thy beauty to admire : Our sbade's as sweet, thongh not to us so dear, By which, my lion in his gaping jaws

Because the Sun hath greater power there.
Keld up my lance, and in his dreadful paws

This distant place doth give me greater woe;
Reacheth my gauntlet unto him that dare Far off, my sighs the farther have to go.
A beauty with my Geraldine's compare.

Ah, absence! why thus should'st thou seem są Which, when each manly valiant arm assays,

long? After so many brave triumphant days,

Or wherefore should'st thou offer time such wrong, The glorious prize upon my lance I bear,

Summer so soon to steal on winter's cold, By herald's voice proclaim'd to be thy share. Or winter blasts so soon make summer old ? The shiver'd staves here for thy beauty broke,

Love did us both with one self-arrow strike, With fierce encounters past at ev'ry shock,

Our wounds both one, our cure should be the like ; Wben stormy courses answer'd cuff for cuff, Except thon hast found out some mean by art, Denting proud beavers with the counter-buff, Some pow'rful med'cine to withdraw the dart; Upon an altar, burnt with holy flame,

But mine is fixt, and absence being proved, I sacrific'd, as incense to thy fame:

It sticks too fast, it cannot be removed.
Where, as the phenix from her spiced fume

Adieu, adieu ! from Florence when I go,
Renews herself, in that she doth consume; By my next letters Geraldine shall know,
So from these sacred ashes live we both,

Which if good fortune shall by course direct,
Ev'n as that one Arabian wonder doth,

From Venice by some messenger expect; VOL IV.

H

Till when, I leave thee to thy heart's desire,

And of her: By hiin that lives thy virtues to adınire.

I might perceive a wolf, as white as a whale's bone,

A fairer beast of fresher hue beheld I never none, ANNOTATIONS OF THE CHRONICLE HISTORY.

But that her looks were coy, and froward was her

grace. (") From learned Florence, long time rich in fame.

(0) And famous Wyat, who in numbers sings. Florence, a city of Tuscany, standing upon the

Sir Thomas Wyat the elder, a most excellent river Arnus (celebrated by Dante, Petrarch, and other the inost poble wits of Italy) was the original certain

encomiums, written by the earl of Sarrey

poet, as his poems extant do witness; besides of the family out of which this Geraldine did spring, as Ireland the place of her birth, which is upon some of David's Psalms, by him translated : intimated by these verses of the earl of Surrey:

What holy grave, what worthy sepulchre,

To W' yat's Psalm shall Christians purchase then ? From Tuscan came my lady's worthy race, Fair Florence was sometime her ancient seat; And afterward, upon his death, the said earl "The Western isle, whose pleasant shore doth face writeth thus: Wild Camber's cliffs, did give her lively heat. What virtues rare were temper'd in thy breast!

Honour that England such a jewel bred, (?) Great learn'd Agrippa, so profound in art.

And kiss the ground whereas thy corpse did rest. Cornelius Agrippa, a man in his time so famous () of Hunsdon, where those sweet celestial eyne. fr. magic, (which the books publish'd by him con

It is manifest by a cerning that argument do partly prove) as in this

sonnet written by this place needs no farther remembrance. Howbeit, noble earl, that the first tinse he beheld his lady as those abstruse and gloomy arts are but illusions,

was at Hunsdon : so in the honour of so rare a gentleman as this Hunsdon did first present her to mine eyne. earl (aud'therewithal so noble a poet, a quality which sonnet being altogether a description of his by which his other titles receive their greatest love, I do allege in divers places of this gloss as lústre) invention may make somewhat more bold proofs of what I write. with Agrippa above the barren truth.

() Of Hampton-court and Windsor, where abound (') That lion set in our bright silver bend,

All pleasures, &c. The blazon of the Howards' honourable armour That he enjoy'd the presence of his fair and was,

“ Gules between six crosslets fitchy a bend virtuous mistress at those two places, by reason argent;" to which afterwards was added by of queen Katharine's usual abode there (on whom achievement, “ In the canton point of the bend an this lady Geraldine was attending) 1 prove by these escutcheon or, within the Scottish pressure a demi verses of his: lion rampant gules,” &c. as Mr. Camden, now

Hampton me taught to wish her first for mine; Clarencieux, from authority noteth. Never shall

Windsor (alas !) doth chase me from her sight. time or bitter envy be able to obscure the brightness of so great a victory as that for which this and in another sonnet following: addition was obtained. The historian of Scotland,

When Windsor walls sustain'd my weary'd arın, George Buchanan, reporteth, that the earl of

My hand, my chin, to ease my restless head. Surrey gave for his barge “a silver lion," (which

And that his delight might draw him to comfrom antiquity belonged to that name) “tearing in pieces a lion prostrate gules;” and withal, pare Windsor to Paradise, an elegy may prove; that this, which he terms insolence, was punished where he remembreth his passed pleasures in that in him and his posterity; as if it were fatal to the place. conqueror to do his sovereign such loyal service, With a king's son my childish years I pass d, as a thousand such severe censurers were never

greater fcasts than Priam's son of Troy. able to perform.

And again in the same elegy: () Since Scotish blood disculourd Flodeo field.

Those: large green courts, where we were wont to The battle was fought at Bramston, near Floden With eyes cast up unto the Maidens Tower (rove, hill, bring a part of the Cheviot, a mountain that With easy sighs, such as men draw in love. exceedeth all the mountains in the North of and again in the same : England for highness ; in which the wilful perjury The stately seats, the ladies bright of hue, of James V. was punished from Heaven by the earl The dances short, long tales of sweet delight. of Surrey, being left by king Henry VIII. (then in

And for the pleasantness of the place, these Prance before Turwin) for the defence of his

verses of his may testify, in the same elegy before realm.

cited : () Nor beauteous Stanhope, whom all tongues The secret groves which we have made resound, To be the glory, &c.

[report With silver drops the meads yet spread for ruth. of the beauty of that lady he himself testifies, (o) As goodly flow'rs on Thamesis do grow, &c. in an elegy which he writ of her, refusing to dance with him, which he seemeth to allegorize under of Thames, being so oft remember'd by me before

I had thought in this place not to bave spoken a lion and wolf. And of himself he saith:

in sundry places on this occasion : but thinking of A lion saw I late, as white as snow.

that excellent epigram, which I judge either to be

done by the said earl or sir Francis Brian, for the Airs to asswage the bloody soldier's mind, worthiness thereof I will here insert : which, as it Poor women, we are naturally kind. seems to me, was compiled at the author's being Perhaps you'll think, that I these terms enforce, in Spain.

For that in court this kindness is of course :

Or that it is that honey-steeped gall, Tagus, farewel, which westward with thy streams We oft are said to bait our loves withal ; Turn'st up the grains of gold, already try'd; That in one eye we carry strong desire, For I with spur and sail go seek the Thames,

In th' other drops, which quickly quench that fire.
Against the Sun that shows his wealthy pride, Ah! what so false can envy speak of us,
And to the town that Brutus sought by dreams,

But it shall find some vainly credulous?
Like bended Moon that leans her lusty side, I do not so, and to add proof thereto,
To seek my country now, for whom I live; I love in faith, in faith, sweet lord, I do:
O mighty Jove, for this the winds me give! Nor let the envy of envenom'd tongues,

Which still is grounded on poor ladies' wrongs,

Thy noble breast disasterly possess, THE LADY GERALDINE TO HENRY By any doubt to make my love the less.

My house from Florence I do not pretend, HOWARD, EARL OF SURREY.

Nor from those Geralds claim I to descend ; Such greeting as the noble Surrey sends,

Nor hold those honours insufficient are, The like to thee thy Geraldine commends; That I receive from Desmond, or Kildare : A maiden's thoughts do check my trembling hand, Nor better air will ever boast to breathe, On other terms or compliments to stand,

Than that of Lemster, Munster, or of Meath : Which might my speech be as my heart affords) Nor crave I other foreign far allies, Should come attired in far richer words :

(") Than Windsor's, or Fitz-Gerald's families : But all is one, my faith as firm shall prove, It is enough to leave upto my heirs, As ber's that makes the greatest show of love. If they but please t acknowledge me for theirss

In Cupid's school I never read those books, To what place ever did the court remove, Whose lectures oft we practise in our looks, But that the house gives matter to my love? Nor ever did suspicious rival eye

At Windsor still I see thee sit, and walk, Yet lie in wait my favours to espy ;

There mount thy courser, there devise, there talk. My virgin thoughts are innocent and meek, The robes, the garter, and the state of kings, As the chaste blushes sitting on my cheek:

Into my thoughts thy hoped greatness brings: As in a fever I do shiver yet,

None-such, the name imports (methinks) so much, Since first my pen was to the paper set.

None such as it, nor as my lord, none such: If I do err, you know my sex is weak,

In Hampton's great magnificence I find Fear proves a fault where maids are forc'd to speak. The lively image of thy princely mind : Do I not ill? Ah, soothe me not herein;

Fair Richmond's tow'rs like goodly trophies stand, O, if I do, reprore me of my sin !

Rear'd by the power of thy victorious hand :
Chide me in faith, or if my fault you hide, White-hall's triumphing galleries are yet
My tongue will teach myself, myself to chide. Adoru'd with rich devices of thy wit:
Nay, noble Surrey, blot it, if thou wilt,

In Greenwich still, as in a glass, I view,
Then too much boldness should return my guilt : Where last thou bad'st thy Geraldine adieu.
For that should be ev'n from ourselves conceal'd, With ev'ry little perling breath that blows,
Which is disclos'd, if to our thoughts reveal'd; How are my thoughts confus'd with joys and
For the least motion, more the smallest breath,

woes! That may impeach our modesty, is death. As through a gate, so through my longing cars

The page that brought thy letters to my hand, Pass to my heart whole multitudes of fears. (Methinks) should marvel at my strange deinand: 0! in a map that I might see thee show For till he blush'd, I did not yet espy

The place where now in danger thou dost go! The nakedness of my immodesty,

Whilst we discourse, to travel with our eye Which in my face he greater might have seen, Romania, Tuscan, and fair Lombardy ; Bat that my fan I quickly put between ;

Or with thy pen exactly to set down Yet scarcely that my inward guilt could hide, The model of that temple, or that town: " Fear seeing all, fears it of all is spy'd.”

And to relate at large where thou hast been, Like to a taper lately burning bright,

As there, and there, and what thou there hast seen; But wanting matter to maintain his light,

Expressing in a figure, by thy hand, The blaze ascending, forced by the smoke, How Naples lies, how Florence fair doth stand : Living by that which seeks the same to choke; Or as the Grecian's finger dipp'd in wine, The flanie still hanging in the air, doth burn, Drawing a river in a little line, Until drawn down, it back again return : (closeth, And with a drop, a gulf to figure out, Then clear, then dim, then spreadeth, and then To model Venice moated round about; Now gelteth strength, and now his brightness Then adding more to counterfeit a sea, As well the best-discerning eye may doubt, (loseth; And draw the front of stately Genoa. Whether it be yet in, or whether out:

These from thy lips were like harmonious tones, Thus in my cheek my sundry passions showid, Which now do sound like mandrakes' dreadful Now ashy pale, and now again it glow'd.

groans.

[skill, If in your verse there be a pow'r to move,

Some travel hence, t'enrich their minds with It's you alone, who are the cause I love,

Leave here their good, and bring home others' ill; It's you bewitch my bosom by mine ear;

Which seem to like all countries but their own, Vnto that end I did not place you there :

Affecting most, where they the least are knows :

Their leg, their thigh, their back, their neck, their our vulgar monuments for the founders and As they had been in sev'ral countries bred; [head, tinishers thereof, than to meddle with matter noIn their attire, their gesture, and their gait, thing near the purpose. As for the family of the Found in each one, all Italianate.

Fitzgeralds, of whence this lady was lineally dea; So well in all deformity in fashion,

scended, the original was English, though the Borrowing a limb of ev'ry sev'ral nation;

branches did spread themselves into distant places, And nothing more than England hold in scorn, and names nothing consonant, as in former times So live as strangers whereas they were born. it was usual to denominate themselves of their But thy return in this I do not read,

manors, or fore-names, as may partly appear in Thou art a perfect gentleman indeed :

that which ensueth ; the light whereof proceeded O God forbid that Howard's noble line,

from my learned and very worthy friend, Mr. From ancient virtue should so far decline!

Francis Thinn. Walter of Windsor, the son of The Muses' train (whereof yourself are chief) Oterus, had to issue William, of whom Henry, Only to me participate their grief:

now lord Windsor, is descended ; and Robert of To soothe their hunours, I do lend them ears. Windsor, of whom Robert, the now earl of Essex, He gives a poet, that his verses hears."

and Gerald of Windsor, his third son, who mar. Till thy return, by hope they only live;

ried the daughter of Rees, the great prince of Yet had they all, they all away would give : Wales, of whom came Nesta, paramour to Henry The world and they so ill according be,

the first: which Gerald had issue Maurice FitzThat wealth and poets never can agree.

gerald, ancestor to Thomas Fitzmaurice, justice. Few live in court that of their good have care, of Ireland, buried at Trayly; leaving issue John, The Muses' friends are every-where so rare. his eldest son, first earl of Kildare, ancestor to

Some praise thy worth, (that it did never know) Geraldine, and Maurice, his second son, first earl Only because the better sort do so,

of Desinond. Whose judgment never further doth extend,

(?) To raise the mount where Surrey's tow'rs must Than it doth please the greatest to commend;

stand, So great an ill upon desert doth chance, When it doth pass by beastly ignorance.

Alluding to the sumptuous house which was Why art thou slack, whilst no man puts bis hand

afterward built by him upon Leonard's-hill, right (9) To raise the mount where Surrey's towers must

against Norwich ; which, in the rebellion of Nor. stand?

folk under Ket, in king Edward the Sixth's time, Or who the groundsil of that work doth lay,

was much defaced by that impure rabhle. BeWhilst like a wand'rer thou abroad dost stray,

twixt the hill and the city, as Alexander Nevel

describes it, the river of Yarmouth runs, having Clipp'd in the arms of some lascivious damne, When thou should'st rear an llion to thy name?

West and south thereof a wood, and a little vil. When shall the Muses by fair Norwich dwell,

lage called Thorpe ; and on the north, the pasTo be the city of the learned well?

tures of Mousholl, which contain about six miles Or Phobus' altars there with incense heap'd,

in length and hreadth. So that besides the stately As once in Cyrrha, or in Thebe kept?

greatness of Mount-Surrey, which was the house's Or when shall that fair hoof-plough'd spring distil name, the prospect and site thereof was passing From great Mount-Surrey, out of Leonard's-hill? pleasant and commodious; and no where else dia Till thou return, the court I will exchange

that increasing evil of the Norfolk fury unkennel For soine poor cottage, or some country grange,

itself then, but there, as it were for a manifest

token of their intent' to debase all high things, Where to our distaves, as we sit and spio,

and to profane all holy.
My maid and I will tell what things have been.
Our lutes unstrung shall hang upon the wall, (") Like arras-work, or such like imag'ry.
Our lessons serve to wrap our tow withal,

Such was he whorn Juvenal taxeth in this man-
And pass the night, whiles winter-tales we tell,
Of many things, that long ago befell:

-Truncoque simillimus Herme Or tune such homely carrols as were sung

Nullo quippe alio vincis discrimine, quam quod In country sport, when we ourselves were young; Illi marmoreum caput est, tua vivit imago. In pretty riddles to bewray our loves,

Seeming to be born for nothing else but apparel, In questions, purpose, or in drawing glores.

and the outward appearance, entitled compleThe noblest spirits, to virtue most inclin'd,

inent: with whom the ridiculous fable of the Ape These here in court thy greatest want do find :

in Æsop sortoth fitly; who coming into a carver's Others there be, on which we feed our eye,

house, and viewing many marble works, took up (') Like arras-work, or such like inag'ry :

the head of a man very cunningly wrought: who Many of us desire queen Cath'rine's state,

greatly in praising did seem to pity it, that hav. But very few her virtues imitate.

ing so comely an outside, it had nothing within ; Then, as Ulysses' wife, write I to thee,

like empty figures, walk and talk in every place : Make no reply, but come thyself to me.

at whom noble Geraldine modestly glanceth. ANNOTATIONS OF THE CHRONICLE HISTORY. () Than Windsor's or Fitzgerald's families.

THE LADY JANE GRAY TO THE LORD

GILFORD DUDLEY. The cost of many kings, which from time to time have adorned the castle at Windsor with their princely maguificence, hath made it more noble

THE ARGUMENT. tban that it need to be spoken of now, as though Edward the Sixth, his timeless life bereft, obscure, and I hold it more meet to refer you to (Though doubtfully) yet his dominion left

ner:

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