But if it be false, sir Aldingar,

[As God nowe grant it bee!

Thy body, I sweare by the holye rood,]

Shall hang on the gallows tree.

[He brought our king to the queenes chambèr,

And opend to him the dore.]

A lodlye1 love, king Harry says,

For our queene dame Élinore!

40

If thou were a man, as thou art none,

45

[Here on my sword thoust dye ;]

But a payre of new gallowes shall be built,
And there shalt thou hang on hye.

[Forth then hyed our king, I wysse, And an angry man was hee;

50

And soone he found queene Elinore,
That bride so bright of blee."]

Now God you save, our queene, madame,
And Christ you save and see;

Heere you have chosen a newe newe love,
And you will have none of mee.

55

If

you had chosen a right good knight, The lesse had been your shame : But you have chose you a lazar man, A lazar both blinde and lame.

60

[Therfore a fyer there shall be built,

And brent all shalt thou bee.--]

"Now out alacke!" said our comly queene, "Sir Aldingar's false to mee.

Now out alacke!" sayd our comlye queene,
[My heart with griefe will brast.3]

I had thought swevens' had never been true;
I have proved them true at last.

[1 loathsome. 2 complexion.

3 burst.

4 dreams.]

65

I dreamt in my sweven on thursday eve,
In my bed wheras I laye,

I dreamt a grype' and a grimlie beast
Had carryed my crowne awaye ;

My gorgett2 and my kirtle3 of golde,
And all my faire head-geere:

70

And he wold worrye me with his tush*
And to his nest y-beare:

75

Saving there came a litle 'gray' hawke,
A merlin him they call,

Which untill the grounde did strike the grype,

That dead he downe did fall.

Giffe I were a man, as now I am none,

A battell wold I prove,

To fight with that traitor Aldingar;
Att him I cast my glove.

80

But seeing Ime able noe battell to make,
My liege, grant me a knight

To fight with that traitor sir Aldingar,
To maintaine me in my right."

"Now forty dayes I will give thee

To seeke thee a knight therin :

If thou find not a knight in forty dayes
Thy bodye it must brenn."

[Then shee sent east, and shee sent west,
By north and south bedeene :6

But never a champion colde she find,]
Wolde fight with that knight soe keene.

85

90

95

[Now twenty dayes were spent and gone,
Noe helpe there might be had;
Many a teare shed our comelye queene
And aye her hart was sad.

Then came one of the queenes damsèlles,
And knelt upon her knee,

"Cheare up, cheare up, my gracious dame,
I trust yet helpe may be:

"And here I will make mine avowe,1

And with the same me binde;

That never will I return to thee,
Till I some helpe may finde."

Then forth she rode on a faire palfràye
Oer hill and dale about:

But never a champion colde she finde,
Wolde fighte with that knight so stout.

And nowe the daye drewe on a pace,
When our good queene must dye;
All woe-begone was that faire damsèlle,
When she found no helpe was nye.

All woe-begone was that faire damsèlle,
And the salt teares fell from her eye :]
When lo! as she rode by a rivers side,
She met with a tinye boye.

[A tinye boye she mette, God wot,
All clad in mantle of golde ;]

He seemed noe more in mans likenèsse,
Then a childe of four yeere olde.

[Why grieve you, damselle faire, he sayd,
And what doth cause you moane?
The damsell scant wolde deigne a looke,
But fast she pricked on.]

[1 vow or oath.]

I CO

105

110

115

120

125

Yet turn againe, thou faïre damsèlle,
And greete thy queene from mee :
When bale' is att hyest, boote2 is nyest,
Nowe helpe enoughe may bee.

Bid her remember what she dreamt
In her bedd, wheras shee laye;

How when the grype and the grimly beast
Wolde have carried her crowne awaye,
Even then there came the litle gray hawke,
And saved her from his clawes:
Then bidd the queene be merry at hart,
[For heaven will fende3 her cause.

Back then rode that faire damsèlle,
And her hart it lept for glee:

130

135

140

And when she told her gracious dame
A gladd woman then was shee.

[But when the appointed day was come, No helpe appeared nye:

145

Then woeful, woeful was her hart,

And the teares stood in her eye.

And nowe a fyer was built of wood;

And a stake was made of tree;

150

And now queene Elinor forth was led,
A sorrowful sight to see.

Three times the herault he waved his hand,
And three times spake on hye:

Giff any good knight will fende this dame,
Come forth, or she must dye.

No knight stood forth, no knight there came,
No helpe appeared nye:

And now the fyer was lighted up,

Queen Elinor she must dye.

155

160

3 defend.]

VIII.

CUPID'S ASSAULT: BY LORD VAUX.

HE reader will think that infant poetry grew apace between the times of Rivers and Vaux, tho' nearly contemporaries; if the following song is the composition of that Sir Nicholas (afterwards Lord) Vaux, who was the shining ornament of the court of Henry VII., and died in the year 1523 [1524, see below].

And yet to this lord it is attributed by Puttenham in his Art of Eng. Poesie, 1589, 4to., a writer commonly well informed. Take the passage at large: "In this figure [Counterfait Action] the Lord Nicholas Vaux, a noble gentleman and much delighted in vulgar making, and a man otherwise of no great learning, but having herein a marvelous facilitie, made a dittie representing the Battayle and Assault of Cupide, so excellently well, as for the gallant and propre application of his fiction in every part, I cannot choose but set downe the greatest part of his ditty, for in truth it cannot be amended. When Cupid Sealed," &c. p. 200. For a farther account of Nicholas, Lord Vaux, see Mr. Walpole's Noble Authors, vol. i.

Since this song was first printed off, reasons have occurred which incline me to believe that Lord Vaux, the poet, was not the Lord Nicholas Vaux who died in 1523, but rather a successor of his in the title. For, in the first place, it is remarkable that all the old writers mention Lord Vaux, the poet, as contemporary, or rather posterior, to Sir Thomas Wyat and the E. of Surrey, neither of which made any figure till long after the death of the first Lord Nicholas Vaux. Thus Puttenham, in his Art of English Poesie, 1589, in p. 48, having named Skelton, adds: "In the latter end of the same kings raigne [Henry VIII.] sprong up a new company of courtly Makers [Poets], of whom Sir Thomas Wyat th' elder, and Henry Earl of Surrey were the two chieftaines, who having travailed into Italie, and there tasted the sweet and stately measures and stile of the Italian poesie . . . greatly polished our rude and homely manner of vulgar poesie . . In the same time, or not long after, was the Lord Nicholas Vaux, a man of much facilitie in vulgar makings." Webbe, in his Discourse of English

备

i.e. Compositions in English.