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Less to esteem them than the common sort,
Without regard what inward doth resort.
I cannot crouch nor kneel to such a wrong,
That are as wolves these silly lambs among;
And suffer nought,—nor smart without complaint,—
I cannot speak and look like as a saint,
Use wiles for wit, and make deceit a pleasure,
Call craft counsel, for lucre still to paint;
With innocent blood to feed myself fat,
And do most hurt where that most help I offer.
I am not he that can allow the state
That with his death did scape out of the gate
And would not live where liberty was lost,
I am not he, such eloquence to boast,
[To] praise Sir Thopas for a noble tale, And scorn the story that the knight told :*
Praise him for counsel that is drunk of ale:
Grin when he laughs that beareth all the sway, Frown when he frowns, and groan when he is pale:
On others lust to hang both night and day :—
My wit is naught, I cannot learn the way;
Affirm that Favell hath a goodly grace
Zeal of justice ; and change in time and place;
Call him pitiful, —and him true and plain,
• Two of the Canterbury Tales.
Say he is rude thai cannot lie and feign,
The letcher a lover, and tyranny To be the right of a prince's reign,—
I cannot, I,—no, no,—it will not be.
This is the cause that I could never yet
Hang on their sleeves that weigh (as thou may'st see)
A chip of chance more than a pound of wit:
And in foul weather at my book to sit,
In frost and snow, then with my bow to stalk:
No man doth mark whereso I ride or go;
And of these news I feel nor weal nor wo,
No force for that, for it is order'd so,
That I may leap both hedge and dike full wed.
I am not now in France to judge the wine,
Nor yet in Spain, where one must him incline,
I meddle not with wits that be so fine,
Nor Flanders cheer lets not my sight to deem
Of black and white, nor takes my wits away
Nor I am not, where truth is given in prey
A common practice, used night and day—
Among the Muses, where I read and rhyme ;—
Where if thou list, mine own John Poins, to come, Thou shalt be judge how I do spend my time.
• So ed. I.—Ed 1567, " prison."
Henry Howard,earl of Surrey, son and grandson to two dukes of Norfolk, lords treasurers, was born in 15*0. While a boy, he resided at Windsor, in the quality of companion to Henry Fitzroy, duke of Richmond, a natural son of Henry VIII. and, like Surrey, a youth of the highest expectations. They became warm friends; studied together at Wolsey's college, in Oxford; travelled into France; and at Calais received Henry, on his visit to Francis I. Richmond was, soon after, married to the lady Mary Howard, Surrey's sister; but died in 1536, at the early age of 17
Surrey was at once the hero of romance, and the practical soldier. His superiority in the accomplishments of chivalry was proved at a tournament held by him at Florence, in honour of his Geraldine, and at another exhibited at Windsor, in the king's presence, in 1540. He served with great distinction in his father's army, which marched against the Scots in 1542, and contributed, by his skill and bravery, to the memorable victory of Flodden Field. In 1544, he commanded, as field-marshal,the English army in the expedition against Boulogne. His talents,his popularity, his high spirit, a suspicion of his intending to marry the princess Mary, with a view of obtaining the crown, and, above all, a treasured hate in the king's breast against the relations of Catharine Howard, procured his condemnation for a most frivolous offence, and he was beheaded in 1547.
It was reserved for the ingenuity of Mr. Walpole to furnish a clue to the maze in which the fair Geraldine, the object of his romantic passion, had so long remained concealed, and