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There sawe I Love upon the wall,
How he his banner did display: “ Alarme, alarme," he gan to call;
And bad his souldiours kepe aray.
The armes, the which that Cupide bare,
Were pearced hartes with teares besprent, In silver and sable to declare
The stedfast love he alwayes ment.
There might you se his band all drest
In colours like to white and blacke, With powder and with pelletes prest
To bring the fort to spoile and sacke.
Good-wyll, the maister of the shot,
Stode in the rampire brave and proude, For spence of pouder he spared not
“ Assault ! assault !” to crye alouce.
There might you heare the cannons rore;
Eche pece discharged a lover's loke; Which had the power to rent, and tore
In any place whereas they toke. And even with the trumpettes sowne
The scaling ladders were up set, And Beautie walked up and downe,
With bow in hand, and arrowes whet.
Then first Desire began to scale,
And shrouded him under his' targe: As one the worthiest of them all,
And aptest for to geve the charge.
And halberdes with handy strokes ;
Ver. 30, her. ed. 1557: so ed. 1585.
And, as it is the souldiers use
When shot and powder gins to want,
And pleaded up for my livès grant.
And Beauty entred with her band,
I yelded into Beauties hand.
And every souldier to retire,
Me captive bound as prisoner.
Hath served you at all assayes,
Here of the fortresse all the kayes.
At whom you shot at with your eye,
Or salve my sore, or let me die.”
*** Since the foregoing song was first printed off, reasons bave 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 Earl of Surrey, neither of whom 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 the elder, and Henry Earl of Surrey, where 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.” l_Webbe, in his Discourse of English Poetrie, 1586, ranges them in the following order,
_"The Earl of Surrey, the Lord Vaux, Norton, Bristow.” And Gascoigne, in the place quoted in this work [b. ii. no. 2), mentions Lord Vaux after Surrey.-Again, the style and measure of Lord
ii. e. Compositions in English.
Vaux's pieces seem too refined and polished for the age of Henry VII., and rather resemble the smoothness and harmony of Surrey and Wyat, than the rude metre of Skelton and Hawes: but what puts the matter out of all doubt, in the British Museum is a copy of his poem, I lothe that I did love [vid. book ii. ubi supra), with this title, “A dyttye or sonet made by the Lord Vaus, in the time of the noble Quene Marye, representing the image of Death."—Harl. MSS. No. 1703, $ 25.
It is evident, then, that Lord Vaux the poet was not he that flourished in the reign of Henry VII., but either his son, or grandson ; and yet, according to Dugdale's Baronage, the former was named Thomas, and the latter William: but this difficulty is not great, for none of the old writers mention the Christian name of the poetic Lord Vaux, except Puttenham; and it is more likely that he might be mistaken in that lord's name, than in the time in which he lived, who was so nearly his contemporary.
Thomas, Lord Vaux, of Harrowden in Northamptonshire, was summoned to parliament in 1531. When he died does not appear; but he probably lived till the latter end of Queen Mary's reign, since his son. "William was not summoned to parliament till the last year of that reign, in 1558. This lord died in 1595.-See Dugdale, vol. ii. p. 304. Upon the whole, I am inclined to believe that Lord Thomas was the poet.
2 In the Paradise of Dainty Devises, 1596, he is called simply “Lord Vaux the elder.”
Sir Aldingar. This old fabulous legend is given from the Editor's folio MS. with conjectural emendations, and the insertion of some additional stanzas to supply and complete the story.
It has been suggested to the Editor, that the author of this poem seems to have had in his eye the story of Gunhilda, who is sometimes called Eleanor, and was married to the Emperor (here called King) Henry.
OUR king he kept a false stewarde,
Sir Aldingar they him call:
Servde not in bower nor hall.
He wolde have layne by our comelye queene,
Her deere worshippe to betraye;
And evermore said him naye.
With her hee was never content,
In a fyer to have her brent.
There came a lazar to the kings gate,
A lazar both blinde and lame; He tooke the lazar upon his backe,
Him on the queenes bed has layne. “ Lye still, lazar, wheras thou lyest,
Looke thou goe not hence away;
In two howers of the day.” 1
And hyed him to our king:
Sad tydings I could bring.” “ Say on, say on, Sir Aldingar,
Say on the soothe to mee.” “ Our queene hath chosen a new, new love,
And shee will have none of thee. “ If shee had chosen a right good knight,
The lesse had beene her shame; But she hath chose her a lazar man,
A lazar both blinde and lame.” “ If this be true, thou Aldingar,
The tyding thou tellest to me,
Rich both of golde and fee.
i He probably insinuates that the king should heal him by his power of touching for the King's Evil.
“ But if it be false, Sir Aldingar, *
As God nowe grant it bee!
Shall hang on the gallows tree.”
And opend to him the dore :
“For our queene, Dame Elinore !
Here on my sword thoust dye;
And there shalt thou hang on hye.”
And an angry man was hee,
That bride so bright of blee.
And Christ you save and see!
And you will have none of mee.
The lesse had been your shame;
A lazar both blinde and lame.
And brent all shalt thou bee.”—
“Sir Aldingar's false to mee. “Now out alacke !” sayd our comlye queene,
“My heart with griefe will brast: I had thought swevens had never been true,
I have proved them true at last.
I my bed wheras I laye,
Had carryed my crowne awaye;