GEORGE GASCOIGNE [Born, 1536. Died, 1577.] WAS born in 1536*, of an ancient family in Essex, was bred at Cambridge, and entered at Gray's-Inn; but being disinherited by his father for extravagance, he repaired to Holland, and obtained a commission under the Prince of Orange. A quarrel with his Colonel retarded his promotion in that service; and a circumstance occurred which had nearly cost him his life. A lady at the Hague (the town being then in the enemy's possession) sent him a letter, which was intercepted in the camp, and a report against his loyalty was made by those who had seized it. Gascoigne immediately laid the affair before the Prince, who saw through the design of his accusers, and gave him a passport for visiting his female friend. At the siege of Middleburgh he displayed so much bravery, that the Prince rewarded him with 300 gilders above his pay; but he was soon after made prisoner by the Spaniards, and having spent four months in captivity, re turned to England, and resided generally at Walthamstow. In 1575 he accompanied Queen Elizabeth in one of her stately progresses, and wrote for her amusement a mask, entitled the Princely Pleasures of Kenilworth Castle. He is generally said to have died at Stamford, in 1578; but the registers of that place have been searched in vain for his name, by the writer of an article in the Censura Literariat, who has corrected some mistakes in former accounts of him. It is not probable, however, that he lived long after 1576, as, from a manuscript in the British Museum, it appears that, in that year, he complains of his infirmities, and nothing afterwards came from his pen. Gascoigne was one of the earliest contributors to our drama. He wrote The Supposes, a comedy, translated from Ariosto, and Jocasta, a tragedy from Euripides, with some other pieces. THE ARRAIGNMENT OF A LOVER. Ar Beauty's bar as I did stand, My lord, quod I, this lady here, Quoth Beauty, No, it fitteth not' * Mr. Ellis conjectures that he was born much earlier. ↑ Cens. Lit. vol. i. p. 100. [Gascoigne died at Stamford on the 7th of October, 1577.-See COLLIER's Annals, vol. i. p. 192.] Then Craft the crier call'd a quest, Jealous the gaoler bound me fast, Down fell I then upon my knee, And though this Judge doth make such haste SONNET MADE ON ISABELLA MARKHAM, WHEN I FIRST THOUGHT HER FAIR, AS SHE STOOD AT THE PRINCESS'S WINDOW, IN GOODLY ATTIRE, AND TALKED TO DIVERS IN THE COURT-YARD. From the Nugæ Antiquæ, where the original Manuscript is said to be dated 1564. WHENCE Comes my love? O heart, disclose; The blushing cheek speaks modest mind, Sith nought doth say the heart of stone. Why thus, my love, so kind, bespeak O Venus, take thy gifts again; SIR PHILIP SYDNEY. [Born, 1554. Died, 1586.] WITHOUT enduring Lord Orford's cold-blooded depreciation of this hero, it must be owned that his writings fall short of his traditional glory; nor were his actions of the very highest importance to his country. Still there is no necessity for supposing the impression which he made upon his contemporaries to have been either illusive or exaggerated. Traits of character will distinguish great men, independently of their pens or their swords. The contemporaries of Sydney knew the man: and foreigners, no less than his own countrymen, seem to have felt, from his personal influence and conversation, an homage for him, that could only be paid to a commanding intellect guiding the principles of a noble heart. The variety of his ambition, perhaps, unfavourably divided the force of his genius; feeling that he could take different paths to reputation, he did not confine himself to one, but was successively occupied in the punetilious duties of a courtier, the studies and pursuits of a scholar and traveller, and in the life of a soldier, of which the chivalrous accomplishments could not be learnt without diligence and fatigue. All his excellence in those pursuits, and all the celebrity that would have placed him among the competitors for a crown, was gained in a life of thirty-two years. His sagacity and independence are recorded in the advice which he gave to his own sovereign. In the quarrel with Lord Oxford*, he opposed the rights of an English commoner to the prejudices of aristocracy and of royalty itself. At home he was the patron of literature. All England wore mourning for his death. Perhaps the well-known anecdote of his generosity to the dying soldier speaks more powerfully to the heart than the whole volumes of elegies, in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, that were published at his death by the universities. Mr. Ellis has exhausted the best specimens of his poetry. I have only offered a few short ones. * Vide the biographical notice of Lord Oxford. TO SLEEP. FROM THE ARCADIA COME sleep, O sleep, the certain knot of peace, Take thou of me smooth pillows, sweetest bed, SONNET. In martial sports I had my cunning tried, a Press, or crowd. When Cupid having me his slave descried SONNET. O HAPPY Thames, that didst my Stella bear, ROBERT GREENE [Born, 1560. Died, 1592.] Was born at Norwich about 1560, was educated at Cambridge, travelled in Spain and Italy, and on his return held, for about a year, the vicarage of Tollesbury, in Essex. The rest of his life seems to have been spent in London, with no other support than his pen, and in the society of men of more wit than worldly prudence. He is said to have died about 1592*, from a surfeit occasioned by pickled herrings and Rhenish wine. Greene has acknowledged, with great contrition, some of the follies of his life; but the charge of profligacy which has been so mercilessly laid on his memory must be taken with great abatement, as it was chiefly dictated by his bitterest enemy, Gabriel Harvey, who is said to have trampled on his dead body when laid in the grave. The story, it may be hoped, for the credit of human nature, is untrue; but it shows to what a pitch the malignity of Harvey was supposed to be capable of being excited. Greene is accused of having deserted an amiable wife; but his traducers rather inconsistently reproach him also with the necessity of writing for her maintenance. [* Greene died on the 3rd Sept. 1592. See his Dramatic Works, by Dyce, 2 vols 8vo. 1831.] A list of his writings, amounting to forty-five separate productions, is given in the Censura Literaria, including five plays, several amatory romances, and other pamphlets, of quaint titles. and rambling contents. The writer of that article has vindicated the personal memory of Greene with proper feeling, but he seems to overrate the importance that could have ever been attached to him as a writer. In proof of the once great popularity of Greene's writings, a passage is quoted from Ben Jonson's Every Man out of his Humour, where it is said that Saviolina uses as choice figures as any in the Arcadia, and Carlo subjoins, " or in Greene's works, whence she may steal with more security." This allusion to the facility of stealing without detection from an author surely argues the reverse of his being popular and well knownt. Greene's style is in truth most whimsical and grotesque. He lived before there was a good model of familiar prose; and his wit, like a stream that is too weak to force a channel for itself, is lost in rhapsody and diffuseness. [ See Gifford's Ben Jonson, vol. ii. p. 71.] DORASTUS ON FAWNIA. Ан, were she pitiful as she is fair, JEALOUSY. FROM TULLY'S LOVE. WHEN gods had framed the sweets of woman's face, And lockt men's looks within her golden hair, That Phoebus blush'd to see her matchless grace, And heavenly gods on earth did make repair, To quip fair Venus' overweening pride, Love's happy thoughts to jealousy were tied. Then grew a wrinkle on fair Venus' brow, CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE [Born, 1562. Died, May 1593.] WAS born in 1562, took a bachelor's degree at Cambridge, and came to London, where he was a contemporary player and dramatic writer with Shakspeare. Had he lived longer to profit by the example of Shakspeare, it is not straining conjecture to suppose, that the strong misguided energy of Marlowe would have been kindled and refined to excellence by the rivalship; but his death, at the age of thirty, is alike to be lamented for its disgracefulness and prematurity, his own sword being forced upon him, in a quarrel at a brothel. Six tragedies, however, and his numerous translations from the classics, evince that if his life was profligate, it was not idle. The bishops ordered his translations of Ovid's Love Elegies to be burnt in public for their licentiousness. If all the licentious poems of that period had been included in the martyrdom, Shakspeare's Venus and Adonis would have hardly escaped the flames. In Marlowe's tragedy of "Lust's Dominion" there is a scene of singular coincidence with an event that was 200 years after exhibited in the same country, namely Spain. A Spanish queen, instigated by an usurper, falsely proclaims her own son to be a bastard. Prince Philip is a bastard born; O give me leave to blush at mine own shame; But I for love to you-love to fair Spain, Chuse rather to rip up a queen's disgrace, Than, by concealing it, to set the crown Upon a bastard's head. Lust's Dom. Sc. iv. Act 3. Compare this avowal with the confession which Bonaparte either obtained, or pretended to have obtained, from the mother of Ferdinand VII., in 1808, and one might almost imagine that he had consulted Marlowe's tragedy. THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE. COME live with me and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove, That valleys, groves, hills, and fields, Woods or steepy mountain yields. And we will sit upon the rocks, |