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esteemed a most noted poet. In 1577 he took his Bachelor's degree, and was made Master of Arts in 1579, after which he went up to London, and became a writer for the theatre. There is reason to believe that he appeared occasionally on the stage; but he certainly did not follow it as a profession. His intimate associates were Nash, Marlowe, and Greene, the most profligate men of genius of the time: and in the latter part of his life he was acquainted with Shakespeare, Jonson, and their contemporaries, who were coming in at the close of his Peele appears to have abandoned himself to the worst excesses of the town, and to have shortened his life by dissipation, if a coarse allusion to him by Francis Meres may be credited. The date of his death is unknown; but as Mere's reference to it was printed in 1598, it must have taken place in or before that year. He was one of the earliest of our poets who imparted form and power to the drama, was one of the contributors to the Phoenix Nest, and, in addition to numerous small pieces and Pageants, wrote several plays, only five of which have come down to us. Of the remainder, few, probably, were printed, and these are supposed to have been destroyed in the fire of London in 1666.

Peele holds a place amongst the dramatic poets of that period, described by Gifford as the time when ‘the chaos of ignorance was breaking up,' second only to Marlowe. If his versification has not the pomp and grandeur of the ‘ 'mighty line,' of his great rival, it is sweeter and more melodious; and none of his contemporaries exhibit so much tenderness or so luxuriant a fancy. Charles Lamb dismisses his David and Bethsabe as 'stuff;' but this hasty judgment is balanced by the panegyric of Campbell, who speaks of it as 'the earliest fountain of pathos and harmony that can be traced in our dramatic poetry.' What Hazlitt says of the literature of the time generally applies to Peele in common with the rest: ‘I would not be understood to say, that the age of Elizabeth was all gold without any alloy. There was both gold and lead in it, and often in one and the same writer.' There are both in Peele; but the gold was of the finest quality.]

THE ARRAIGNMENT

OF PARIS. 1584.

En.

FAIR

ENONE AND PARIS.

AIR and fair, and twice so fair,
As fair as any may be;

The fairest shepherd on our green,
A love for any lady.

Par. Fair and fair and twice so fair,
As fair as any may be:

Thy love is fair for thee alone,
And for no other lady.

En. My love is fair, my love is gay,

As fresh as bin the flowers in May,
And of my love my roundelay,

My merry, merry, merry roundelay,
Concludes with Cupid's curse,

They that do change old love for new, Pray gods, they change for worse!

Ambo, simul. They that do change, &c.

En. Fair and fair, &c.

Par. Fair and fair, &c.

En. My love can pipe, my love can sing,
My love can many a pretty thing,
And of his lovely praises ring
My merry, merry roundelays,
Amen to Cupid's curse,

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They that do change, &c.

THE SONG OF THE ENAMOURED SHEPHERD.

GENTLE Love, ungentle for thy deed,
Thou makest my heart

A bloody mark

With piercing shot to bleed.

Shoot soft, sweet Love, for fear thou shoot amiss, For fear too keen

Thy arrows been,

And hit the heart where my belovèd is.

Too fair that fortune were, nor never I
Shall be so blest,
Among the rest,

That Love shall seize on her by sympathy.

Then since with Love my prayers bear no boot,
This doth remain

To ease my pain,

I take the wound, and die at Venus' foot.

Μι

ANONE'S COMPLAINT.

ELPOMENE, the muse of tragic songs,

With mournful tunes, in stole of dismal hue,

Assist a silly nymph to wail her woe,

And leave thy lusty company behind.

Thou luckless wreath! becomes not me to wear
The poplar tree, for triumph of my love:
Then as my joy, my pride of love, is left,
Be thou unclothed of thy lovely green;

And in thy leaves my fortunes written be,
And them some gentle wind let blow abroad,
That all the world may see how false of love
False Paris hath to his Enone been.

COLIN'S DIRGE.

WELLADAY, welladay, poor Colin, thou art going

to the ground,

The love whom Thestylis hath slain,
Hard heart, fair face, fraught with disdain,

Disdain in love a deadly wound.

Wound her, sweet love, so deep again,

That she may feel the dying pain

Of this unhappy shepherd's swain,

And die for love as Colin died, as Colin died.

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HIS golden locks time hath to silver turned;

O time too swift, O swiftness never ceasing! His youth 'gainst time and age hath ever spurned, But spurned in vain; youth waneth by encreasing. Beauty, strength, youth, are flowers but fading seen. Duty, faith, love, are roots, and ever green.

His helmet now shall make a hive for bees,

And lovers' songs be turned to holy psalms;
A man at arms must now serve on his knees,
And feed on prayers, which are old age's alms:
But though from court to cottage he depart,
His saint is sure of his unspotted heart.

And when he saddest sits in homely cell,

He'll teach his swains this carol for a song: 'Blessed be the hearts that wish my Sovereign well, Cursed be the souls that think her any wrong.' Goddess, allow this aged man his right,

To be your beadsman now that was your knight.

* A description of a Triumph at Tilt, held before Queen Elizabeth in the Tilt Yard at Westminster in 1590. This very rare poem was reprinted by Mr. Dyce, in his edition of Peele's works, from a copy in the University of Edinburgh, amongst the books presented by Drummond. The copy was slightly mutilated, but the deficiencies were supplied from a MS. found in an old house in Oxfordshire. The above song, or sonnet, taken from Polyhymnia, is extracted by Ellis, in his Specimens from Segur's Honour, Military and Civil (1602), and is also given by Beloe, from the Garrick collection in the British Museum. Mr. Dyce throws a doubt upon Beloe's veracity, by stating that he searched in vain for a copy of Polyhymnia in that collection; but Beloe's version was evidently derived, notwithstanding, from the original work, and not from Segur's reprint, which exhibits several variations.

THE HUNTING OF CUPID.* 1591.

QUESTION AND ANSWER.

MELAMPUS, when will Love be void of fears?

When Jealousy hath neither eyes nor ears. Melampus, when will Love be thoroughly shrieved? When it is hard to speak, and not believed. Melampus, when is Love most malcontent? When lovers range, and bear their bows unbent. Melampus, tell me when Love takes least harm? When swains' sweet pipes are puffed, and trulls are

warm.

Melampus, tell me when is love best fed?

When it has sucked the sweet that ease hath bred.
Melampus, when is time in love ill spent?
When it earns meed and yet receives no rent.
Melampus, when is time well spent in Love?
When deeds win meed, and words love works do prove.

CUPID'S ARROWS.

T Venus' entreaty for Cupid her son

AT

These arrows by Vulcan were cunningly done.

The first is Love, as here you may behold,

His feathers, head, and body, are of gold:
The second shaft is Hate, a foe to love,
And bitter are his torments for to prove:

The third is Hope, from whence our comfort springs,
His feathers [they] are pulled from Fortune's wings:
Fourth Jealousy in basest minds doth dwell,

This metal Vulcan's Cyclops sent from hell.

* No copy of this work, apparently a sort of dramatic pastoral, is known to be in existence. These three songs, two of which are familiar to the readers of the Helicon and the Parnassus, and a scanty fragment of the dialogue, were preserved by Drummond in his commonplace book, and have been included by Mr. Dyce in his edition of Peele's works.

THE DRAMATISTS.

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