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And keep the winged choristers still there,
To banish winter clean out of the year.

Or the song of the fairies:

By the moon we sport and play;
With the night begins our day:
As we dance the dew doth fall;
Trip it, little urchins all.
Lightly as the little bee,

Two by two, and three by three,

And about go we, and about go we.

The genius of Lyly was essentially lyrical. The songs in his plays seem to flow freely from nature. The following exquisite little pieces are in his drama of Alexander and Campaspe,' performed before the queen in 1584.

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GEORGE PEELE held the situation of city poet and conductor of pageants for the court. In 1584 his Arraignment of Paris,' a court show, was represented before Elizabeth. The author was then a young man, who had recently left Christ Church, Oxford. In 1593, Peele gave an example of an English historical play in his Edward

1.' The style of this piece is turgid and monotonous; yet in the following allusion to England, we see something of the high-sounding kingly speeches in Shakspeare's historical plays:

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Apostrophe to England.

Illustrious England, ancient seat of kings,
Whose chivalry hath royalised thy fame,
That, sounding bravely through terrestrial vale,
Proclaiming conquests, spoils and victories,

Rings glorious echoes through the farthest world!
What warlike nation, trained in feats of arms---
What barbarous people, stubborn, or untamed-
What climate under the meridian signs,

Or frozen zone under his brumal stage,

Erst has not quaked and trembled at the name
Of Britain and her mighty conquerors?

Her neighbour realms, as Scotland, Denmark, France,
Awed with her deeds, and jealous of her arms,
Have begged defensive and offensive leagues.
Thus Europe, rich and mighty in her kings,
Hath feared brave England, dreadful in her kings.
And now, to eternise Albion's champions,
Equivalent with Trojan's ancient fame,
Comes lovely Edward from Jerusalem,
Veering before the wind, ploughing the sea;
His stretched sails filled with the breath of men,"
That through the world admire his mauliness.
And lo, at last arrived in Dover road,

Longshank, your king, your glory, and our son,
With troops of conquering lords and warlike knights,
Like bloody crested Mars, o'erlooks his host,

Higher than all his army by the head,

Marching along as bright as Phoebus' eyes!

And we, his mother, shall behold our son,

And England's peers shall see their sovereign.

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Peele was also author of the O11 Wives' Tale,' a legendary story, part in prose, and part in blank verse, which afforded Milton a rude outline of his fable of 'Comus.' The Old Wives' Tale' was printed in 1595, as acted by the Queen's Majesty's Players.' The greatest work of Peele is his Scripture drama, the Love of King David and Fair Bethsabe,' with the tragedy of Absalom,' which Campbell terms the earliest fountain of pathos and harmony that can be traced in our dramatic poetry.' The date of representation of this drama is not known; it was not printed till 159), after Shakspeare had written some of his finest comedies, and opened up a fountain compared with which the feeble tricklings of Peele were wholly insignificant. It is not probable that Peele's play was written before 1590, as one passage in it seems a direct plagiarism from the Faery Queen' of Spenser. We may allow Peele the merit of a delicate poetical fancy and smooth musical versification. The defect of his blank verse is its want of variety: the art of varying the pauses and modulating the verse without the aid of rhyme had not yet been generally adopted. In 'David and Bethsabe,' this monotony is less observable, because his lines are smoother, and there is a play of rich and luxurious fancy in some of the scenes.

Prologue to King David and Fair Bethsabe.

Of Israel's sweetest singer now I sing,

His holy style and happy victories;

Whose Muse was dipt in that inspiring dew,
Archangels 'stilled from the breath of Jove,
Decking her temples with the glorious flowers

Heaven rained on tous of Sion and Mount Sinai.

Upon the bosom of his ivory lute

The cherubim and angels laid their breasts;
And when his consecrated fingers struck

The golden wires of his ravishing harp,

He gave alarum to the host of heaven,

That, winged with lightning, brake the clouds, and cast
Their crystal armour at his conquering feet.

Of this sweet poet, Jove's musician,

And of his beauteous son, I press to sing;
Then help, divine Adonai, to conduct,

Upon the wings of my well-tempered verse,
The hearers' minds above the towers of heaven,
Aud guide them so in this thrice haughty flight,
Their mounting feathers scorch not with the fire
That none can temper but thy holy hand:
To thee for succour flies my feeble Muse,
And at thy feet her iron pen doth use.

BETHSABE and her maid bathing. King David above. The Song.
Hot sun, cool fire, tempered with sweet air,
Black shade, fair nurse, shadow my white hair.
Shine, sun; burn, fire; breathe, air, and ease me;
B'ack shade, fair nurse, shroud me and please me;
Shadow-my sweet nurse-keep me from burning,
Make not my glad cause, cause of mourning.
Let not my beauty's fire

Inflame unstaid desire.

Nor pierce any bright eye

That wandereth lightly.

BETHSABE. Come, gentle Zephyr, tricked with those perfumes, That erst in Eden sweetened Adain's love,

And stroke my bosom with the silken fan:

This shade-sun-proof-is yet no proof for thee;

Thy body, smoother than this waveless spring,

And purer than the substance of the same,

Can creep through that his lances (1) cannot pierce
Thou and thy sister, soft and sacred Air,
Goddess of life and governess of health,

Keeps every fountain fresh and arbour sweet;

No brazen gate her passage can repulse,

Nor bushy thicket bar thy subtle breath.

Then deck thee with thy loose delightsome robes,

And on thy wings bring delicate perfumes,

To play the wanton with us through the leaves.

DAVID. What tunes, what words, what looks, what wonders pierce

My soul, incensed with a sudden fire!

What tree, what shade, what spring, what paradise,

Enjoys the beauty of so fair a dame ?

Fair Eva, placed in perfect happiness,

Lending her praise-notes to the liberal heavens,

Struck with the accents of archangels' tunes,

1 The sun's rays.

Wrought not more pleasure to her husband's thoughts
Than this fair woman's words and notes to mine.
May that sweet plain that bears her pleasant weight,
Be still enamelled with discoloured flowers;
That precious fount bear sand of purest gold;
And for the pebble, let the silver streams

That pierce earth's bowels to maintain the source,
Play upon rubies, sapphires, chrysolites;
The brim let be embraced with golden curls

Of moss, that sleeps with sound the waters make ·
For joy to feed the fount with their recourse;
Let all the grass that beautifies her bower
Bear mauna every morn, instead of dew;
Or let the dew be sweeter far than that

That hangs like chains of pearl on Hermon hill,
Or balm which tricked from old Aaron's beard.

Enter CUSAY.

See, Cusay, see the flower of Israel,

The fairest daughter that obeys the king,
In all the land the Lord subdued to me.
Fairer than Isaac's lover at the well,

Brighter than inside bark of new-hewn cedar,
Sweeter than flames of fine perfumed myrrh;
And comelier than the silver clouds that dance
On Zephyr's wings before the King of heaven.
CUSAY. Is it not Bethsabe the Hethite's wife,
Urias, now at Rabath siege with Joab?

DAV. Go now and bring her quickly to the king;
Tell her, her graces hath found grace with him.
Cus. I will, my lord.

DAV. Bright Bethsabe shall wash in David's bower
In water mixed with purest almond flower,
And bathe her beauty in the milk of kids;
Bright Bethsabe gives earth to my desires,
Verdure to earth, and to that verdure flowers,
To flowers sweet odours, and to odours wings,
That carry pleasures to the hearts of kings..
Now comes my lover tripping like the roe,
And brings my longings tangled in her hair:
To 'joy her love I'll build a kingly bower,
Beated in hearing of a hundred streams,
That, for their homage to her sovereign joys,
Shall, as the serpents fold into their nests,
In oblique turnings wind the nimble waves
About the circles of her curious walks,

And with their murmur summon easeful Sleep,
To lay his golden sceptre on her brows.

[Ext.

Charles Lamb says justly, that the line, 'seated in hearing of a hundred streams,' is the best in the above passage. It is indeed a noble poetical image.

Parable of Nathan and David.

NATHAN. Thus Nathan saith unto his lord the king:
There were two men both dwellers in one town:

The one was mighty, and exceeding rich

In oxen, sheep, and cattle of the field:

The other poor, having nor ox, nor calf,
Nor other cattle, save one little lamb,

Which he had bought, and nourished by his hand;
And it grew up, and fed with him and his,
And ate and drank as he and his were wont,
And in his bosom slept, and was to him
As was his daughter or his dearest child.-
There came a stranger to this wealthy man,
And he refused and spared to take his own,
Or of his store to dress or make his meat,

But took the poor man's sheep, partly poor man's store;
And drest it for this stranger in his house.

What, tell me, shall be done to him for this?

DAVID. Now, as the Lord doth live, this wicked man

Is judged, and shall become the child of death;

Fourfold to the poor man he shall restore,

That without mercy took his lamb away.

NATH. THOU ART THE MAN, AND THOU HAST JUDGED THYSELF.— David, thus saith the Lord thy God by me:

I thee anointed king in Israel,

And saved thee from the tyranny of Saul;

Thy master's house I gave thee to possess,

His wives unto thy bosom I did give,

And Juda aud Jerusalem withal:

And might, thou know'st, if this had been too small,

Have given thee more.

Wherefore, then, hast thou gone so far astray,

And hast done evil, and sinued in my sight?

Urias thou hast killed with the sword,

Yea, with the sword of the uncircumcised

Thou hast him slam; wherefore, from this day forth,
The sword shall never go from thee and thine:
For thou hast ta'en this Hethite's wife to thee;
Wherefore, behold, I will, saith Jacob's God,
In thine own house stir evil up to thee;
Yea, I before thy face will take thy wives,
And give them to thy neighbour to possess.
This shall be done to David in the day,
That Israel openly inay see thy shame.

DAV. Nathan, I have against the Lord, I have

Sinned, O sinned grievously, and lo!

From heaven's throne doth David throw himself,

And groan and grovel to the gates of hell.

NATH. David, stand up; thus saith the Lord by me:
David the king shall live. for he hath seen

The true repentant sorrow of thy heart;
But for thou hast in this misdeed of thine

Stirred up the enemies of Israel

To triumph and blaspheme the Lord of Hosts,
And say "He set a wicked man to reign

Over his loved people and his tribes ;'

The child shall surely die. that erst was born,

His mother's sin, his kingly father's scorn.

DAV. How just is Jacob's God in all his works!

But must it die, that David loveth so ?...

Mourn, Israel, and weep in Sion gates;

Wither, ye cedar trees of Lebanon;

Ye sprouting almonds with your flowing tops,

Droop, drown, and drench in Hebron's fearful streams!

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