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derful even in these locomotive days; he traveled over Europe, Asia, and Africa, fought against the Turks under the Persian standard, visited the Grand Llama at Thibet, and Prester John in Ethiopia, encountering danger, fatigue, and privation, not only with indifference, but pleasure. At Alcazar he lost his two faithful friends, and at their death Sebastian retired to a hermitage in the wilds of Georgia, resolving thenceforward to devote himself to prayer and penitence.

In 1597, however, a vision enforced on him that it was the Divine will that he should return to Europe, and landing in Sicily, he made himself known to one Marco Tullio Catizioni, who became his envoy to noblemen in Portugal, but Catizioni was never heard of more. The Portuguese hated the Spaniards and their rule, and were, moreover, known to cherish such fond recollections of Sebastian, that Philip, or those in his interest, would have been very unwilling that any rumor of Sebastian's being still alive should reach them; so that it is probable Catizioni, not being cautious enough in the performance of his duty, attracted the jealous and vigilant attention of the wily Spanish king, and paid the penalty of his rashness.

After this succeeded several years of impostures more or less skilful. The Portuguese were befooled in turn by Hernano, a pastry cook of Madrigalez, Pedro Xavila, a shoemaker of Fancoso, who was patronized by the confessor of Queen Catharina, a Dominican monk named Miguel de los Santos. Hernano and Xavila, together with the Dominican, were hanged by Philip's orders, and as disaffection towards Spain, and rumors of Sebastian being yet alive, gained ground, Philip caused a proclamation to be made, setting forth the undoubted death of the King Don Sebastian, and declaring that any villain who, like Hernano and Xavila, endeavored to work on the weakness of the nation by a pretence that he was the restored monarch, should meet the fate of the above-mentioned impostors, and any man who aided or abetted such imposture should be dealt with as if he were a principal offender. This proclamation, and the punishments which preceded it, were noised abroad, and the intelligence soon reached the

Jeromite monastery in the Algarves. Manoel Antonez repaired to Lisbon once more, and had audience of the CardinalViceroy Albert, who referred him to Philip. Antonez set out for the Escorial, had one audience of Philip, and was seen no more.

The disappearance of this monk, coupled with that of Catizioni, seems to have intimidated Sebastian, who made no further effort to regain his throne till Philip's death, which took place in 1599, and during this interval the unfortunate exile struggled against indigence and misery sufficient to have quelled all the energy which his former disasters had left him. Robbed and deserted by his servant, cheated and starved by those with whom he lodged, often in rags, and without proper or sufficient food, he never once faltered in his declaration that he, and none other, was Sebastian. At Philip's death he begged his way to Padua, where he lodged with a Cypriot very little richer than himself, and who earned a living by hawking pies in the streets. Some Portuguese then in Padua heard of Sebastian's arrival, and flocked to welcome him, and tender to his acceptance their homage and their worldly goods. The news was sent to Portugal, and received there with transport. Spain, alarmed at the excitement which prevailed, empowered the Spanish ambassador at Venice to demand Sebastian's expulsion from Padua.

The seignory issued an edict, commanding the Podesta of Padua to banish his luckless guest within three days. From Padua, Sebastian went to Venice, and on his arrival there he was seized by the suite of the Spanish ambassador, and would, it is probable, have been effectually silenced, did not the commotion raised by the imprisonment terrify those concerned so much that they did not dare just then to venture on any severer measures. A Dominican, named Sampayo, published a relation of the facts, which he dedicated to the potentates of Europe, and which created a violent and widespread sensation. Those in the Spanish interest averred that anything written by Sampayo must of necessity be unworthy of credence, as he was a renegade monk from Calabria, and of infamous repute. Whether this charge were true or false,

certain it is that Sampayo and his production were the topics of the day; nor did he want powerful supporters, Don Christovao of Portugal and Henri Quatre being at the head of his friends. After much contention, Sampayo was sent under safe-conduct to Lisbon, there to collect such evidence as he could as to the identity of the prisoner; he returned with a paper signed by competent persons, the apostolical notary among the number, which paper specified all Sebastian's peculiarities of person and mind. Sebastian demanded a public trial, and his right to be heard and compared with the written description. Among the marks mentioned were a large mole or wart on the instep of the right foot, the extraordinary size of the bones of the forearm, a tooth wanting in the lower jaw, and a deformity produced by an in-growing nail on the fore-finger of the left hand. In all these particulars the prisoner exactly corresponded with the description, in height also and in general appearance, but it was objected that the claimant was much darker, both in hair and complexion, than the real king, and that his face was so seamed and scarred as to be unrecognizable. To this, Sampayo and his party answered that the change was not greater than that which must inevitably arise from over twenty years spent in burning climates and from wounds received in many battles; nay, they triumphantly showed the deep cicatrice of the wound inflicted by Mustapha Pique, and adduced also, as another proof of identity, that Sebastian, when undergoing a personal examination, had asked whether Pedro Diaz, the court barber, who had extracted the tooth from his jaw, were yet living.

On these facts the Venetian senate deliberated for four days with closed doors, in the presence of the Spanish ambassador and Don Christovao de Portugal, but, though too honorable to falsify their convictions, the Pregadi were too much in fear of Philip III. to dare to declare their real opinion, so that when, at ten o'clock on the night of the fourth day of deliberation, the broken man was brought before his judges, they gave no opinion whatever as to the truth or falsehood of his claims, but merely sentenced him to depart within three days from the Vene

tian territory. Friendless, and thus hunted from place to place, the wreck of a king once again turned his back on his enemies, and, in making his escape, was seized by Spanish emissaries, and sent to the galleys.

In this degraded and miserable condition he remained for some time, but still steadily adhering to his first declaration, he aroused the sympathy of his wretched companions, as well as that of his guardians. The Duke and Duchess of Medina-Sidonia, who had entertained Sebastian with princely magnificence when he was on his way to Barbary, visited the galleys on one occasion, with the view of satisfying themselves whether the wretched slave who had occasioned so much tumult in the kingdom were Sebastian or not. They failed to recognize him, which, indeed, was not to be wondered at, and on his being pointed out to them they entered into conversation with him, and were beyond measure amazed by his recounting many trivial incidents of his visit, which were known but to themselves and Sebastian. As they talked, the duke and duchess began to see remembered traits in the seamed and scarred face before them, and all doubt was erased from their minds when Sebastian suddenly asked the duke if he yet possessed the sword presented him by the young king, then so full of high hopes and sanguine projects. The duke gave private orders to one of his attendants, who brought several swords, which the captive looked at for a moment, then saying, "You have here handsome weapons, but not that which I gave you." It was so. And three or four other swords being brought, the slave selected the right one at once. Then, turning to the duchess, he asked her if she still wore the ring he had given her, and she, imitating her husband's example, caused her jewelcase to be brought, the ring having been previously taken out. Again Sebastian looked, and again he immediately detected the absence of the jewel in question; but when the duchess caused a baguier to be brought and opened, Sebastian, without hesitation, singled out his gift from the rest. Throughout the interview he spoke to his visitors as any monarch might have done, and when the duke and duchess left, it was with the

firm belief that the prisoner was indeed the king. They tried by every means in their power to procure his liberty, or even some commutation of his sentence, but the cruel policy of Philip III. refused to hear anything which might tempt him to

mercy.

British Quarterly.

THE ELIZABETHAN POETRY.*

break up its history into eras. For the progress which we trace from age to age is not made by sudden leaps, but is gradual, and the first indications of it are often obscure and subtle; neither can we rightly understand the annals of any period without a considerable knowledge of the times which preceded it.

It is in general a mistake, and one that is very fruitful of error, to attempt rigidAfter a time, discontent, and the in- ly to define the different stages in the adclination to rebellion, coupled with ex-vancement of the human mind, and to treme deference for Sebastian, became so great in the galleys, that it was judged advisable to place the cause of contention in strict confinement in St. Lucar; but here, too, the vraisemblance of his story caused his gaoler to be more indulgent to him than was deemed fitting, and the captive was transferred to a fortress in the very heart of Castile, where, while his rigorous confinement and the harsh brutality of his keepers gave him every inducement to destroy himself, he was carefully supplied with the means of doing so, a stout cord and a dagger being the suggestive companions of his cell. He was also repeatedly urged to declare himself an impostor, and promised wealth and liberty in another land if he would but do so. All such baits he resisted, declaring, "You may tear my body in pieces, but my soul is God's; and as it must soon go to him, I will not sully it by a lie. I will never deny my name

and lineage."

After suffering all the tortures of severe captivity in Castile for a short time, the popular excitement, which had been quieted for a while, broke out afresh, and to such a height did the rebellious outcry reach, that Philip sent sudden orders for the immediate execution of the prisoner, who was hanged from the battlements of his prison. At this distance of time, and with all the precautions taken by the Spanish government to destroy all testimony which might seem to confirm the prisoner's identity with Sebastian, it is impossible to arrive at any decisive opinion on the subject; but one must inevitably pity the unfortunate who, if he were an impostor, displayed firmness, intelligence, and courage, worthy of a better cause. If indeed he were the real Sebastian, what pity could be sufficient for such a life of misery and suffering?

NEW SERIES VOL. II., No. 4.

Nevertheless, we think that without exposing ourselves to any serious mistake we may regard the Elizabethan poetry as a phenomenon isolated and independent. For from the time of Chaucer and Gower to the latter part of the reign of Henry VIII., there is an entire break in the history of English poetry, and with Surrey and Wyatt there began a new school differing from the earlier school in all its most important features. There is however so close an alliance in thought and manner between the poets of the time of Henry VIII. and those who are strictly called the Elizabethan poets, that we can not consider them apart, but must class them together by virtue of their style, though in chronological arrangement they are separated by a few

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*1. The Faerie Queen: The Shepheardes Cal

lender: Together with the other Works of Eng-
land's Arch Poet, Edm. Spenser: Collected into
H. L. for MATHEW LOWNES.
one Volume and carefully corrected. Printed by
1611.

2. England's Helicon, or the Muses Harmony. London: Printed for RICHARD MORE; and are to be sould at his Shop in S. Dunstanes Churchyard. 1614.

3. The Arte of English Poesie, Contrived into three Bookes. Lond. by RICHARD FIELD. 1589.

4. The Golden Treasury of the best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English Language. Selected and arranged with Notes. By FRANCIS TURNER PALGRAVE. Macmillan & Co. 1861.

30

the dramatists as such. Shakspeare must be classed alone. There are in his writings a breadth of range, a freedom from merely local and temporary influences, which separate them by a vast interval from all other writings of the time, and compel us to consider them apart. Most of the men whom we have named wrote during the last twenty years of the reign of Elizabeth. In the following reign there was introduced a manner less musical and more contrained, with a quaintness of thought, a display of learning, and an affectation of wit, of which the most striking examples are to be found in the verses of Donne, Herbert, and Cowley.

Attempts, more or less successful, have been made to determine the cause of the sudden appearance in England at the close of the sixteenth century of so many masters of the art of song-to discover the reason of

"Those melodious bursts, that fill The spacious times of great Elizabeth With sounds that echo still."

We do not intend to enter into the discussion of this question. But we think that in order fully to understand the Elizabethan poetry, there must be borne in mind the circumstances in which it was composed; and we propose therefore very briefly to set before our readers the state of affairs in England during the latter part of the reign of Elizabeth.

We may regard this period as an interval-a kind of breathing time, between the religious conflicts that occupied the nation during a great part of the sixteenth century, and those political contests that were in the following century yet more terribly to distract it. The Catholics were still of sufficient importance to be visited with severe penal laws. Indeed it is probable that during the greater portion of Elizabeth's reign, they were in numbers not much inferior to the Protestants. But neither by the persecutions which they endured, nor by the intrigues of seminary priests, were any considerable number of them induced to adopt the practice of treason as an article of their religion; and after the great body of the Catholic gentry had proved its loyalty in the preparations to resist the Spanish armada, the bitterness of the

antipathy that had existed between the two sects appeared to be extinguished for the time by their common patriotism. Another difference, that between the High-Church party and the Puritans, existed more or less among all classes and in all parts of the country; but it was still a difference of religious opinion only, and had not yet become synonymous with a difference of political creed that was to rend asunder families and households.

The statesmen who were the chief advisers of the Queen were confirmed in the Protestant faith, which either from political feeling or religious conviction they had adopted, by their sympathy with the Calvinists of the Low Countries and the Huguenots of France, as well as by the constant hostility to England of the Pope and the King of Spain. To foil the devices of these enemies was the constant study of Burleigh and Cecil; and the nation was kept in continual readiness to meet their attacks. We can not doubt that the continuance of this attitude of preparation, producing a sturdy relf-reliance and a strong mutual confidence, influenced very materially the character of the people. The quick sense of danger unaccompanied by any feeling of fear, the intense patriotism and enthusiastic loyalty which have been for many generations characteristic of the English nation, seem to have become more marked, if they did not arise, in the sixteenth century. This development of the national character was accompanied and in no small measure aided by the rapid growth in political importance of the middle class. By the great increase of commerce and the extravagant expenditure of the nobles, many of the merchants and shopkeepers were much enriched. The broad line of distinction between the gentleman and the citizen began to be obliterated, and marriages between persons of rank and the daughters of rich commoners became not infrequent. A further cause of the rise of the middle class is to be found in that passion for adventure which obtained for men distinguished by their daring, though of obscure families, the companionship of nobles, and in some instances the favor of the Queen herself. There had lately been opened to persons of humble

We find in the "Arte of English Poesie," supposed to have been written by George Puttenham, a list of the poets who were then held in most repute. It will be noticed that many of these are courtiers:

"Of the later sort," says Puttenham, "I think thus. That for Tragedie, the Lord of Buckhurst and Maister Edward Ferrys for such doings as I have sene of theirs do deserue the hyest price: Th' Earle of Oxford and Maister Edwardes of her Maiesties Chappell for Comedy and Enterlude. For Eglogue and pastorall Poesie, Sir Philip Sidney and Maister Challenner and that other Gentleman who wrate the late Shepheardes Callender. For dittie and amourous ode I find Sir Walter Rawleyghs vayne most loftie, insolent and passionate. Maister Edward Dyar for Elegie most sweet, solempne and of high

conceit. Gascon for a good meetre and for a learned and well corrected verse, specially in plentiful vayne. Phaer and Golding for a translation cleare and very faithfully answering their authours intent. Others have also written with much facilitie, but more commendably perchance if they had not written so much nor so popularly. But last in recitall and first in degree is the Queene our soveraigne Lady, whose learned, delicate, noble Muse, easily surmounteth all the rest that have written before her time or since, for sence, sweetness and subtillitie, be it in Ode, Elegie, Epigram, or any other kinde of Poesie Heroicke or Lyricke, wherein it shall please her Maiestie to employ her penne, enen by as much oddes as her owne excellent estate and degree exceedeth all the rest of her most

birth yet another road to eminence. Classic studies were now no longer the exclusive privilege of the clergy. The great revival of learning was late in reaching England, but its influence here was not less remarkable than it had been on the Continent. During the latter part of the sixteenth century a knowledge of the Latin writers had become an essential part of the education of a gentleman, and if this knowledge was seldom profound, it was at least employed with a greater appearance of freedom than has generally accompanied its use in later times. The Queen herself and many of the ladies of the court had made no inconsiderable progress in classic studies. All persons of rank were presumed to be well acquainted with the fables of the Roman mythology, and a continual and unrestrained allusion to these fables, which would appear to us an offensive pedantry, was to the courtiers of Elizabeth an ordinary grace of expression. The fashion was imitated by persons of lower station, and the numerous translations from Latin writers published at this time aided its diffusion. The allegorical pageants in which all classes took delight, were for the most part representations of the deities of ancient Rome. Such were the shows prepared for the entertainment of the Queen by the noblemen at whose houses she visited, and that bid her welcome at the gates of the cities which she entered in the course of her progresses. The speeches that were We have quoted this passage at length, addressed to her by wood-nymphs and because the criticisms are not only interTritons, were often written by gentle- esting as the opinion of a contemporary, men of the Court; for the practice as but are also for the most part remarkably well as the study of literature was fash- just. It will be noticed that Shakspeare, ionable, and it was the ambition of a who had probably begun to write before gentleman to excel as much in the com- 1589, is not mentioned by Puttenham. position of a sonnet, or the production It has been suggested in explanation of of an impromptu rhyme, as in the exer- this that the "Arte of Poesie" was writcises of the tilt-yard. Hence the Court, ten several years before its publication, rather than either of the Universities, a supposition which is confirmed by the became the centre of attraction to men of fact that Spenser's "Shepheardes Callenletters, and scholars and poets began to der" was published in 1579. In 1589 seek the patronage of nobles, or even to its author must have been well known as solicit the notice of the Queen. In all the friend of Sir Philip Sidney and Sir this there was doubtless combined with Walter Raleigh. In a later part of the what was favorable, much that was det-"Arte of Poesie" we are furnished with rimental to the interests of sound learn- a means of testing its author's estimate ing. How in these circumstances English literature fared we shall presently

see.

humble vassalls."

of Queen Elizabeth's skill in poetry, an estimate which we may perhaps reasonably believe to have been in some slight

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