has enchained him. He quite reminds us of the recruit who cried from the guard-post to his captain that he had made a captive. "Bring him here then to me!" answered his chief. " I can't," was the reply, "for he won't let me."[1]
Suffolk speaks :
" Be not offended, nature's miracle,
Thou art allotted to be ta'en by me :
So doth the swan her downy cygnets save,
Keeping them prisoners underneath her wings.
Yet, if this servile usage once offend,
Go and be free again as Suffolk's friend.
[S/ie tunis away as going.
O stay ! I have no power to let her pass ;
My hand would free her, but my heart says no.
As plays the sun upon the glassy streams,
Twinkling another counterfeited beam,
So seems this gorgeous beauty to mine eyes.
Fain would I woo her, yet I dare not speak :
I'll call for pen and ink, and write my mind :
Fie, de la Poole ! disable not thyself ;
Ha-t not a tongue ? is she not here thy prisoner ?
Wilt thou be daunted at a woman's sight ?
Ay ; beauty's princely majesty is such,
Confounds the tongue, and makes the senses rough.
Mar. Say, Earl of Suffolk, if thy name be so,
What ransom must I pay before I pass ?
For, I perceive, I am thy prisoner.
- ↑ As usually told, the soldier cried that he had caught a Tartar. "Bring him in then." "He winna let me go!" This is the usually accredited sense of the saying, "He has caught a Tartar."—Translator.
