Familiar with the story, familiar also with the poetic strains to which the
monarch's passion gave birth, Surrey could not help comparing his own
fate with that of the illustri6us captive who had visited the spot before
him. Full of such thoughts, he pensively tracked the narrow path
winding between the grassy banks of the fosse--now casting up his
eyes to the keep--now looking towards the arbour, and wishing that he
had been favoured with such visitings as lightened the captivity of the
Scottish king. At last, he sought the bower--a charming little nest of
green leaves and roses, sheltering a bench which seemed only
contrived for lovers--and taking out his tablets, began to trace within
them some stanzas of that exquisite poem which has linked his name
for ever with the Round Tower. Thus occupied, the time stole on
insensibly, and he was not aware that he had over-stayed the limits
allowed him, till he was aroused by the voice of the officer, who came
to summon him back to his prison.
"You will be removed to your old lodging, in the Round Tower, to-
morrow night, my lord," said the officer.
"For what reason?" demanded the earl, as he followed his conductor up
the steep side of the mound.
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