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diff --git a/old/10602-0.txt b/old/10602-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fe27576 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10602-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,14078 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Poetical Works of Edmund Spenser, Volume 5, by Edmund Spenser + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: The Poetical Works of Edmund Spenser, Volume 5 + +Author: Edmund Spenser + +Release Date: January 1, 2004 [eBook #10602] +[Most recently updated: November 13, 2022] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +Produced by: Joshua Hutchinson, Carol David and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDMUND SPENSER, VOLUME 5 *** + + + + +THE +POETICAL WORKS +OF +EDMUND SPENSER + +VOLUME V. + +M.DCCC.LX. + + + + +CONTENTS + +OF THE FIFTH VOLUME. + + + MISCELLANIES. + Complaints + The Ruines of Time + The Teares of the Muses + Virgils Gnat + Prosopopoia: or Mother Hubberds Tale + Ruines of Rome: by Bellay + Muiopotmos: or the Fate of the Butterflie + Visions of the Worlds Vanitie + The Visions of Bellay + The Visions of Petrarch + Daphnaida + Amoretti + Epithalamion + Prothalamion + Fowre Hymnes + Epigrams + Sonnets + + APPENDIX. + I. Variations from the Original Editions + II. Two Letters from Spenser to Harvey + III. Index of Proper Names + + +MISCELLANIES. + +COMPLAINTS. + +CONTAINING SUNDRIE SMALL POEMES OF THE WORLDS VANITIE: + +WHEREOF THE NEXT PAGE MAKETH MENTION. + +BY ED. SP. + + + + +LONDON. +IMPRINTED FOR WILLIAM PONSONBIE, +DWELLING IN PAULES CHURCHYARD +AT THE SIGNE OF THE +BISHOPS HEAD. +1591. + + +A NOTE OF THE SUNDRIE POEMES CONTAINED IN THIS VOLUME. + + +1. The Ruines of Time. + +2. The Teares of the Muses. + +3. Virgils Gnat. + +4. Prosopopoia, or Mother Hubberds Tale. + +5. The Ruines of Rome: by Bellay. + +6. Muiopotmos, or The Tale of the Butterflie. + +7. Visions of the Worlds Vanitie. + +8. Bellayes Visions. + +9. Petrarches Visions. + + +THE PRINTER TO THE GENTLE READER. + + +Since my late setting foorth of the Faerie Queene, finding that it hath +found a favourable passage amongst you, I have sithence endevoured by +all good meanes, (for the better encrease and accomplishment of your +delights,) to get into my handes such smale poemes of the same Authors +as I heard were disperst abroad in sundrie hands, and not easie to bee +come by by himselfe; some of them having bene diverslie imbeziled and +purloyned from him, since his departure over sea. Of the which I have +by good meanes gathered togeather these fewe parcels present, which I +have caused to bee imprinted altogeather, for that they al seeme to +containe like matter of argument in them, being all complaints and +meditations of the worlds vanitie, verie grave and profitable. To which +effect I understand that he besides wrote sundrie others, namelie: +_Ecclesiastes_ and _Canticum Canticorum_ translated, _A Senights +Slumber, The Hell of Lovers, his Purgatorie_, being all dedicated to +ladies, so as it may seeme he ment them all to one volume: besides some +other pamphlets looselie scattered abroad; as _The Dying Pellican, The +Howers of the Lord, The Sacrifice of a Sinner, The Seven Psalmes_, &c., +which, when I can either by himselfe or otherwise attaine too, I meane +likewise for your favour sake to set foorth. In the meane time, praying +you gentlie to accept of these, and graciouslie to entertaine the new +Poet*, I take leave. + +[* Spenser had printed nothing with his name before the Faerie +Queene.—Ponsonby’s account of the way in which this volume was +collected is rather loose. The Ruins of Time and The Tears of the Muses +were certainly written shortly before they were published, and there +can be equally little doubt that Mother Hubberd’s Tale was retouched +about the same time. C.] + + + + +THE RUINES OF TIME. + +DEDICATED + +TO THE RIGHT NOBLE AND BEAUTIFULL LADIE, + +THE LA: MARIE, + +COUNTESSE OF PEMEBROOKE. + + +Most honourable and bountifull Ladie, there bee long sithens deepe +sowed in my brest the seede of most entire love and humble affection +unto that most brave knight, your noble brother deceased; which, taking +roote, began in his life time somewhat to bud forth, and to shew +themselves to him, as then in the weakenes of their first spring; and +would in their riper strength (had it pleased High God till then to +drawe out his daies) spired forth fruit of more perfection. But since +God hath disdeigned the world of that most noble spirit which was the +hope of all learned men, and the patron of my young Muses, togeather +with him both their hope of anie further fruit was cut off, and also +the tender delight of those their first blossoms nipped and quite dead. +Yet, sithens my late cumming into England, some frends of mine, which +might much prevaile with me, and indeede commaund me, knowing with howe +straight bandes of duetie I was tied to him, as also bound unto that +noble house, of which the chiefs hope then rested in him, have sought +to revive them by upbraiding me, for that I have not shewed anie +thankefull remembrance towards him or any of them, but suffer their +names to sleep in silence and forgetfulnesse. Whome chieflie to +satisfie, or els to avoide that fowle blot of unthankefulnesse, I have +conceived this small Poeme, intituled by a generall name of _The Worlds +Ruines;_ yet speciallie intended to the renowming of that noble race +from which both you and he sprong, and to the eternizing of some of the +chiefe of them late deceased. The which I dedicate unto your La. as +whome it most speciallie concerneth, and to whome I acknowledge my +selfe bounden by manie singular favours and great graces. I pray for +your honourable happinesse, and so humblie kisse your handes. + + +Your Ladiships ever humblie at commaund, + + +E.S. + + + + +THE RUINES OF TIME. + +It chaunced me on* day beside the shore +Of silver streaming Thamesis to bee, +Nigh where the goodly Verlame stood of yore, +Of which there now remaines no memorie, +Nor anie little moniment to see, 5 +By which the travailer that fares that way +_This once was she_ may warned be to say. + [* _On_, one.] + + +There, on the other side, I did behold +A Woman sitting sorrowfullie wailing, +Rending her yeolow locks, like wyrie golde 10 +About her shoulders careleslie downe trailing, +And streames of teares from her faire eyes forth railing*: +In her right hand a broken rod she held, +Which towards heaven shee seemd on high to weld, + [* _Railing_, flowing.] + + +Whether she were one of that rivers nymphes, 15 +Which did the losse of some dere Love lament, +I doubt; or one of those three fatall impes +Which draw the dayes of men forth in extent; +Or th’auncient genius of that citie brent*; +But, seeing her so piteouslie perplexed, 20 +I, to her calling, askt what her so vexed. + [* _Brent_, burnt.] + + +“Ah! what delight,” quoth she, “in earthlie thing, +Or comfort can I, wretched creature, have? +Whose happines the heavens envying, +From highest staire to lowest step me drave, 25 +And have in mine owne bowels made my grave, +That of all nations now I am forlorne*, +The worlds sad spectacle, and Fortunes scorne.” + [* _Forlorne_, forsaken.] + + +Much was I mooved at her piteous plaint, +And felt my heart nigh riven in my brest 30 +With tender ruth to see her sore constraint; +That, shedding teares, a while I still did rest, +And after did her name of her request. +“Name have I none,” quoth she, “nor anie being, +Bereft of both by Fates uniust decreeing. 35 + + +“I was that citie which the garland wore +Of Britaines pride, delivered unto me +By Romane victors which it wonne of yore; +Though nought at all but ruines now I bee, +And lye in mine owne ashes, as ye see, 40 +VERLAME I was; what bootes it that I was, +Sith now I am but weedes and wastfull gras? + + +“O vaine worlds glorie, and unstedfast state +Of all that lives on face of sinfull earth! +Which, from their first untill their utmost date, 45 +Tast no one hower of happines or merth; +But like as at the ingate* of their berth +They crying creep out of their mothers woomb, +So wailing backe go to their wofull toomb. + [* _Ingate_, entrance, beginning.] + + +“Why then dooth flesh, a bubble-glas of breath, 50 +Hunt after honour and advauncement vaine, +And reare a trophee for devouring death +With so great labour and long-lasting paine, +As if his daies for ever should remaine? +Sith all that in this world is great or gaie 55 +Doth as a vapour vanish and decaie. + + +“Looke backe, who list, unto the former ages, +And call to count what is of them become. +Where be those learned wits and antique sages, +Which of all wisedome knew the perfect somme? 60 +Where those great warriors, which did overcome +The world with conquest of their might and maine, +And made one meare* of th’earth and of their raine? + [* _Meare_, boundary.] + + +“What nowe is of th’Assyrian Lyonesse, +Of whome no footing now on earth appeares? 65 +What of the Persian Beares outragiousnesse, +Whose memorie is quite worne out with yeares? +Who of the Grecian Libbard* now ought heares, +That over-ran the East with greedie powre, +And left his whelps their kingdomes to devoure? 70 + [* _Libbard_, leopard] + + +“And where is that same great seven-headded beast, +That made all nations vassals of her pride, +To fall before her feete at her beheast, +And in the necke of all the world did ride? +Where doth she all that wondrous welth nowe hide? 75 +With her own weight downe pressed now shee lies, +And by her heaps her hugenesse testifies. + + +“O Rome, thy ruine I lament and rue, +And in thy fall my fatall overthrowe, +That whilom was, whilst heavens with equall vewe 80 +Deignd to behold me and their gifts bestowe, +The picture of thy pride in pompous shew: +And of the whole world as thou wast the empresse, +So I of this small Northerne world was princesse. + + +“To tell the beawtie of my buildings fayre, 85 +Adornd with purest golde and precious stone, +To tell my riches and endowments rare, +That by my foes are now all spent and gone, +To tell my forces, matchable to none, +Were but lost labour that few would beleeve, 90 +And with rehearsing would me more agreeve. + + +“High towers, faire temples, goodly theaters, +Strong walls, rich porches, princelie pallaces, +Large streetes, brave houses, sacred sepulchers, +Sure gates, sweete gardens, stately galleries 95 +Wrought with faire pillours and fine imageries,— +All those, O pitie! now are turnd to dust, +And overgrowen with blacke oblivions rust. + + +“Theretoo, for warlike power and peoples store +In Britannie was none to match with mee, 100 +That manie often did abie full sore: +Ne Troynovant*, though elder sister shee, +With my great forces might compared bee; +That stout Pendragon to his perill felt, +Who in a siege seaven yeres about me dwelt. 105 + [* _Troynovant_, London] + + +“But long ere this, Bunduca, Britonnesse, +Her mightie hoast against my bulwarkes brought; +Bunduca! that victorious conqueresse, +That, lifting up her brave heroick thought +Bove womens weaknes, with the Romanes fought, 110 +Fought, and in field against them thrice prevailed: +Yet was she foyld, when as she me assailed. + + +“And though at last by force I conquered were +Of hardie Saxons, and became their thrall, +Yet was I with much bloodshed bought full deere, 115 +And prizde with slaughter of their generall, +The moniment of whose sad funerall, +For wonder of the world, long in me lasted, +But now to nought, through spoyle of time, is wasted. + + +“Wasted it is, as if it never were; 120 +And all the rest that me so honord made, +And of the world admired ev’rie where, +Is turnd to smoake that doth to nothing fade; +And of that brightnes now appeares no shade, +But greislie shades, such as doo haunt in hell 125 +With fearfull fiends that in deep darknes dwell. + + +“Where my high steeples whilom usde to stand, +On which the lordly faulcon wont to towre, +There now is but an heap of lyme and sand +For the shriche-owle to build her balefull bowre: +130 +And where the nightingale wont forth to powre +Her restles plaints, to comfort wakefull lovers, +There now haunt yelling mewes and whining plovers. + + +“And where the christall Thamis wont to slide +In silver channell downe along the lee, 135 +About whose flowrie bankes on either side +A thousand nymphes, with mirthfull iollitee, +Were wont to play, from all annoyance free, +There now no rivers course is to be seene, +But moorish fennes, and marshes ever greene. 140 + + +“Seemes that that gentle river, for great griefe +Of my mishaps which oft I to him plained, +Or for to shunne the horrible mischiefe +With which he saw my cruell foes me pained, +And his pure streames with guiltles blood oft stained, +From my unhappie neighborhood farre fled, 145 +And his sweete waters away with him led. + + +“There also where the winged ships were seene +In liquid waves to cut their fomie waie, +And thousand fishers numbred to have been, 150 +In that wide lake looking for plenteous praie +Of fish, which they with baits usde to betraie, +Is now no lake, nor anie fishers store, +Nor ever ship shall saile there anie more. + + +“They all are gone, and all with them is gone! 155 +Ne ought to me remaines, but to lament +My long decay, which no man els doth mone, +And mourne my fall with dolefull dreriment: +Yet it is comfort in great languishment, +To be bemoned with compassion kinde, 160 +And mitigates the anguish of the minde. + + +“But me no man bewaileth, but in game +Ne sheddeth teares from lamentable eie; +Nor anie lives that mentioneth my name +To be remembred of posteritie, 165 +Save one, that maugre Fortunes iniurie, +And Times decay, and Envies cruell tort*, +Hath writ my record in true-seeming sort. + [* _Tort_, wrong] + + +“CAMBDEN! the nourice* of antiquitie, +And lanterne unto late succeding age 170 +To see the light of simple veritie +Buried in ruines, through the great outrage +Of her owne people led with warlike rage, +CAMBDEN! though Time all moniments obscure, +Yet thy iust labours ever shall endure. 175 + [* _Nourice_, nurse] + + +“But whie, unhappie wight! doo I thus crie, +And grieve that my remembrance quite is raced* +Out of the knowledge of posteritie, +And all my antique moniments defaced? +Sith I doo dailie see things highest placed, 180 +So soone as Fates their vitall thred have shorne, +Forgotten quite as they were never borne + [* _Raced_, razed.] + + +“It is not long, since these two eyes beheld +A mightie Prince*, of most renowmed race, +Whom England high in count of honour held, 185 +And greatest ones did sue to game his grace; +Of greatest ones he, greatest in his place, +Sate in the bosom of his Soveraine, +And _Right and Loyall_** did his word maintaine. + [* I. e. the Earl of Leicester.] + [** Leicester’s motto.] + + +“I saw him die, I saw him die as one 190 +Of the meane people, and brought foorth on beare; +I saw him die, and no man left to mone +His dolefull fate that late him loved deare; +Scarse anie left to close his eylids neare; +Scarse anie left upon his lips to laie 195 +The sacred sod, or requiem to saie. + + +“O trustlesse state of miserable men, +That builde your blis on hope of earthly thing, +And vainly thinke your selves halfe happie then, +When painted faces with smooth flattering 200 +Doo fawne on you, and your wide praises sing; +And, when the courting masker louteth* lowe, +Him true in heart and trustie to you trow! + [* _Louteth_, boweth.] + + +“All is but fained, and with oaker* dide, +That everie shower will wash and wipe away; 205 +All things doo change that under heaven abide, +And after death all friendship doth decaie. +Therefore, what ever man bearst worldlie sway, +Living, on God and on thy selfe relie; +For, when thou diest, all shall with thee die. 210 + [* _Oaker_, ochre, paint.] + + +“He now is dead, and all is with him dead, +Save what in heavens storehouse he uplaid: +His hope is faild, and come to passe his dread, +And evill men (now dead) his deeds upbraid: +Spite bites the dead, that living never baid. 215 +He now is gone, the whiles the foxe is crept +Into the hole the which the badger swept. + + +“He now is dead, and all his glorie gone, +And all his greatnes vapoured to nought, +That as a glasse upon the water shone, 220 +Which vanisht quite so soone as it was sought. +His name is worne alreadie out of thought, +Ne anie poet seekes him to revive; +Yet manie poets honourd him alive. + + +“Ne doth his Colin, carelesse Colin Cloute, 225 +Care now his idle bagpipe up to raise, +Ne tell his sorrow to the listning rout +Of shepherd groomes, which wont his songs to praise: +Praise who so list, yet I will him dispraise, +Untill he quite* him of this guiltie blame. 230 +Wake, shepheards boy, at length awake for shame! + [* _Quite_, acquit.] + + +“And who so els did goodnes by him game, +And who so els his bounteous minde did trie*, +Whether he shepheard be, or shepheards swaine, +(For manie did, which doo it now denie,) 235 +Awake, and to his song a part applie: +And I, the whilest you mourne for his decease, +Will with my mourning plaints your plaint increase. + [* _Trie_, experience.] + + +“He dyde, and after him his brother dyde, +His brother prince, his brother noble peere, 240 +That whilste he lived was of none envyde, +And dead is now, as living, counted deare; +Deare unto all that true affection beare, +But unto thee most deare, O dearest Dame, +His noble spouse and paragon of fame. 245 + + +“He, whilest he lived, happie was through thee, +And, being dead, is happie now much more; +Living, that lincked chaunst with thee to bee, +And dead, because him dead thou dost adore +As living, and thy lost deare love deplore. 250 +So whilst that thou, faire flower of chastitie, +Dost live, by thee thy lord shall never die. + + +“Thy lord shall never die, the whiles this verse +Shall live, and surely it shall live for ever: +For ever it shall live, and shall rehearse 255 +His worthie praise, and vertues dying never, +Though death his soule doo from his bodie sever: +And thou thy selfe herein shalt also live; +Such grace the heavens doo to my verses give. + + +“Ne shall his sister, ne thy father, die; 260 +Thy father, that good earle of rare renowne, +And noble patrone of weake povertie; +Whose great good deeds, in countrey and in towne. +Have purchast him in heaven an happie crowne: +Where he now liveth in eternall blis, 265 +And left his sonne t’ensue those steps of his. + + +“He, noble bud, his grandsires livelie hayre, +Under the shadow of thy countenaunce +Now ginnes to shoote up fast, and flourish fayre +In learned artes, and goodlie governaunce, 270 +That him to highest honour shall advaunce. +Brave impe* of Bedford, grow apace in bountie, +And count of wisedome more than of thy countie! + [* _Impe_, graft, scion.] + + +“Ne may I let thy husbands sister die, +That goodly ladie, sith she eke did spring 275 +Out of this stocke and famous familie +Whose praises I to future age doo sing; +And foorth out of her happie womb did bring +The sacred brood of learning and all honour; +In whom the heavens powrde all their gifts upon her. + + +“Most gentle spirite breathed from above, 281 +Out of the bosome of the Makers blis, +In whom all bountie and all vertuous love +Appeared in their native propertis, +And did enrich that noble breast of his 285 +With treasure passing all this worldës worth, +Worthie of heaven it selfe, which brought it forth: + + +“His blessed spirite, full of power divine +And influence of all celestiall grace, +Loathing this sinfull earth and earthlie slime, 290 +Fled backe too soonc unto his native place; +Too soone for all that did his love embrace, +Too soone for all this wretched world, whom he +Robd of all right and true nobilitie. + + +“Yet, ere his happie soule to heaven went 295 +Out of this fleshlie goale, he did devise +Unto his heavenlie Maker to present +His bodie, as a spotles sacrifise, +And chose that guiltie hands of enemies +Should powre forth th’offring of his guiltles blood: +So life exchanging for his countries good. 300 + + +“O noble spirite, live there ever blessed, +The worlds late wonder, and the heavens new ioy; +Live ever there, and leave me here distressed +With mortall cares and cumbrous worlds anoy! 305 +But, where thou dost that happines enioy, +Bid me, O bid me quicklie come to thee, +That happie there I maie thee alwaies see! + + +“Yet, whilest the Fates affoord me vitall breath, +I will it spend in speaking of thy praise, 310 +And sing to thee, untill that timelie death +By heavens doome doo ende my earthlie daies: +Thereto doo thou my humble spirite raise, +And into me that sacred breath inspire, +Which thou there breathest perfect and entire. 315 + + +“Then will I sing; but who can better sing +Than thine owne sister, peerles ladie bright, +Which to thee sings with deep harts sorrowing, +Sorrowing tempered with deare delight, +That her to heare I feele my feeble spright 320 +Robbed of sense, and ravished with ioy; +O sad ioy, made of mourning and anoy! + + +“Yet will I sing; but who can better sing +Than thou thyselfe thine owne selfes valiance, +That, whilest thou livedst, madest the forrests ring, + 325 +And fields resownd, and flockes to leap and daunce, +And shepheards leave their lambs unto mischaunce, +To runne thy shrill Arcadian pipe to heare: +O happie were those dayes, thrice happie were! + + +“But now more happie thou, and wretched wee, 330 +Which want the wonted sweetnes of thy voice, +Whiles thou now in Elisian fields so free, +With Orpheus, and with Linus, and the choice +Of all that ever did in rimes reioyce, +Conversest, and doost heare their heavenlie layes, +335 +And they heare thine, and thine doo better praise. + + +“So there thou livest, singing evermore, +And here thou livest, being ever song +Of us, which living loved thee afore, +And now thee worship mongst that blessed throng 340 +Of heavenlie poets and heroës strong. +So thou both here and there immortall art, +And everie where through excellent desart. + + +“But such as neither of themselves can sing, +Nor yet are sung of others for reward, 345 +Die in obscure oblivion, as the thing +Which never was; ne ever with regard +Their names shall of the later age be heard, +But shall in rustic darknes ever lie, +Unles they mentiond be with infamie. 350 + + +“What booteth it to have been rich alive? +What to be great? what to be gracious? +When after death no token doth survive +Of former being in this mortall hous, +But sleepes in dust dead and inglorious, 355 +Like beast, whose breath but in his nostrels is, +And hath no hope of happinesse or blis. + + +“How manie great ones may remembred be, +Which in their daies most famouslie did florish, +Of whome no word we heare, nor signe now see, 360 +But as things wipt out with a sponge to perishe, +Because they living cared not to cherishe +No gentle wits, through pride or covetize, +Which might their names for ever memorize! + + +“Provide therefore, ye Princes, whilst ye live, 365 +That of the Muses ye may friended bee, +Which unto men eternitie do give; +For they be daughters of Dame Memorie +And love, the father of Eternitie, +And do those men in golden thrones repose, 370 +Whose merits they to glorifie do chose. + + +“The seven-fold yron gates of grislie Hell, +And horrid house of sad Proserpina, +They able are with power of mightie spell +To breake, and thence the soules to bring awaie 375 +Out of dread darkenesse to eternall day, +And them immortall make which els would die +In foule forgetfulnesse, and nameles lie. + + +“So whilome raised they the puissant brood +Of golden-girt Alcmena, for great merite, 380 +Out of the dust to which the Oetaean wood +Had him consum’d, and spent his vitall spirite, +To highest heaven, where now he doth inherite +All happinesse in Hebes silver bowre, +Chosen to be her dearest paramoure. 385 + + +“So raisde they eke faire Ledaes warlick twinnes. +And interchanged life unto them lent, +That, when th’one diës, th’other then beginnes +To shew in heaven his brightnes orient; +And they, for pittie of the sad wayment*, 390 +Which Orpheus for Eurydice did make, +Her back againe to life sent for his sake. + [* _Wayment_, lament.] + + +“So happie are they, and so fortunate, +Whom the Pierian sacred sisters love, +That freed from bands of impacable** fate, 395 +And power of death, they live for aye above, +Where mortall wreakes their blis may not remove: +But with the gods, for former verities meede, +On nectar and ambrosia do feede. + [* _Impacable_, unappeasable.] + + +“For deeds doe die, how ever noblie donne, 400 +And thoughts of men do as themselves decay; +But wise wordes taught in numbers for to runne, +Recorded by the Muses, live for ay; +Ne may with storming showers be washt away, +Ne bitter-breathing windes with harmfull blast, 405 +Nor age, nor envie, shall them ever wast. + + +“In vaine doo earthly princes then, in vaine, +Seeke with pyramides to heaven aspired, +Or huge colosses built with costlie paine, +Or brasen pillours never to be fired, 410 +Or shrines made of the mettall most desired, +To make their memories for ever live: +For how can mortall immortalitie give? + + +“Such one Mausolus made, the worlds great wonder, +But now no remnant doth thereof remaine: 415 +Such one Marcellus, but was torne with thunder: +Such one Lisippus, but is worne with raine: +Such one King Edmond, but was rent for gaine. +All such vaine moniments of earthlie masse, +Devour’d of Time, in time to nought doo passe. 420 + + +“But Fame with golden wings aloft doth flie, +Above the reach of ruinous decay, +And with brave plumes doth beate the azure skie, +Admir’d of base-borne men from farre away: +Then who so will with vertuous deeds assay 425 +To mount to heaven, on Pegasus must ride, +And with sweete Poets verse be glorifide. + + +“For not to have been dipt in Lethe lake, +Could save the sonne of Thetis from to die; +But that blinde bard did him immortall make 430 +With verses dipt in deaw of Castalie: +Which made the Easterne conquerour to crie, +O fortunate yong man! whose vertue found +So brave a trompe thy noble acts to sound. + + +“Therefore in this halfe happie I doo read* 435 +Good Melibae, that hath a poet got +To sing his living praises being dead, +Deserving never here to be forgot, +In spight of envie, that his deeds would spot: +Since whose decease, learning lies unregarded, 440 +And men of armes doo wander unrewarded. + [* _Read_, consider] + + +“Those two be those two great calamities, +That long agoe did grieve the noble spright +Of Salomon with great indignities, +Who whilome was alive the wisest wight: 445 +But now his wisedome is disprooved quite, +For he that now welds* all things at his will +Scorns th’one and th’other in his deeper skill. + [* _Welds_, wields] + + +“O griefe of griefes! O gall of all good heartes! +To see that vertue should dispised bee 450 +Of him that first was raisde for vertuous parts, +And now, broad spreading like an aged tree, +Lets none shoot up that nigh him planted bee. +O let the man of whom the Muse is scorned, +Nor alive nor dead, be of the Muse adorned! 455 + + +“O vile worlds trust! that with such vaine illusion +Hath so wise men bewitcht and overkest*, +That they see not the way of their confusion: +O vainesse to be added to the rest +That do my soule with inward griefe infest! 460 +Let them behold the piteous fall of mee, +And in my case their owne ensample see. + [* _Overkest_, overcast.] + + +“And who so els that sits in highest seate +Of this worlds glorie, worshipped of all, +Ne feareth change of time, nor fortunes threats, 465 +Let him behold the horror of my fall, +And his owne end unto remembrance call; +That of like ruine he may warned bee, +And in himselfe be moov’d to pittie mee.” + + +Thus having ended all her piteous plaint, 470 +With dolefull shrikes shee vanished away, +That I, through inward sorrowe wexen faint, +And all astonished with deepe dismay +For her departure, had no word to say; +But sate long time in sencelesse sad affright, 475 +Looking still, if I might of her have sight. + + +Which when I missed, having looked long, +My thought returned greeved home againe, +Renewing her complaint with passion strong, +For ruth of that same womans piteous paine; 480 +Whose wordes recording in my troubled braine, +I felt such anguish wound my feeble heart, +That frosen horror ran through everie part. + + +So inlie greeving in my groning brest, +And deepelie muzing at her doubtfull speach, 485 +Whose meaning much I labored foorth to wreste, +Being above my slender reasons reach, +At length, by demonstration me to teach, +Before mine eies strange sights presented were, +Like tragicke pageants seeming to appeare. 490 + +I. + +I saw an Image, all of massie gold, +Placed on high upon an altare faire, +That all which did the same from farre beholde +Might worship it, and fall on lowest staire. +Not that great idoll might with this compaire, 495 +To which th’Assyrian tyrant would have made +The holie brethren falslie to have praid. + + +But th’altare on the which this image staid +Was (O great pitie!) built of brickle* clay, +That shortly the foundation decaid, 500 +With showres of heaven and tempests worne away; +Then downe it fell, and low in ashes lay, +Scorned of everie one which by it went; +That I, it seing, dearelie did lament. + [* _Brickle_, brittle.] + +II. + + +Next unto this a statelie Towre appeared, 505 +Built all of richest stone that might bee found, +And nigh unto the heavens in height upreared, +But placed on a plot of sandie ground: +Not that great towre which is so much renownd +For tongues confusion in Holie Writ, 510 +King Ninus worke, might be compar’d to it. + + +But, O vaine labours of terrestriall wit, +That buildes so stronglie on so frayle a soyle, +As with each storme does fall away and flit, +And gives the fruit of all your travailes toyle 515 +To be the pray of Tyme, and Fortunes spoyle, +I saw this towre fall sodainlie to dust, +That nigh with griefe thereof my heart was brust. + +III. + + +Then did I see a pleasant Paradize, +Full of sweete flowres and daintiest delights, 520 +Such as on earth man could not more devize, +With pleasures choyce to feed his cheereful sprights: +Not that which Merlin by his magicke slights +Made for the gentle Squire, to entertaine +His fayre Belphoebe, could this gardine staine. 525 + + +But O short pleasure bought with lasting paine! +Why will hereafter anie flesh delight +In earthlie blis, and ioy in pleasures vaine? +Since that I sawe this gardine wasted quite, +That where it was scarce seemed anie sight; 530 +That I, which once that beautie did beholde, +Could not from teares my melting eyes with-holde. + +IV. + + +Soone after this a Giaunt came in place, +Of wondrous power, and of exceeding stature, +That none durst vewe the horror of his face; 535 +Yet was he milde of speach, and meeke of nature. +Not he which in despight of his Creatour +With railing tearmes defied the Iewish hoast, +Might with this mightie one in hugenes boast; + + +For from the one he could to th’other coast 540 +Stretch his strong thighes, and th’ocean overstride, +And reatch his hand into his enemies hoast. +But see the end of pompe and fleshlie pride! +One of his feete unwares from him did slide, +That downe hee fell into the deepe abisse, 545 +Where drownd with him is all his earthlie blisse. + +V. + + +Then did I see a Bridge, made all of golde, +Over the sea from one to other side, +Withouten prop or pillour it t’upholde, +But like the coloured rainbowe arched wide: 550 +Not that great arche which Traian edifide, +To be a wonder to all age ensuing, +Was matchable to this in equall vewing. + + +But ah! what bootes it to see earthlie thing +In glorie or in greatnes to excell, 555 +Sith time doth greatest things to ruine bring? +This goodlie bridge, one foote not fastned well, +Gan faile, and all the rest downe shortlie fell, +Ne of so brave a building ought remained, +That griefe thereof my spirite greatly pained. 560 + +VI. + + +I saw two Beares, as white as anie milke, +Lying together in a mightie cave, +Of milde aspect, and haire as soft as silke, +That salvage nature seemed not to have, +Nor after greedie spoyle of blood to crave: 565 +Two fairer beasts might not elswhere be found, +Although the compast* world were sought around. + [* _Compast_, rounded.] + + +But what can long abide above this ground +In state of blis, or stedfast happinesse? +The cave in which these beares lay sleeping sound +Was but earth, and with her owne weightinesse 571 +Upon them fell, and did unwares oppresse; +That, for great sorrow of their sudden fate, +Henceforth all worlds felicitie I hate. + + +Much was I troubled in my heavie spright, 575 +At sight of these sad spectacles forepast, +That all my senses were bereaved quight, +And I in minde remained sore agast, +Distraught twixt feare and pitie; when at last +I heard a voyce which loudly to me called, 580 +That with the suddein shrill I was appalled. + + +“Behold,” said it, “and by ensample see, +That all is vanitie and griefe of minde, +Ne other comfort in this world can be, +But hope of heaven, and heart to God inclinde; 585 +For all the rest must needs be left behinde.” +With that it bad me to the other side +To cast mine eye, where other sights I spide. + +I. + + +Upon that famous rivers further shore, +There stood a snowie Swan, of heavenly hiew 590 +And gentle kinde as ever fowle afore; +A fairer one in all the goodlie criew +Of white Strimonian brood might no man view: +There he most sweetly sung the prophecie +Of his owne death in dolefull elegie. 595 + + +At last, when all his mourning melodie +He ended had, that both the shores resounded, +Feeling the fit that him forewarnd to die, +With loftie flight above the earth he bounded, +And out of sight to highest heaven mounted, 600 +Where now he is become an heavenly signe; +There now the ioy is his, here sorrow mine. + +II. + + +Whilest thus I looked, loe! adowne the lee* +I sawe an Harpe, stroong all with silver twyne, +And made of golde and costlie yvorie, 605 +Swimming, that whilome seemed to have been +The harpe on which Dan Orpheus was seene +Wylde beasts and forrests after him to lead, +But was th’harpe of Philisides** now dead. + [* _Lee_, surface of the stream.] + [** _Phili-sid-es_, Sir Philip Sidney] + + +At length out of the river it was reard, 610 +And borne above the cloudes to be divin’d, +Whilst all the way most heavenly noyse was heard +Of the strings, stirred with the warbling wind, +That wrought both ioy and sorrow in my mind: +So now in heaven a signe it doth appeare, 615 +The Harpe well knowne beside the Northern Beare. + +III. + + +Soone after this I saw on th’other side +A curious Coffer made of heben* wood, +That in it did most precious treasure hide, +Exceeding all this baser worldës good: 620 +Yet through the overflowing of the flood +It almost drowned was and done to nought, +That sight thereof much griev’d my pensive thought. + [* _Heben_, ebony.] + + +At length, when most in perill it was brought, +Two angels, downe descending with swift flight, 625 +Out of the swelling streame it lightly caught, +And twixt their blessed armes it carried quight +Above the reach of anie living sight: +So now it is transform’d into that starre, +In which all heavenly treasures locked are. 630 + +IV. + + +Looking aside I saw a stately Bed, +Adorned all with costly cloth of gold, +That might for anie princes couche be red*, +And deckt with daintie flowres, as if it shold +Be for some bride, her ioyous night to hold: 635 +Therein a goodly virgine sleeping lay; +A fairer wight saw never summers day. + [* _Red_, taken.] + + +I heard a voyce that called farre away, +And her awaking bad her quickly dight, +For lo! her bridegrome was in readie ray 640 +To come to her, and seeke her loves delight: +With that she started up with cherefull sight, +When suddeinly both bed and all was gone, +And I in languor left there all alone. + +V. + + +Still as I gazed, I beheld where stood 645 +A Knight all arm’d, upon a winged steed, +The same that was bred of Medusaes blood, +On which Dan Perseus, borne of heavenly seed, +The faire Andromeda from perill freed: +Full mortally this knight ywounded was, 650 +That streames of blood foorth flowed on the gras. + + +Yet was he deckt (small ioy to him, alas!) +With manie garlands for his victories, +And with rich spoyles, which late he did purchas +Through brave atcheivements from his enemies: 655 +Fainting at last through long infirmities, +He smote his steed, that straight to heaven him bore, +And left me here his losse for to deplore. + +VI. + + +Lastly, I saw an Arke of purest golde +Upon a brazen pillour standing hie, 660 +Which th’ashes seem’d of some great prince to hold, +Enclosde therein for endles memorie +Of him whom all the world did glorifie: +Seemed the heavens with the earth did disagree, +Whether should of those ashes keeper bee. 665 + + +At last me seem’d wing-footed Mercurie, +From heaven descending to appease their strife, +The arke did beare with him above the skie, +And to those ashes gave a second life, +To live in heaven, where happines is rife: 670 +At which the earth did grieve exceedingly, +And I for dole was almost like to die. + + +_L’Envoy._ + + +Immortall spirite of Philisides, +Which now art made the heavens ornament, +That whilome wast the worldës chiefst riches. 675 +Give leave to him that lov’de thee to lament +His losse by lacke of thee to heaven hent*, +And with last duties of this broken verse, +Broken with sighes, to decke thy sable herse! + [* _Hent_, taken away.] + + +And ye, faire Ladie! th’honor of your daies 680 +And glorie of the world, your high thoughts scorne, +Vouchsafe this moniment of his last praise +With some few silver dropping teares t’adorne; +And as ye be of heavenlie off-spring borne, +So unto heaven let your high minde aspire, 685 +And loath this drosse of sinfull worlds desire. + + +FOOTNOTES: + + +Ver. 8.—_Verlame._ Veralam, or Verulamium, was a British and Roman +town, near the present city of St. Alban’s in Hertfordshire. Some +remains of its walls are still perceptible. H. + + +Ver. 64.—_Th’Assyrian Lyonesse._ These types of +nations are taken from the seventh chapter of the book of Daniel. H. + + +Ver. 190.—_I saw him die_. Leicester died at Cornbury Lodge, in +Oxfordshire. Todd suggests that he may have fallen sick at St. Alban’s, +and that Spenser, hearing the report in Ireland, may havo concluded +without inquiry that this was the place of his subsequent death, C. + + +Ver. 225.—_Colin Cloute._ Spenser himself, who had been befriended by +Leicester. H. + + +Ver. 239.—_His brother._ Ambrose Dudley, Earl of Warwick. + + +Ver. 245.—_His noble spouse._ Anne, the eldest daughter of Francis +Russell, Earl of Bedford. + + +Ver. 260.—_His sister_. Lady Mary Sidney. + + +Ver. 261.—_That good earle_, &c. This Earl of Bedford died in 1585.— +TODD. + + +Ver. 267.—_He, noble bud_, &c. Edward Russell, grandson of Francis Earl +of Bedford, succeeded in the earldom, his father, Francis, having been +slain by the Scots.—OLDYS. + + +Ver. 275.—_That goodly ladie_, &c. Lady Mary Sidney, +mother of Sir +Philip Sidney and the Countess of Pembroke. + + +Ver. 281.—_Most gentle spirite._ Sir Philip Sidney. + + +Ver. 317.—_Thine owne sister,_ &c. The Countess of Pembroke, to whom +this poem is dedicated. “The Dolefull Lay of Clorinda” (Vol. IV. p. +426) appears to have been written by her. + + +Ver. 436.—_Good Melibae_. Sir Francis Walsingham, who died April +6,1590. The _poet_ is Thomas Watson.—OLDYS. + + +Ver. 447-455.—These lines are aimed at Burghley, who was said to have +opposed the Queen’s intended bounty to the poet. C. + + +Ver 491.—These allegorical representations of the vanity of exalted +position, stately buildings, earthly pleasures, bodily strength, and +works of beauty and magnificence, admit of an easy application to the +splendid career of the Earl of Leicester,—his favor and influence with +the Queen, his enlargement of Kenilworth, his princely style of living, +and particularly (IV.) his military command in the Low Countries. The +sixth of these “tragick pageants” strongly confirms this +interpretation. The two bears are Robert and Ambrose Dudley. While +Leicester was lieutenant in the Netherlands, he was in the habit of +using the Warwick crest (a bear and ragged staff) instead of his own. +Naunton, in his Fragmenta Regalia, calls him _Ursa Major_. C. + + +Ver. 497.—_The holie brethren_, &c. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. +Daniel, ch. iii. C. + + +Ver. 582-586.—A paraphrase of Sir Philip’s last words to his brother. +“Above all, govern your will and affection by the will and word of your +Creator, in me beholding the end of this world with all her vanities.” +This is pointed out by Zouch, Life of Sidney, p. 263. C. + + +Ver 590.—This second series of pageants is applicable exclusively to +Sir Philip Sidney. The meaning of the third and fourth is hard to make +out; but the third seems to have reference to the collection of the +scattered sheets of the Arcadia, and the publication of this work by +the Countess of Pembroke, after it had been condemned to destruction by +the author. The fourth may indeed signify nothing more than Lady +Sidney’s bereavement by her husband’s death; but this interpretation +seems too literal for a professed allegory. The sixth obviously alludes +to the splendid obsequies to Sidney, performed at the Queen’s expense, +and to the competition of the States of Holland for the honor of +burying his body. C. + + +L’ENVOY: _L’Envoy_ was a sort of postscript _sent with_ poetical +compositions, and serving either to recommend them to the attention of +some particular person, or to enforce what we call the moral of them.— +TYRWHITT. + + + + +THE TEARES OF THE MUSES. + +BY ED. SP. + + +LONDON. +IMPRINTED FOR WILLIAM PONSONBIE, +DWELLING IN PAULES CHURCHYARD +AT THE SIGNE OF THE +BISHOPS HEAD. +1591. + + +TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE + +THE LADIE STRANGE. + + +Most brave and noble Ladie, the things that make ye so much honored of +the world as ye bee are such as (without my simple lines testimonie) +are throughlie knowen to all men; namely, your excellent beautie, your +vertuous behavior, and your noble match with that most honourable Lord, +the verie paterne of right nobilitie. But the causes for which ye have +thus deserved of me to be honoured, (if honour it be at all,) are, both +your particular bounties, and also some private bands of affinitie*, +which it hath pleased your Ladiship to acknowledge. Of which whenas I +found my selfe in no part worthie, I devised this last slender meanes, +both to intimate my humble affection to your Ladiship, and also to make +the same universallie knowen to the world; that by honouring you they +might know me, and by knowing me they might honor you. Vouchsafe, noble +Lady, to accept this simple remembrance, though not worthy of your +self, yet such as perhaps by good acceptance thereof ye may hereafter +cull out a more meet and memorable evidence of your own excellent +deserts. So recommending the same to your Ladiships good liking, I +humbly take leave. + + +Your La: humbly ever. + +ED. SP. + + +[Footnote: Lady Strange was Alice Spencer, sixth daughter of Sir John +Spencer of Althorpe. C.] + + +THE TEARES OF THE MUSES. + +Rehearse to me, ye sacred Sisters nine, +The golden brood of great Apolloes wit, +Those piteous plaints and sorowfull sad tine +Which late ye powred forth as ye did sit +Beside the silver springs of Helicone, 5 +Making your musick of hart-breaking mone! + + +For since the time that Phoebus foolish sonne, +Ythundered, through loves avengefull wrath, +For traversing the charret of the Sunne +Beyond the compasse of his pointed path, 10 +Of you, his mournfull sisters, was lamented, +Such mournfull tunes were never since invented. + + +Nor since that faire Calliope did lose +Her loved twinnes, the dearlings of her ioy, +Her Palici, whom her unkindly foes, 15 +The Fatall Sisters, did for spight destroy, +Whom all the Muses did bewaile long space, +Was ever heard such wayling in this place. + + +For all their groves, which with the heavenly noyses +Of their sweete instruments were wont to sound, 20 +And th’hollow hills, from which their silver voyces +Were wont redoubled echoes to rebound, +Did now rebound with nought but rufull cries, +And yelling shrieks throwne up into the skies. + + +The trembling streames which wont in chanels cleare +25 +To romble gently downe with murmur soft, +And were by them right tunefull taught to beare +A bases part amongst their consorts oft; +Now forst to overflowe with brackish teares, +With troublous noyse did dull their daintie eares. +30 + + +The ioyous Nymphes and lightfoote Faëries +Which thether came to heare their musick sweet, +And to the measure of their melodies +Did learne to move their nimble-shifting feete, +Now hearing them so heavily lament, 35 +Like heavily lamenting from them went. + + +And all that els was wont to worke delight +Through the divine infusion of their skill, +And all that els seemd faire and fresh in sight, +So made by nature for to serve their will, 40 +Was turned now to dismall heavinesse, +Was turned now to dreadfull uglinesse. + + +Ay me! what thing on earth, that all thing breeds, +Might be the cause of so impatient plight? +What furie, or what feend, with felon deeds 45 +Hath stirred up so mischievous despight? +Can griefe then enter into heavenly harts, +And pierce immortall breasts with mortall smarts? + + +Vouchsafe ye then, whom onely it concernes, +To me those secret causes to display; 50 +For none but you, or who of you it learnes, +Can rightfully aread so dolefull lay. +Begin, thou eldest sister of the crew, +And let the rest in order thee ensew. + +CLIO. + + +Heare, thou great Father of the Gods on hie, 55 +That most art dreaded for thy thunder darts; +And thou, our Syre? that raignst in Castalie +And Mount Parnasse, the god of goodly arts: +Heare, and behold the miserable state +Of us thy daughters, dolefull desolate. 60 + + +Behold the fowle reproach and open shame +The which is day by day unto us wrought +By such as hate the honour of our name, +The foes of learning and each gentle thought; +They, not contented us themselves to scorne, 65 +Doo seeke to make us of the world forlorne*. + [* Forlorne, abandoned] + + +Ne onely they that dwell in lowly dust, +The sonnes of darknes and of ignoraunce; +But they whom thou, great love, by doome uniust +Didst to the type of honour earst advaunce; 70 +They now, puft up with sdeignfull insolence, +Despise the brood of blessed Sapience. + + +The sectaries* of my celestiall skill, +That wont to be the worlds chiefe ornament, +And learned impes that wont to shoote up still, 75 +And grow to hight of kingdomes government, +They underkeep, and with their spredding armes +Doo beat their buds, that perish through their harmes. + [* _Sectaries_, followers.] + + +It most behoves the honorable race +Of mightie peeres true wisedome to sustaine, 80 +And with their noble countenaunce to grace +The learned forheads, without gifts or game: +Or rather learnd themselves behoves to bee; +That is the girlond of nobilitie. + + +But ah! all otherwise they doo esteeme 85 +Of th’heavenly gift of wisdomes influence, +And to be learned it a base thing deeme: +Base minded they that want intelligence; +For God himselfe for wisedome most is praised, +And men to God thereby are nighest raised. 90 + + +But they doo onely strive themselves to raise +Through pompous pride, and foolish vanitie; +In th’eyes of people they put all their praise, +And onely boast of armes and auncestrie: +But vertuous deeds, which did those armes first give +To their grandsyres, they care not to atchive. 96 + + +So I, that doo all noble feates professe +To register and sound in trump of gold, +Through their bad dooings, or base slothfulnesse, +Finde nothing worthie to be writ, or told: 100 +For better farre it were to hide their names, +Than telling them to blazon out their blames. + + +So shall succeeding ages have no light +Of things forepast, nor moniments of time; +And all that in this world is worthie hight 105 +Shall die in darknesse, and lie hid in slime! +Therefore I mourne with deep harts sorrowing, +Because I nothing noble have to sing. + + +With that she raynd such store of streaming teares, +That could have made a stonie heart to weep; 110 +And all her sisters rent* their golden heares, +And their faire faces with salt humour steep. +So ended shee: and then the next anew +Began her grievous plaint, as doth ensew. + [* _Rent_, rend.] + +MELPOMENE. + + +O, who shall powre into my swollen eyes 115 +A sea of teares that never may be dryde, +A brasen voice that may with shrilling cryes +Pierce the dull heavens and fill the ayër wide, +And yron sides that sighing may endure, +To waile the wretchednes of world impure! 120 + + +Ah, wretched world! the den of wickednesse, +Deformd with filth and fowle iniquitie; +Ah, wretched world! the house of heavinesse, +Fild with the wreaks of mortall miserie; +Ah, wretched world, and all that is therein! 125 +The vassals of Gods wrath, and slaves of sin. + + +Most miserable creature under sky +Man without understanding doth appeare; +For all this worlds affliction he thereby, +And fortunes freakes, is wisely taught to beare: 130 +Of wretched life the onely ioy shee is. +And th’only comfort in calamities. + + +She armes the brest with constant patience +Against the bitter throwes of dolours darts: +She solaceth with rules of sapience 135 +The gentle minds, in midst of worldlie smarts: +When he is sad, shee seeks to make him merie, +And doth refresh his sprights when they be werie. + + +But he that is of reasons skill bereft, +And wants the staffe of wisedome him to stay, 140 +Is like a ship in midst of tempest left +Withouten helme or pilot her to sway: +Full sad and dreadfull is that ships event; +So is the man that wants intendiment*. +[* _Intendiment_, understanding.] + + +Whie then doo foolish men so much despize 145 +The precious store of this celestiall riches? +Why doo they banish us, that patronize +The name of learning? Most unhappie wretches! +The which lie drowned in deep wretchednes, +Yet doo not see their owne unhappines. 150 + + +My part it is and my professed skill +The stage with tragick buskin to adorne, +And fill the scene with plaint and outcries shrill +Of wretched persons, to misfortune borne: +But none more tragick matter I can finde 155 +Than this, of men depriv’d of sense and minde. + + +For all mans life me seemes a tragedy, +Full of sad sights and sore catastrophees; +First comming to the world with weeping eye, +Where all his dayes, like dolorous trophees, 160 +Are heapt with spoyles of fortune and of feare, +And he at last laid forth on balefull beare. + + +So all with rufull spectacles is fild, +Fit for Megera or Persephone; +But I that in true tragedies am skild, 165 +The flowre of wit, finde nought to busie me: +Therefore I mourne, and pitifully mone, +Because that mourning matter I have none. + + +Then gan she wofully to waile, and wring +Her wretched hands in lamentable wise; 170 +And all her sisters, thereto answering, +Threw forth lowd shrieks and drerie dolefull cries. +So rested she: and then the next in rew +Began her grievous plaint, as doth ensew. + +THALIA. + +Where be the sweete delights of learnings treasure, +175 +That wont with comick sock to beautefie +The painted theaters, and fill with pleasure +The listners eyes, and eares with melodie, +In which I late was wont to raine as queene, +And maske in mirth with graces well beseene? 180 + + +O, all is gone! and all that goodly glee, +Which wont to be the glorie of gay wits, +Is layd abed, and no where now to see; +And in her roome unseemly Sorrow sits, +With hollow browes and greisly countenaunce 185 +Marring my ioyous gentle dalliaunce. + + +And him beside sits ugly Barbarisme, +And brutish Ignorance, ycrept of late +Out of dredd darknes of the deep abysme, +Where being bredd, he light and heaven does hate: +They in the mindes of men now tyrannize, 191 +And the faire scene with rudenes foule disguize. + + +All places they with follie have possest, +And with vaine toyes the vulgare entertaine; +But me have banished, with all the rest 195 +That whilome wont to wait upon my traine, +Fine Counterfesaunce*, and unhurtfull Sport, +Delight, and Laughter, deckt in seemly sort. + [* _Counterfesaunce_, mimicry.] + + +All these, and all that els the comick stage +With seasoned wit and goodly pleasance graced, 200 +By which mans life in his likest imáge +Was limned forth, are wholly now defaced; +And those sweete wits which wont the like to frame +Are now despizd, and made a laughing game. + + +And he, the man whom Nature selfe had made 205 +To mock her selfe, and truth to imitate, +With kindly counter* under mimick shade, +Our pleasant Willy, ah! is dead of late: +With whom all ioy and iolly meriment +Is also deaded, and in dolour drent**. 210 + [* _Counter_, counterfeit.] + [** _Drent_, drowned.] + + +In stead thereof scoffing Scurrilitie, +And scornfull Follie with Contempt is crept, +Rolling in rymes of shameles ribaudrie +Without regard, or due decorum kept; +Each idle wit at will presumes to make*, 215 +And doth the learneds taske upon him take. + [* _Make_, write poetry.] + + +But that same gentle spirit, from whose pen +Large streames of honnie and sweete nectar flowe, +Scorning the boldnes of such base-borne men, +Which dare their follies forth so rashlie throwe, +220 +Doth rather choose to sit in idle cell, +Than so himselfe to mockerie to sell. + + +So am I made the servant of the manie, +And laughing stocke of all that list to scorne, +Not honored nor cared for of anie, 225 +But loath’d of losels* as a thing forlorne: +Therefore I mourne and sorrow with the rest, +Untill my cause of sorrow be redrest. + [* _Losels_, worthless fellows.] + + +Therewith she lowdly did lament and shrike, +Pouring forth streames of teares abundantly; 230 +And all her sisters, with compassion like, +The breaches of her singulfs* did supply. +So rested shee: and then the next in rew +Began her grievous plaint, as doth ensew. + [* I.e. the pauses of her sighs.] + +EUTERPE. + + +Like as the dearling of the summers pryde, 235 +Faire Philomele, when winters stormie wrath +The goodly fields, that earst so gay were dyde +In colours divers, quite despoyled hath, +All comfortlesse doth hide her chearlesse head +During the time of that her widowhead, 240 + + +So we, that earst were wont in sweet accord +All places with our pleasant notes to fill, +Whilest favourable times did us afford +Free libertie to chaunt our charmes at will, +All comfortlesse upon the bared bow*, 245 +Like wofull culvers**, doo sit wayling now. + [* _Bow_, bough.] + [** _Culvers_, doves.] + + +For far more bitter storme than winters stowre* +The beautie of the world hath lately wasted, +And those fresh buds, which wont so faire to flowre, +Hath marred quite, and all their blossoms blasted; +250 +And those yong plants, which wont with fruit t’abound, +Now without fruite or leaves are to be found. + [* _Stowre_, violence.] + + +A stonie coldnesse hath benumbd the sence +And livelie spirits of each living wight, +And dimd with darknesse their intelligence, 255 +Darknesse more than Cymerians daylie night: +And monstrous Error, flying in the ayre, +Hath mard the face of all that semed fayre. + + +Image of hellish horrour, Ignorance, +Borne in the bosome of the black abysse, 260 +And fed with Furies milke for sustenaunce +Of his weake infancie, begot amisse +By yawning Sloth on his owne mother Night,— +So hee his sonnes both syre and brother hight,— + + +He, armd with blindnesse and with boldnes stout, 265 +(For blind is bold,) hath our fayre light defaced; +And, gathering unto him a ragged rout +Of Faunes and Satyres, hath our dwellings raced*, +And our chast bowers, in which all vertue rained, +With brutishnesse and beastlie filth hath stained. +270 + [* _Raced_, razed.] + + +The sacred springs of horsefoot Helicon, +So oft bedeawed with our learned layes, +And speaking streames of pure Castalion, +The famous witnesse of our wonted praise, +They trampled have with their fowle footings trade*, +And like to troubled puddles have them made. 276 + [* _Trade_, tread.] + + +Our pleasant groves, which planted were with paines, +That with our musick wont so oft to ring, +And arbors sweet, in which the shepheards swaines +Were wont so oft their pastoralls to sing, 280 +They have cut downe, and all their pleasaunce mard, +That now no pastorall is to bee hard. + + +In stead of them, fowle goblins and shriek-owles +With fearfull howling do all places fill, +And feeble eccho now laments and howles, 285 +The dreadfull accents of their outcries shrill. +So all is turned into wildernesse, +Whilest Ignorance the Muses doth oppresse. + + +And I, whose ioy was earst with spirit full +To teach the warbling pipe to sound aloft, 290 +My spirits now dismayd with sorrow dull, +Doo mone my miserie in silence soft. +Therefore I mourne and waile incessantly, +Till please the heavens affoord me remedy. + + +Therewith shee wayled with exceeding woe, 295 +And pitious lamentation did make; +And all her sisters, seeing her doo soe, +With equall plaints her sorrowe did partake. +So rested shee: and then the next in rew +Began her grievous plaint, as doth ensew. 300 + +TERPSICHORE. + +Whoso hath in the lap of soft delight +Beene long time luld, and fed with pleasures sweet, +Feareles through his own fault or Fortunes spight +To tumble into sorrow and regreet, +Yf chaunce him fall into calamitie, 305 +Findes greater burthen of his miserie. + + +So wee, that earst in ioyance did abound, +And in the bosome of all blis did sit, +Like virgin queenes, with laurell garlands cround, +For vertues meed and ornament of wit, 310 +Sith Ignorance our kingdome did confound, +Bee now become most wretched wightes on ground. + + +And in our royall thrones, which lately stood +In th’hearts of men to rule them carefully, +He now hath placed his accursed brood, 315 +By him begotten of fowle Infamy; +Blind Error, scornefull Follie, and base Spight, +Who hold by wrong that wee should have by right. + + +They to the vulgar sort now pipe and sing, +And make them merrie with their fooleries; 320 +They cherelie chaunt, and rymes at randon fling, +The fruitfull spawne of their ranke fantasies; +They feede the eares of fooles with flattery, +And good men blame, and losels* magnify. + [* _Losels_, worthless fellows.] + + +All places they doo with their toyes possesse, 325 +And raigne in liking of the multitude; +The schooles they till with fond newfanglenesse, +And sway in court with pride and rashnes rude; +Mongst simple shepheards they do boast their skill, +And say their musicke matcheth Phoebus quill. 330 + + +The noble hearts to pleasures they allure, +And tell their Prince that learning is but vaine; +Faire ladies loves they spot with thoughts impure, +And gentle mindes with lewd delights distaine; +Clerks* they to loathly idlenes entice, 335 +And fill their bookes with discipline of vice. + [* _Clerks_, scholars.] + + +So every where they rule and tyrannize, +For their usurped kingdomes maintenaunce, +The whiles we silly maides, whom they dispize +And with reprochfull scorne discountenaunce, 340 +From our owne native heritage exilde, +Walk through the world of every one revilde. + + +Nor anie one doth care to call us in, +Or once vouchsafeth us to entertaine, +Unlesse some one perhaps of gentle kin, 345 +For pitties sake, compassion our paine, +And yeeld us some reliefe in this distresse; +Yet to be so reliev’d is wretchednesse. + + +So wander we all carefull comfortlesse, +Yet none cloth care to comfort us at all; 350 +So seeke we helpe our sorrow to redresse, +Yet none vouchsafes to answere to our call; +Therefore we mourne and pittilesse complaine, +Because none living pittieth our paine. + + +With that she wept and wofullie waymented, 355 +That naught on earth her griefe might pacifie; +And all the rest her dolefull din augmented +With shrikes, and groanes, and grievous agonie. +So ended shee: and then the next in rew +Began her piteous plaint, as doth ensew. 360 + +ERATO. + + +Ye gentle Spirits breathing from above, +Where ye in Venus silver bowre were bred, +Thoughts halfe devine, full of the fire of love, +With beawtie kindled, and with pleasure fed, +Which ye now in securitie possesse, 365 +Forgetfull of your former heavinesse,— + + +Now change the tenor of your ioyous layes, +With which ye use your loves to deifie, +And blazon foorth an earthlie beauties praise +Above the compasse of the arched skie: 370 +Now change your praises into piteous cries, +And eulogies turne into elegies. + + +Such as ye wont, whenas those bitter stounds* +Of raging love first gan you to torment, +And launch your hearts with lamentable wounds 375 +Of secret sorrow and sad languishment, +Before your loves did take you unto grace; +Those now renew, as fitter for this place. + [* _Stounds_, hours.] + + +For I that rule in measure moderate +The tempest of that stormie passion, 380 +And use to paint in rimes the troublous state +Of lovers life in likest fashion, +Am put from practise of my kindlie** skill, +Banisht by those that love with leawdnes fill. + [* _Kindlie_, natural.] + + +Love wont to be schoolmaster of my skill, 385 +And the devicefull matter of my song; +Sweete love devoyd of villanie or ill, +But pure and spotles, as at first he sprong +Out of th’Almighties bosome, where he nests; +From thence infused into mortall brests. 390 + + +Such high conceipt of that celestiall fire, +The base-borne brood of Blindnes cannot gesse, +Ne ever dare their dunghill thoughts aspire +Unto so loftie pitch of perfectnesse, +But rime at riot, and doo rage in love, 395 +Yet little wote what doth thereto behove. + + +Faire Cytheree, the mother of delight +And queene of beautie, now thou maist go pack; +For lo! thy kingdoms is defaced quight, +Thy scepter rent, and power put to wrack; 400 +And thy gay sonne, that winged God of Love, +May now goe prune his plumes like ruffed* dove. + [* _Ruffed_, ruffled.] + + +And ye three twins, to light by Venus brought, +The sweete companions of the Muses late, +From whom whatever thing is goodly thought 405 +Doth borrow grace, the fancie to aggrate*, +Go beg with us, and be companions still, +As heretofore of good, so now of ill. + [* _Aggrate_, please.] + + +For neither you nor we shall anie more +Finde entertainment or in court or schoole: 410 +For that which was accounted heretofore +The learneds meed is now lent to the foole; +He sings of love and maketh loving layes, +And they him heare, and they him highly prayse. + + +With that she powred foorth a brackish flood 415 +Of bitter teares, and made exceeding mone; +And all her sisters, seeing her sad mood, +With lowd laments her answered all at one. +So ended she: and then the next in rew +Began her grievous plaint, as doth ensew. 420 + + +To whom shall I my evill case complaine, +Or tell the anguish of my inward smart, +Sith none is left to remedie my paine, +Or deignes to pitie a perplexed hart; +But rather seekes my sorrow to augment 425 +With fowle reproach, and cruell banishment? + + +For they to whom I used to applie +The faithfull service of my learned skill, +The goodly off-spring of loves progenie, +That wont the world with famous acts to fill, 430 +Whose living praises in heroick style, +It is my chiefe profession to compyle,— + + +They, all corrupted through the rust of time, +That doth all fairest things on earth deface, +Or through unnoble sloth, or sinfull crime, 435 +That doth degenerate the noble race, +Have both desire of worthie deeds forlorne, +And name of learning utterly doo scorne. + + +Ne doo they care to have the auncestrie +Of th’old heroes memorizde anew; 440 +Ne doo they care that late posteritie +Should know their names, or speak their praises dew, +But die, forgot from whence at first they sprong, +As they themselves shalbe forgot ere long. + + +What bootes it then to come from glorious 445 +Forefathers, or to have been nobly bredd? +What oddes twixt Irus and old Inachus, +Twixt best and worst, when both alike are dedd, +If none of neither mention should make, +Nor out of dust their memories awake? 450 + + +Or who would ever care to doo brave deed, +Or strive in vertue others to excell, +If none should yeeld him his deserved meed, +Due praise, that is the spur of doing well? +For if good were not praised more than ill, 455 +None would choose goodnes of his owne freewill. + + +Therefore the nurse of vertue I am hight, +And golden trompet of eternitie, +That lowly thoughts lift up to heavens hight, +And mortall men have powre to deifie: 460 +Bacchus and Hercules I raisd to heaven, +And Charlemaine amongst the starris seaven. + + +But now I will my golden clarion rend, +And will henceforth immortalize no more, +Sith I no more finde worthie to commend 465 +For prize of value, or for learned lore: +For noble peeres, whom I was wont to raise, +Now onely seeke for pleasure, nought for praise. + + +Their great revenues all in sumptuous pride +They spend, that nought to learning they may spare; +And the rich fee which poets wont divide 471 +Now parasites and sycophants doo share: +Therefore I mourne and endlesse sorrow make, +Both for my selfe and for my sisters sake. + + +With that she lowdly gan to waile and shrike, 475 +And from her eyes a sea of teares did powre; +And all her sisters, with compassion like, +Did more increase the sharpnes of her showre. +So ended she: and then the next in rew +Began her plaint, as doth herein ensew. 480 + +URANIA. + + +What wrath of gods, or wicked influence +Of starres conspiring wretched men t’afflict, +Hath powrd on earth this noyous pestilence, +That mortall mindes doth inwardly infect +With love of blindnesse and of ignorance, 485 +To dwell in darkenesse without sovenance?* + [* _Sovenance_, remembrance.] + + +What difference twixt man and beast is left, +When th’heavenlie light of knowledge is put out, +And th’ornaments of wisdome are bereft? +Then wandreth he in error and in doubt, 490 +Unweeting* of the danger hee is in, +Through fleshes frailtie and deceipt of sin. + [* _Unweeting_, unknowing.] + + +In this wide world in which they wretches stray, +It is the onelie comfort which they have, +It is their light, their loadstarre, and their day; +495 +But hell, and darkenesse, and the grislie grave, +Is Ignorance, the enemie of Grace, +That mindes of men borne heavenlie doth debace. + + +Through knowledge we behold the worlds creation, +How in his cradle first he fostred was; 500 +And iudge of Natures cunning operation, +How things she formed of a formelesse mas: +By knowledge wee do learne our selves to knowe, +And what to man, and what to God, wee owe. + + +From hence wee mount aloft unto the skie, 505 +And looke into the christall firmament; +There we behold the heavens great hierarchie, +The starres pure light, the spheres swift movëment, +The spirites and intelligences fayre, +And angels waighting on th’Almighties chayre. 510 + + +And there, with humble minde and high insight, +Th’eternall Makers maiestie wee viewe, +His love, his truth, his glorie, and his might, +And mercie more than mortall men can vew. +O soveraigne Lord, O soveraigne happinesse, 515 +To see thee, and thy mercie measurelesse! + + +Such happines have they that doo embrace +The precepts of my heavenlie discipline; +But shame and sorrow and accursed case +Have they that scorne the schoole of arts divine, +520 +And banish me, which do professe the skill +To make men heavenly wise through humbled will. + + +However yet they mee despise and spight, +I feede on sweet contentment of my thought, +And please my selfe with mine owne self-delight, 525 +In contemplation of things heavenlie wrought: +So, loathing earth, I looke up to the sky, +And being driven hence, I thether fly. + + +Thence I behold the miserie of men, +Which want the blis that wisedom would them breed. +And like brute beasts doo lie in loathsome den 531 +Of ghostly darkenes and of gastlie dreed: +For whom I mourne, and for my selfe complaine, +And for my sisters eake whom they disdaine. + + +With that shee wept and waild so pityouslie, 535 +As if her eyes had beene two springing wells; +And all the rest, her sorrow to supplie, +Did throw forth shrieks and cries and dreery yells. +So ended shee: and then the next in rew +Began her mournfull plaint, as doth ensew. 540 + +POLYHYMNIA. + + +A dolefull case desires a dolefull song, +Without vaine art or curious complements; +And squallid Fortune, into basenes flong, +Doth scorne the pride of wonted ornaments. +Then fittest are these ragged rimes for mee, 545 +To tell my sorrowes that exceeding bee. + + +For the sweet numbers and melodious measures +With which I wont the winged words to tie, +And make a tunefull diapase of pleasures, +Now being let to runne at libertie 550 +By those which have no skill to rule them right, +Have now quite lost their naturall delight. + + +Heapes of huge words uphoorded hideously, +With horrid sound, though having little sence, +They thinke to be chiefe praise of poetry; 555 +And, thereby wanting due intelligence, +Have mard the face of goodly poesie, +And made a monster of their fantasie. + + +Whilom in ages past none might professe +But princes and high priests that secret skill; 560 +The sacred lawes therein they wont expresse, +And with deepe oracles their verses fill: +Then was shee held in soveraigne dignitie, +And made the noursling of nobilitie. + + +But now nor prince nor priest doth her maintayne, +But suffer her prophaned for to bee 566 +Of the base vulgar, that with hands uncleane +Dares to pollute her hidden mysterie; +And treadeth under foote hir holie things, +Which was the care of kesars* and of kings. 570 + [* _Kesars_, emperors.] + + +One onelie lives, her ages ornament, +And myrrour of her Makers maiestie, +That with rich bountie and deare cherishment +Supports the praise of noble poesie; +Ne onelie favours them which it professe, 575 +But is her selfe a peereles poetresse. + + +Most peereles Prince, most peereles Poetresse, +The true Pandora of all heavenly graces, +Divine Elisa, sacred Emperesse! +Live she for ever, and her royall p’laces 580 +Be fild with praises of divinest wits, +That her eternize with their heavenlie writs! + + +Some few beside this sacred skill esteme, +Admirers of her glorious excellence; +Which, being lightned with her beawties beme, 585 +Are thereby fild with happie influence, +And lifted up above the worldës gaze, +To sing with angels her immortall praize. + + +But all the rest, as borne of salvage brood, +And having beene with acorns alwaies fed, 590 +Can no whit savour this celestiall food, +But with base thoughts are into blindnesse led, +And kept from looking on the lightsome day: +For whome I waile and weepe all that I may. + + +Eftsoones* such store of teares shee forth did powre, +As if shee all to water would have gone; 596 +And all her sisters, seeing her sad stowre**, +Did weep and waile, and made exceeding mone, +And all their learned instruments did breake: +The rest untold no living tongue can speake. 600 + [* _Eftsoones_, forthwith.] + [** _Stowre_, disturbance, trouble.] + + +FOOTNOTES: + + +Ver 15—_Palici._. The Palici were children of Jupiter and Thalia, not +Calliope. H. + + +Ver. 205-210.—There are sufficient reasons for believing that these +lines refer to Shakespeare. He had probably written The Two Gentlemen +of Verona, and Love’s Labor’s Lost, before the Complaints were +published (1591), and no other author had up to this time produced a +comedy that would compare with these. For a discussion of this subject, +see Collier’s Life, Chap. VII., and Knight’s Biography, pp. 344-348. C. + + +VIRGILS GNAT. + +LONG SINCE DEDICATED + +TO THE MOST NOBLE AND EXCELLENT LORD, + +THE EARLE OF LEICESTER, + +LATE DECEASED. + + + Wrong’d, yet not daring to expresse my paine, +To you, great Lord, the causer of my care, +In clowdie teares my case I thus complaine +Unto your selfe, that onely privie are. + But if that any Oedipus unware +Shall chaunce, through power of some divining spright, +To reade the secrete of this riddle rare, +And know the purporte of my evill plight, +Let him rest pleased with his owne insight, +Ne further seeke to glose upon the text: +For griefe enough it is to grieved wight +To feele his fault, and not be further vext. + But what so by my selfe may not be showen, +May by this Gnatts complaint be easily knowen*. + + +[* This riddle has never been guessed. Upton conjectures that +Leicester’s displeasure was incurred for “some kind of officious +sedulity in Spenser, who much desired to see his patron married to the +Queen.” C.] + + +VIRGILS GNAT. + +We now have playde, Augustus, wantonly, +Tuning our song unto a tender Muse, +And, like a cobweb weaving slenderly, +Have onely playde: let thus much then excuse +This Gnats small poeme, that th’whole history 5 +Is but a iest; though envie it abuse: +But who such sports and sweet delights doth blame, +Shall lighter seeme than this Gnats idle name. + + +Hereafter, when as season more secure +Shall bring forth fruit, this Muse shall speak to thee + 10 +In bigger notes, that may thy sense allure, +And for thy worth frame some fit poesie: +The golden ofspring of Latona pure, +And ornament of great Ioves progenie, +Phoebus, shall be the author of my song, 15 +Playing on yvorie harp with silver strong*. + [* _Strong_, strung.] + + +He shall inspire my verse with gentle mood, +Of poets prince, whether he woon* beside +Faire Xanthus sprincled with Chimaeras blood, +Or in the woods of Astery abide, 20 +Or whereas Mount Parnasse, the Muses brood, +Doth his broad forhead like two hornes divide, +And the sweete waves of sounding Castaly +With liquid foote doth slide downe easily. + [* _Woon_, dwell.] + + +Wherefore ye Sisters, which the glorie bee 25 +Of the Pierian streames, fayre Naiades, +Go too, and dauncing all in companie, +Adorne that god: and thou holie Pales, +To whome the honest care of husbandrie +Returneth by continuall successe, 30 +Have care for to pursue his footing light +Throgh the wide woods and groves with green leaves dight. + + +Professing thee I lifted am aloft +Betwixt the forrest wide and starrie sky: +And thou, most dread Octavius, which oft 35 +To learned wits givest courage worthily, +O come, thou sacred childe, come sliding soft, +And favour my beginnings graciously: +For not these leaves do sing that dreadfull stound*, +When giants bloud did staine Phlegraean ground; 40 + [* _Stound_, time.] + + +Nor how th’halfe-horsy people, Centaures hight, +Fought with the bloudie Lapithaes at bord; +Nor how the East with tyranous despight +Burnt th’Attick towres, and people slew with sword; +Nor how Mount Athos through exceeding might 45 +Was digged downe; nor yron bands abord +The Pontick sea by their huge navy cast, +My volume shall renowne, so long since past. + + +Nor Hellespont trampled with horses feete, +When flocking Persians did the Greeks affray: 50 +But my soft Muse, as for her power more meete, +Delights (with Phoebus friendly leave) to play +An easie running verse with tender feete. +And thou, dread sacred child, to thee alway +Let everlasting lightsome glory strive, 55 +Through the worlds endles ages to survive. + + +And let an happie roome remaine for thee +Mongst heavenly ranks, where blessed soules do rest; +And let long lasting life with ioyous glee, +As thy due meede that thou deservest best, 60 +Hereafter many yeares remembred be +Amongst good men, of whom thou oft are blest. +Live thou for ever in all happinesse! +But let us turne to our first businesse. + + +The fiery Sun was mounted now on Light 65 +Up to the heavenly towers, and shot each where +Out of his golden charet glistering light; +And fayre Aurora, with her rosie heare, +The hatefull darknes now had put to flight; +When as the Shepheard, seeing day appeare, 70 +His little goats gan drive out of their stalls, +To feede abroad, where pasture best befalls. + + +To an high mountaines top he with them went, +Where thickest grasse did cloath the open hills: +They, now amongst the woods and thickets ment* 75 +Now in the valleies wandring at their wills, +Spread themselves farre abroad through each descent; +Some on the soft greene grasse feeding their fills, +Some, clambring through the hollow cliffes on hy, +Nibble the bushie shrubs which growe thereby. 80 + [* _Ment_, mingled.] + + +Others the utmost boughs of trees doe crop, +And brouze the woodbine twigges that freshly bud; +This with full bit* doth catch the utmost top +Of some soft willow, or new growen stud**; +This with sharpe teeth the bramble leaves doth lop, +85 +And chaw the tender prickles in her cud; +The whiles another high doth overlooke +Her owne like image in a christall brooke. + [* _Bit_, bite.] + [** _Stud_, stock.] + + +O the great happines which shepheards have, +Who so loathes not too much the poore estate 90 +With minde that ill use doth before deprave, +Ne measures all things by the costly rate +Of riotise, and semblants outward brave! +No such sad cares, as wont to macerate +And rend the greedie mindes of covetous men, 95 +Do ever creepe into the shepheards den. + + +Ne cares he if the fleece which him arayes +Be not twice steeped in Assyrian dye; +Ne glistering of golde, which underlayes* +The summer beames, doe blinde his gazing eye; 100 +Ne pictures beautie, nor the glauncing rayes +Of precious stones, whence no good commeth by; +Ne yet his cup embost with imagery +Of Baetus or of Alcons vanity. + [* _Underlayes_, surpasses.] + + +Ne ought the whelky* pearles esteemeth hee, 105 +Which are from Indian seas brought far away: +But with pure brest, from carefull sorrow free, +On the soft grasse his limbs doth oft display, +In sweete spring time, when flowres varietie +With sundrie colours paints the sprincled lay**; 110 +There, lying all at ease from guile or spight, +With pype of fennie reedes doth him delight. + [* _Whelky_, shelly (_conchea_).] + [** _lay_, lea.] + + +There he, lord of himselfe, with palme bedight, +His looser locks doth wrap in wreath of vine: +There his milk-dropping goats be his delight, 115 +And fruitefull Pales, and the forrest greene, +And darkesome caves in pleasaunt vallies pight*, +Wheras continuall shade is to be seene, +And where fresh springing wells, as christall neate, +Do alwayes flow, to quench his thirstie heate. 120 + [* _Pight_, placed.] + + +O! who can lead then a more happie life +Than he, that with cleane minde and heart sincere, +No greedy riches knowes nor bloudie strife, +No deadly fight of warlick fleete doth feare, +Ne runs in perill of foes cruell knife, 125 +That in the sacred temples he may reare +A trophee of his glittering spoyles and treasure, +Or may abound in riches above measure. + + +Of him his God is worshipt with his sythe, +And not with skill of craftsman polished: 130 +He ioyes in groves, and makes himselfe full blythe +With sundrie flowers in wilde fieldes gathered, +Ne frankincens he from Panchaea buyth: +Sweete Quiet harbours in his harmeles head, +And perfect Pleasure buildes her ioyous bowre, 135 +Free from sad cares, that rich mens hearts devowre. + + +This all his care, this all his whole indevour, +To this his minde and senses he doth bend, +How he may flow in quiets matchles treasour, +Content with any food that God doth send; 140 +And how his limbs, resolv’d through idle leisour, +Unto sweete sleepe he may securely lend, +In some coole shadow from the scorching heat, +The whiles his flock their chawed cuds do eate. + + +O Flocks, O Faunes, and O ye pleasaunt Springs 145 +Of Tempe, where the countrey nymphs are rife, +Through whose not costly care each shepheard sings +As merrie notes upon his rusticke fife +As that Ascraean bard*, whose fame now rings +Through the wide world, and leads as ioyfull life; +150 +Free from all troubles and from worldly toyle, +In which fond men doe all their dayes turmoyle. + [* I.e. Hesiod] + + +In such delights whilst thus his carelesse time +This shepheard drives, upleaning on his batt*, +And on shrill reedes chaunting his rustick rime, 155 +Hyperion, throwing foorth his beames full hott, +Into the highest top of heaven gan clime, +And the world parting by an equall lott, +Did shed his whirling flames on either side, +As the great Ocean doth himselfe divide. 160 + [* _Batt_, stick] + + +Then gan the shepheard gather into one +His stragling goates, and drave them to a foord, +Whose caerule streame, rombling in pible stone, +Crept under mosse as greene as any goord. +Now had the sun halfe heaven overgone, 165 +When he his heard back from that water foord +Drave, from the force of Phoebus boyling ray, +Into thick shadowes, there themselves to lay. + + +Soone as he them plac’d in thy sacred wood, +O Delian goddesse, saw, to which of yore 170 +Came the bad daughter of old Cadmus brood, +Cruell Agavè, flying vengeance sore +Of King Nictileus for the guiltie blood +Which she with cursed hands had shed before; +There she halfe frantick, having slaine her sonne, +175 +Did shrowd her selfe like punishment to shonne. + + +Here also playing on the grassy greene, +Woodgods, and Satyres, and swift Dryades, +With many Fairies oft were dauncing seene. +Not so much did Dan Orpheus represse 180 +The streames of Hebrus with his songs, I weene, +As that faire troupe of woodie goddesses +Staied thee, O Peneus, powring foorth to thee, +From cheereful lookes, great mirth and gladsome glee. + + +The verie nature of the place, resounding 185 +With gentle murmure of the breathing ayre, +A pleasant bowre with all delight abounding +In the fresh shadowe did for them prepayre, +To rest their limbs with wearines redounding. +For first the high palme-trees, with braunches faire, +Out of the lowly vallies did arise, 191 +And high shoote up their heads into the skyes. + + +And them amongst the wicked lotos grew, +Wicked, for holding guilefully away +Ulysses men, whom rapt with sweetenes new, 195 +Taking to hoste*, it quite from him did stay; +And eke those trees, in whose transformed hew +The Sunnes sad daughters waylde the rash decay +Of Phaëton, whose limbs with lightening rent +They gathering up, with sweete teares did lament. +200 + [* _Hoste_, entertain.] + + +And that same tree*, in which Demophoon, +By his disloyalty lamented sore, +Eternall hurte left unto many one: +Whom als accompanied the oke, of yore 204 +Through fatall charmes transferred to such an one: +The oke, whose acornes were our foode before +That Ceres seede of mortall men were knowne, +Which first Triptoleme taught how to be sowne. + [* I.e. the almond-tree.] + + +Here also grew the rougher-rinded pine, +The great Argoan ships brave ornament, 210 +Whom golden fleece did make an heavenly signe; +Which coveting, with his high tops extent, +To make the mountaines touch the starres divine, +Decks all the forrest with embellishment; +And the blacke holme that loves the watrie vale; 215 +And the sweete cypresse, signe of deadly bale. + + +Emongst the rest the clambring yvie grew, +Knitting his wanton armes with grasping hold, +Least that the poplar happely should rew +Her brothers strokes, whose boughes she doth enfold +220 +With her lythe twigs, till they the top survew, +And paint with pallid greene her buds of gold. +Next did the myrtle tree to her approach, +Not yet unmindfull of her olde reproach. + + +But the small birds in their wide boughs embowring +225 +Chaunted their sundrie tunes with sweete consent; +And under them a silver spring, forth powring +His trickling streames, a gentle murmure sent; +Thereto the frogs, bred in the slimie scowring +Of the moist moores, their iarring voyces bent; 230 +And shrill grashoppers chirped them around: +All which the ayrie echo did resound. + + +In this so pleasant place the shepheards flocke +Lay everie where, their wearie limbs to rest, +On everie bush, and everie hollow rocke, 235 +Where breathe on them the whistling wind mote best; +The whiles the shepheard self, tending his stocke, +Sate by the fountaine side, in shade to rest, +Where gentle slumbring sleep oppressed him +Displaid on ground, and seized everie lim. 240 + + +Of trecherie or traines nought tooke he keep, +But, looslie on the grassie greene dispredd, +His dearest life did trust to careles sleep; +Which, weighing down his drouping drowsie hedd, +In quiet rest his molten heart did steep, 245 +Devoid of care, and feare of all falshedd: +Had not inconstant Fortune, bent to ill, +Bid strange mischance his quietnes to spill. + + +For at his wonted time in that same place +An huge great Serpent, all with speckles pide, 250 +To drench himselfe in moorish slime did trace, +There from the boyling heate himselfe to hide: +He, passing by with rolling wreathed pace, +With brandisht tongue the emptie aire did gride*, +And wrapt his scalie boughts** with fell despight, +255 +That all things seem’d appalled at his sight. + [* _Gride_, pierce] + [** _Boughts_, knots] + + +Now more and more having himselfe enrolde, +His glittering breast he lifteth up on hie, +And with proud vaunt his head aloft doth holde; +His creste above, spotted with purple die, 260 +On everie side did shine like scalie golde; +And his bright eyes, glauncing full dreadfullie, +Did seeme to flame out flakes of flashing fyre, +And with sterne lookes to threaten kindled yre. + + +Thus wise long time he did himselfe dispace 265 +There round about, when as at last he spide, +Lying along before him in that place, +That flocks grand captaine and most trustie guide: +Eftsoones more fierce in visage and in pace, +Throwing his firie eyes on everie side, 270 +He commeth on, and all things in his way +Full stearnly rends that might his passage stay. + + +Much he disdaines that anie one should dare +To come unto his haunt; for which intent +He inly burns, and gins straight to prepare 275 +The weapons which Nature to him hath lent; +Fellie he hisseth, and doth fiercely stare, +And hath his iawes with angrie spirits rent, +That all his tract with bloudie drops is stained, +And all his foldes are now in length outstrained. +280 + + +Whom, thus at point prepared, to prevent, +A litle noursling of the humid ayre, +A Gnat, unto the sleepie shepheard went, +And marking where his ey-lids twinckling rare +Shewd the two pearles which sight unto him lent, 285 +Through their thin coverings appearing fayre +His little needle there infixing deep, +Warnd him awake, from death himselfe to keep. + + +Wherewith enrag’d, he fiercely gan upstart, +And with his hand him rashly bruzing slewe 290 +As in avengement of his heedles smart, +That streight the spirite out of his senses flew. +And life out of his members did depart: +When, suddenly casting aside his vew, +He spide his foe with felonous intent, 295 +And fervent eyes to his destruction bent. + + +All suddenly dismaid, and hartles quight, +He fled abacke, and, catching hastie holde +Of a yong alder hard beside him pight, +It rent, and streight about him gan beholde 300 +What god or fortune would assist his might. +But whether god or fortune made him bold +Its hard to read: yet hardie will he had +To overcome, that made him lesse adrad*. + [* _Adrad_, terrified] + + +The scalie backe of that most hideous snake 305 +Enwrapped round, oft faining to retire +And oft him to assaile, he fiercely strake +Whereas his temples did his creast front tyre*; +And, for he was but slowe, did slowth off shake, +And, gazing ghastly on, (for feare and yre 310 +Had blent** so much his sense, that lesse he feard,)— +Yet, when he saw him slaine, himselfe he cheard. + [* _Tyre_, encircle] + [** _Blent_, blinded] + + +By this the Night forth from the darksome bowre +Of Herebus her teemed* steedes gan call, +And laesie Vesper in his timely howre 315 +From golden Oeta gan proceede withall; +Whenas the shepheard after this sharpe stowre**, +Seing the doubled shadowes low to fall, +Gathering his straying flocke, does homeward fare, +And unto rest his wearie ioynts prepare. 320 + [* _Teemed_, harnessed in a team] + [** _Stowre_, perturbation] + + +Into whose sense so soone as lighter sleepe +Was entered, and now loosing everie lim, +Sweete slumbring deaw in carelesnesse did steepe, +The image of that Gnat appeard to him, +And in sad tearmes gan sorrowfully weepe, 325 +With grieslie countenaunce and visage grim, +Wailing the wrong which he had done of late, +In steed of good, hastning his cruell fate. + + +Said he, “What have I wretch deserv’d, that thus +Into this bitter bale I am outcast, 330 +Whilest that thy life more deare and precious +Was than mine owne, so long as it did last? +I now, in lieu of paines so gracious, +Am tost in th’ayre with everie windie blast: +Thou, safe delivered from sad decay, 335 +Thy careles limbs in loose sleep dost display. + + +“So livest thou; but my poore wretched ghost +Is forst to ferrie over Lethes river, +And spoyld of Charon too and fro am tost. +Seest thou not how all places quake and quiver, 340 +Lightned with deadly lamps on everie post? +Tisiphone each where doth shake and shiver +Her flaming fire-brond, encountring me, +Whose lockes uncombed cruell adders be. + + +“And Cerberus, whose many mouthes doo bay, 345 +And barke out flames, as if on fire he fed, +Adowne whose necke, in terrible array, +Ten thousand snakes, cralling about his hed, +Doo hang in heapes, that horribly affray, +And bloodie eyes doo glister firie red, 350 +He oftentimes me dreadfullie doth threaten +With painfull torments to be sorely beaten. + + +“Ay me! that thankes so much should faile of meed, +For that I thee restor’d to life againe, +Even from the doore of death and deadlie dreed. 355 +Where then is now the guerdon of my paine? +Where the reward of my so piteous deed? +The praise of pitie vanisht is in vaine, +And th’antique faith of iustice long agone +Out of the land is fled away and gone. 360 + + +“I saw anothers fate approaching fast, +And left mine owne his safëtie to tender; +Into the same mishap I now am cast, +And shun’d destruction doth destruction render: +Not unto him that never hath trespást, 365 +But punishment is due to the offender: +Yet let destruction be the punishment, +So long as thankfull will may it relent. + + +“I carried am into waste wildernesse, +Waste wildernes, amongst Cymerian shades, 370 +Where endles paines and hideous heavinesse +Is round about me heapt in darksome glades. +For there huge Othos sits in sad distresse, +Fast bound with serpents that him oft invades, +Far of beholding Ephialtes tide, 375 +Which once assai’d to burne this world so wide. + + +“And there is mournfull Tityus, mindefull yet +Of thy displeasure, O Latona faire; +Displeasure too implacable was it, +That made him meat for wild foules of the ayre: 380 +Much do I feare among such fiends to sit; +Much do I feare back to them to repayre, +To the black shadowes of the Stygian shore, +Where wretched ghosts sit wailing evermore. + + +“There next the utmost brinck doth he abide 385 +That did the bankets of the gods bewray, +Whose throat through thirst to nought nigh being dride, +His sense to seeke for ease turnes every way: +And he that in avengement of his pride, +For scorning to the sacred gods to pray, 390 +Against a mountaine rolls a mightie stone, +Calling in vaine for rest, and can have none. + + +“Go ye with them, go, cursed damosells, +Whose bridale torches foule Erynnis tynde*, +And Hymen, at your spousalls sad, foretells 395 +Tydings of death and massacre unkinde**: +With them that cruell Colchid mother dwells, +The which conceiv’d in her revengefull minde +With bitter woundes her owne deere babes to slay, +And murdred troupes upon great heapes to lay. 400 + [* _Tynde_, kindled.] + [** _Unkinde_, unnatural.] + + +“There also those two Pandionian maides, +Calling on Itis, Itis evermore, +Whom, wretched boy, they slew with guiltie blades; +For whome the Thracian king lamenting sore, +Turn’d to a lapwing, fowlie them upbraydes, 405 +And flattering round about them still does sore; +There now they all eternally complaine +Of others wrong, and suffer endles paine. + + +“But the two brethren* borne of Cadmus blood, +Whilst each does for the soveraignty contend, 411 +Blinde through ambition, and with vengeance wood**, +Each doth against the others bodie bend +His cursed steele, of neither well withstood, +And with wide wounds their carcases doth rend; +That yet they both doe mortall foes remaine, 415 +Sith each with brothers bloudie hand was slaine. + [* I.e. Eteocles and Polynices.] + [** _Wood_, mad.] + + +“Ah (waladay!) there is no end of paine, +Nor chaunge of labour may intreated bee: +Yet I beyond all these am carried faine, +Where other powers farre different I see, 420 +And must passe over to th’Elisian plaine: +There grim Persephone, encountring mee, +Doth urge her fellow Furies earnestlie +With their bright firebronds me to terrifie. + + +“There chast Alceste lives inviolate, 425 +Free from all care, for that her husbands daies +She did prolong by changing fate for fate: +Lo! there lives also the immortall praise +Of womankinde, most faithfull to her mate, +Penelope; and from her farre awayes 430 +A rulesse* rout of yongmen which her woo’d, +All slaine with darts, lie wallowed in their blood. + [* _Rulesse_, rule-less.] + + +“And sad Eurydice thence now no more +Must turne to life, but there detained bee +For looking back, being forbid before: 435 +Yet was the guilt thereof, Orpheus, in thee! +Bold sure he was, and worthie spirite bore, +That durst those lowest shadowes goe to see, +And could beleeve that anie thing could please +Fell Cerberus, or Stygian powres appease. 440 + + +“Ne feard the burning waves of Phlegeton, +Nor those same mournfull kingdomes, compassed +With rustle horrour and fowle fashion; +And deep digd vawtes*; and Tartar covered +With bloodie night and darke confusion; 445 +And iudgement seates, whose iudge is deadlie dred, +A iudge that after death doth punish sore +The faults which life hath trespassed before. + [* _Vawtes_, vaults.] + + +“But valiant fortune made Dan Orpheus bolde: +For the swift running rivers still did stand, 450 +And the wilde beasts their furie did withhold, +To follow Orpheus musicke through the land: +And th’okes, deep grounded in the earthly molde, +Did move, as if they could him understand; 454 +And the shrill woods, which were of sense bereav’d, +Through their hard barke his silver sound receav’d. + + +“And eke the Moone her hastie steedes did stay, +Drawing in teemes along the starrie skie; +And didst, O monthly Virgin, thou delay +Thy nightly course, to heare his melodie? 460 +The same was able, with like lovely lay, +The Queene of Hell to move as easily +To yeeld Eurydice unto her fere, +Backe to be borne, though it unlawfull were. + + +“She, ladie, having well before approoved 465 +The feends to be too cruell and severe, +Observ’d th’appointed way, as her behooved, +Ne ever did her eysight turne arere, +Ne ever spake, ne cause of speaking mooved; +But, cruell Orpheus, thou much crueller, 470 +Seeking to kisse her, brok’st the gods decree, +And thereby mad’st her ever damn’d to be. + + +“Ah! but sweete love of pardon worthie is, +And doth deserve to have small faults remitted; +If Hell at least things lightly done amis 475 +Knew how to pardon, when ought is omitted: +Yet are ye both received into blis, +And to the seates of happie soules admitted. +And you beside the honourable band +Of great heroës doo in order stand. 480 + + +“There be the two stout sonnes of AEacus, +Fierce Peleus, and the hardie Telamon, +Both seeming now full glad and ioyeous +Through their syres dreadfull iurisdiction, +Being the iudge of all that horrid hous: 488 +And both of them, by strange occasion, +Renown’d in choyce of happie marriage +Through Venus grace, and vertues cariage. + + +“For th’one was ravisht of his owne bondmaide, +The faire Ixione captiv’d from Troy: 490 +But th’other was with Thetis love assaid, +Great Nereus his daughter and his ioy. +On this side them there is a yongman layd, +Their match in glorie, mightie, fierce, and coy, +That from th’Argolick ships, with furious yre, 495 +Bett back the furie of the Troian fyre. + + +“O! who would not recount the strong divorces +Of that great warre, which Troianes oft behelde, +And oft beheld the warlike Greekish forces, +When Teucrian soyle with bloodie rivers swelde, 500 +And wide Sigraean shores were spred with corses, +And Simois and Xanthus blood outwelde; +Whilst Hector raged, with outragious minde, +Flames, weapons, wounds, in Greeks fleete to have tynde. + + +“For Ida selfe, in ayde of that fierce fight, 505 +Out of her mountaines ministred supplies; +And like a kindly nourse did yeeld, for spight, +Store of firebronds out of her nourseries +Unto her foster children, that they might +Inflame the navie of their enemies, 510 +And all the Rhetaean shore to ashes turne, +Where lay the ships which they did seeke to burne. + + +“Gainst which the noble sonne of Telamon +Oppos’d himselfe, and thwarting* his huge shield, +Them battell bad; gainst whom appeard anon 515 +Hector, the glorie of the Troian field: +Both fierce and furious in contention +Encountred, that their mightie strokes so shrild +As the great clap of thunder, which doth ryve +The railing heavens and cloudes asunder dryve. 520 + [* _Thwarting_, interposing.] + + +“So th’one with fire and weapons did contend +To cut the ships from turning home againe +To Argos; th’other strove for to defend* +The force of Vulcane with his might and maine. +Thus th’one Aeacide did his fame extend: 525 +But th’other ioy’d that, on the Phrygian playne +Having the blood of vanquisht Hector shedd, +He compast Troy thrice with his bodie dedd. + [* _Defend_, keep off.] + + +“Againe great dole on either partie grewe, +That him to death unfaithfull Paris sent; 530 +And also him that false Ulysses slewe, +Drawne into danger through close ambushment; +Therefore from him Laërtes sonne his vewe +Doth turn aside, and boasts his good event +In working of Strymonian Rhaesus fall, 535 +And efte* in Dolons slye surprÿsall. + [* _Efte_, again.] + + +“Againe the dreadfull Cycones him dismay, +And blacke Laestrigones, a people stout; +Then greedie Scilla, under whom there bay +Manie great bandogs, which her gird about; 540 +Then doo the AEtnean Cyclops him affray, +And deep Charybdis gulphing in and out; +Lastly the squalid lakes of Tartarie, +And griesly feends of hell him terrifie. + + +“There also goodly Agamemnon bosts, 545 +The glorie of the stock of Tantalus, +And famous light of all the Greekish hosts; +Under whose conduct most victorious, +The Dorick flames consum’d the Iliack posts. +Ah! but the Greekes themselves, more dolorous, 550 +To thee, O Troy, paid penaunce for thy fall, +In th’Hellespont being nigh drowned all. + + +“Well may appeare by proofe of their mischaunce +The chaungfull turning of mens slipperie state, +That none whom fortune freely doth advaunce 555 +Himselfe therefore to heaven should elevate: +For loftie type of honour through the glaunce +Of envies dart is downe in dust prostrate, +And all that vaunts in worldly vanitie +Shall fall through fortunes mutabilitie. 560 + + +“Th’Argolicke power returning home againe, +Enricht with spoyles of th’Ericthonian towre, +Did happie winde and weather entertaine, +And with good speed the fomie billowes scowre: +No signe of storme, no feare of future paine, 565 +Which soone ensued them with heavie stowre*: +Nereïs to the seas a token gave, +The whiles their crooked keeles the surges clave. + [* _Stowre_, turmoil, uproar.] + + +“Suddenly, whether through the gods decree, +Or haplesse rising of some froward starre, 570 +The heavens on everie side enclowded bee: +Black stormes and fogs are blowen up from farre, +That now the pylote can no loadstarre see, +But skies and seas doo make most dreadfull warre; +The billowes striving to the heavens to reach, 575 +And th’heavens striving them for to impeach*. + [* _Impeach_, hinder.] + + +“And, in avengement of their bold attempt, +Both sun and starres and all the heavenly powres +Conspire in one to wreake their rash contempt, +And downe on them to fall from highest towres: 580 +The skie, in pieces seeming to be rent, +Throwes lightning forth, and haile, and harmful showres, +That death on everie side to them appeares, +In thousand formes, to worke more ghastly feares. + + +“Some in the greedie flouds are sunke and drent*; +585 +Some on the rocks of Caphareus are throwne; +Some on th’Euboick cliffs in pieces rent; +Some scattred on the Hercaean** shores unknowne; +And manie lost, of whom no moniment +Remaines, nor memorie is to be showne: 590 +Whilst all the purchase@ of the Phrigian pray, +Tost on salt billowes, round about doth stray. +[* _Drent_, drowned.] +[** _Hercaean_ should probably be AEgean.] +[@ _Purchase_, booty.] + + +“Here manie other like heroës bee, +Equall in honour to the former crue, +Whom ye in goodly seates may placed see, 595 +Descended all from Rome by linage due; +From Rome, that holds the world in sovereigntie, +And doth all nations unto her subdue: +Here Fabii and Decii doo dwell, +Horatii that in vertue did excell. 600 + + +“And here the antique fame of stout Camill +Doth ever live; and constant Curtius, +Who, stifly bent his vowed life to spill +For countreyes health, a gulph most hideous +Amidst the towne with his owne corps did fill, 605 +T’appease the Powers; and prudent Mutius, +Who in his flesh endur’d the scorching flame, +To daunt his foe by ensample of the same. + + +“And here wise Curius, companion +Of noble vertues, lives in endles rest; 610 +And stout Flaminius, whose devotion +Taught him the fires scorn’d furie to detest; +And here the praise of either Scipion +Abides in highest place above the best, +To whom the ruin’d walls of Carthage vow’d, 615 +Trembling their forces, sound their praises lowd. + + +“Live they for ever through their lasting praise! +But I, poore wretch, am forced to retourne +To the sad lakes that Phoebus sunnie rayes +Doo never see, where soules doo alwaies mourne; 620 +And by the wayling shores to waste my dayes, +Where Phlegeton with quenchles flames doth burne; +By which iust Minos righteous soules doth sever +From wicked ones, to live in blisse for ever. + + +“Me therefore thus the cruell fiends of hell, 625 +Girt with long snakes and thousand yron chaynes, +Through doome of that their cruell iudge compell, +With bitter torture and impatient paines, +Cause of my death and iust complaint to tell. +For thou art he whom my poore ghost complaines 630 +To be the author of her ill unwares, +That careles hear’st my intollerable cares. + + +“Them therefore as bequeathing to the winde, +I now depart, returning to thee never, +And leave this lamentable plaint behinde. 635 +But doo thou haunt the soft downe-rolling river, +And wilde greene woods and fruitful pastures minde, +And let the flitting aire my vaine words sever.” +Thus having said, he heavily departed +With piteous crie that anie would have smarted. 640 + + +Now, when the sloathfull fit of lifes sweete rest +Had left the heavie Shepheard, wondrous cares +His inly grieved minde full sore opprest; +That balefull sorrow he no longer beares +For that Gnats death, which deeply was imprest, 645 +But bends what ever power his aged yeares +Him lent, yet being such as through their might +He lately slue his dreadfull foe in fight. + + +By that same river lurking under greene, +Eftsoones* he gins to fashion forth a place, 650 +And, squaring it in compasse well beseene**, +There plotteth out a tombe by measured space: +His yron-headed spade tho making cleene, +To dig up sods out of the flowrie grasse, +His worke he shortly to good purpose brought, 655 +Like as he had conceiv’d it in his thought. + [* _Eftsoones_, immediately.] + [** _Well beseene_, seemly.] + + +An heape of earth he hoorded up on hie, +Enclosing it with banks on everie side, +And thereupon did raise full busily +A little mount, of greene turffs edifide*; 660 +And on the top of all, that passers by +Might it behold, the toomb he did provide +Of smoothest marble stone in order set, +That never might his luckie scape forget. + [* _Edifide_, built.] + + +And round about he taught sweete flowres to growe; +665 +The Rose, engrained in pure scarlet die; +The Lilly fresh, and Violet belowe; +The Marigolde, and cherefull Rosemarie; +The Spartan Mirtle, whence sweet gumb does flowe; +The purple Hyacinths, and fresh Costmarie, 670 +And Saffron, sought for in Cilician soyle, +And Lawrell, th’ornament of Phoebus toyle: + + +Fresh Rhododaphne, and the Sabine flowre*, +Matching the wealth of th’auncient Frankincence; +And pallid Yvie, building his owne bowre; 675 +And Box, yet mindfull of his olde offence; +Red Amaranthus, lucklesse paramour; +Oxeye still greene, and bitter Patience; +Ne wants there pale Narcisse, that, in a well +Seeing his beautie, in love with it fell. 680 + [* _Sabine flowre_, a kind of juniper, the savine.] + + +And whatsoever other flowre of worth, +And whatso other hearb of lovely hew +The ioyous Spring out of the ground brings forth, +To cloath her selfe in colours fresh and new, +He planted there, and reard a mount of earth, 685 +In whose high front was writ as doth ensue: + + +_To thee, small Gnat, in lieu of his life saved,_ _The Shepheard hath +thy deaths record engraved._ + + +FOOTNOTES: + + +VIRGILS GNAT. This is a very skilful elaboration of the Culex, a poem +attributed, without reason, to Virgil. The original, which is crabbed +and pedantic, where it is not unintelligible from corruption, is here +rendered with sufficient fidelity to the sense, but with such +perspicuity, elegance, and sweetness, as to make Spenser’s performance +too good a poem to be called a translation. C. + + + + +PROSOPOPOIA: + +OR MOTHER HUBBERDS TALE. + +BY ED. SP. + +DEDICATED TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE, + +THE LADIE COMPTON AND MOUNTEGLE. + + + + +LONDON. +IMPRINTED FOR WILLIAM PONSONBIE, +DWELLING IN PAULES CHURCHYARD +AT THE SIGNE OF THE +BISHOPS HEAD. +1591. + +TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, + +THE LADIE COMPTON AND MOUNTEGLE.[*] + + +Most faire and vertuous Ladie: having often sought opportunitie by some +good meanes to make knowen to your Ladiship the humble affection and +faithfull duetie which I have alwaies professed, and am bound to beare, +to that house from whence yee spring, I have at length found occasion +to remember the same by making a simple present to you of these my idle +labours; which having long sithens composed in the raw conceipt of my +youth, I lately amongst other papers lighted upon, and was by others, +which liked the same, mooved to set them foorth. Simple is the device, +and the composition meane, yet carrieth some delight, even the rather +because of the simplicitie and meannesse thus personated. The same I +beseech your Ladiship take in good part, as a pledge of that profession +which I have made to you, and keepe with you untill with some other +more worthie labour redeeme it out of your hands, and discharge my +utmost dutie. Till then, wishing your Ladiship all increase of honour +and happinesse, I humblie take leave. + + +Your La: ever humbly, + ED. SP. + + +[* “This lady was Anne, the fifth daughter of Sir John Spencer, +distinguished also, in the pastoral of _Colin Clouts come Home again_, +by the name of _Charillis_. She was married, first to Sir William +Stanley, Lord Mountegle; next to Henry Compton, Lord Compton; and +lastly to Robert Sackvilie, Lord Buckhurst, afterwards Earl of +Dorset.”—TODD.] + + +PROSOPOPOIA: + +OR + +MOTHER HUBBERDS TALE. + + +It was the month in which the righteous Maide +That for disdaine of sinfull worlds upbraide +Fled back to heaven, whence she was first conceived, +Into her silver bowre the Sunne received; +And the hot Syrian Dog on him awayting, 5 +After the chafed Lyons cruell bayting, +Corrupted had th’ayre with his noysome breath. +And powr’d on th’earth plague, pestilence, and death. +Emongst the rest a wicked maladie +Raign’d emongst men, that manie did to die, 10 +Depriv’d of sense and ordinarie reason; +That it to leaches seemed strange and geason. + [_Geason_, rare.] +My fortune was, mongst manie others moe, +To be partaker of their common woe; +And my weake bodie, set on fire with griefe, 15 +Was rob’d of rest and naturall reliefe. +In this ill plight, there came to visite mee +Some friends, who, sorie my sad case to see, +Began to comfort me in chearfull wise, +And meanes of gladsome solace to devise. 20 +But seeing kindly sleep refuse to doe +His office, and my feeble eyes forgoe, +They sought my troubled sense how to deceave +With talke that might unquiet fancies reave; + [_Reave_, take away.] +And sitting all in seates about me round, 25 +With pleasant tales fit for that idle stound + [_Stound_, time.] +They cast in course to waste the wearie howres. +Some tolde of ladies, and their paramoures; +Some of brave knights, and their renowned squires; +Some of the faeries and their strange attires; 30 +And some of giaunts hard to be beleeved; +That the delight thereof me much releeved. +Amongst the rest a good old woman was, +Hight Mother Hubberd, who did farre surpas +The rest in honest mirth, that seem’d her well. 35 +She, when her turne was come her tale to tell, +Tolde of a strange adventure that betided +Betwixt the Foxe and th’Ape by him misguided; +The which, for that my sense it greatly pleased, +All were my spirite heavie and diseased, 40 +Ile write in termes, as she the same did say, +So well as I her words remember may. +No Muses aide me needes heretoo to call; +Base is the style, and matter meane withall. + [_Base_, humble.] +Whilome, said she, before the world was civill, +The Foxe and th’Ape, disliking of their evill 46 +And hard estate, determined to seeke +Their fortunes farre abroad, lyeke with his lyeke: +For both were craftie and unhappie witted; + [_Unhappie_, mischievous.] +Two fellowes might no where be better fitted. 50 +The Foxe, that first this cause of griefe did finde, +Gan first thus plaine his case with words unkinde: +“Neighbour Ape, and my gossip eke beside, +(Both two sure bands in friendship to be tide,) +To whom may I more trustely complaine 55 +The evill plight that doth me sore constraine, +And hope thereof to finde due remedie? +Heare then my paine and inward agonie. +Thus manie yeares I now have spent and worne, +In meane regard, and basest fortunes scorne, 60 +Dooing my countrey service as I might, +No lesse I dare saie than the prowdest wight; +And still I hoped to be up advaunced +For my good parts; but still it hath mischaunced. +Now therefore that no lenger hope I see, 65 +But froward fortune still to follow mee, +And losels lifted up on high, where I did looke, + [_Losels_, worthless fellows.] +I meane to turne the next leafe of the booke. +Yet ere that anie way I doe betake, +I meane my gossip privie first to make.” 70 +“Ah! my deare gossip,” answer’d then the Ape, +“Deeply doo your sad words my wits awhape, + [_Awhape_, astound.] +Both for because your griefe doth great appeare, +And eke because my selfe am touched neare: +For I likewise have wasted much good time, 75 +Still wayting to preferment up to clime, +Whilst others alwayes have before me stept, +And from my beard the fat away have swept; +That now unto despaire I gin to growe, +And meane for better winde about to throwe. 80 +Therefore to me, my trustie friend, aread + [_Aread_, declare.] +Thy councell: two is better than one head.” +“Certes,” said he, “I meane me to disguize +In some straunge habit, after uncouth wize, +Or like a pilgrime, or a lymiter, 85 + [_Lymiter_, I.e. a friar licensed to beg within a + certain district.] +Or like a gipsen, or a iuggeler, + [_Gipsen_, gypsy.] +And so to wander to the worlds ende, +To seeke my fortune, where I may it mend: +For worse than that I have I cannot meete. +Wide is the world I wote, and everie streete 90 +Is full of fortunes and adventures straunge, +Continuallie subiect unto chaunge. +Say, my faire brother now, if this device +Doth like you, or may you to like entice.” +“Surely,” said th’Ape, “it likes me wondrous well; +95 +And would ye not poore fellowship expell, +My selfe would offer you t’accompanie +In this adventures chauncefull ieopardie. +For to wexe olde at home in idlenesse +Is disadventrous, and quite fortunelesse: 100 +Abroad, where change is, good may gotten bee.” +The Foxe was glad, and quickly did agree: +So both resolv’d, the morrow next ensuing, +So soone as day appeard to peoples vewing, +On their intended iourney to proceede; 105 +And over night, whatso theretoo did neede +Each did prepare, in readines to bee. +The morrow next, so soone as one might see +Light out of heavens windowes forth to looke, +Both their habiliments unto them tooke, 110 +And put themselves, a Gods name, on their way. +Whenas the Ape, beginning well to wey +This hard adventure, thus began t’advise: +“Now read, Sir Reynold, as ye be right wise, +What course ye weene is best for us to take, 115 +That for our selves we may a living make. +Whether shall we professe some trade or skill? +Or shall we varie our device at will, +Even as new occasion appeares? +Or shall we tie our selves for certaine yeares 120 +To anie service, or to anie place? +For it behoves, ere that into the race +We enter, to resolve first hereupon.” +“Now surely, brother,” said the Foxe anon, +“Te have this matter motioned in season: 125 +For everie thing that is begun with reason +Will come by readie meanes unto his end; +But things miscounselled must needs miswend. + [_Miswend_, go wrong.] +Thus therefore I advize upon the case: +That not to anie certaine trade or place, 130 +Nor anie man, we should our selves applie. +For why should he that is at libertie +Make himselfe bond? Sith then we are free borne. +Let us all servile base subiection scorne; +And as we bee sonnes of the world so wide, 135 +Let us our fathers heritage divide, +And chalenge to our selves our portions dew +Of all the patrimonie, which a few +Now hold in hugger mugger in their hand, + [_In hugger mugger_, in secret] +And all the rest doo rob of good and land: 140 +For now a few have all, and all have nought, +Yet all be brethren ylike dearly bought. +There is no right in this partition, +Ne was it so by institution +Ordained first, ne by the law of Nature, 145 +But that she gave like blessing to each creture +As well of worldly livelode as of life, +That there might be no difference nor strife, +Nor ought cald mine or thine: thrice happie then +Was the condition of mortall men. 150 +That was the golden age of Saturne old, +But this might better be the world of gold; +For without golde now nothing wilbe got. +Therefore, if please you, this shalbe our plot: +We will not be of anie occupation; 155 +Let such vile vassalls, borne to base vocation, +Drudge in the world and for their living droyle, + [_Droyle_, moil] +Which have no wit to live withouten toyle. +But we will walke about the world at pleasure, +Like two free men, and make our ease our treasure. +Free men some beggers call; but they be free; 161 +And they which call them so more beggers bee: +For they doo swinke and sweate to feed the other, + [_Swinke_, toil.] +Who live like lords of that which they doo gather, +And yet doo never thanke them for the same, 165 +But as their due by nature doo it clame. +Such will we fashion both our selves to bee, +Lords of the world; and so will wander free +Where so us listeth, uncontrol’d of anie. +Hard is our hap, if we, emongst so manie, 170 +Light not on some that may our state amend; +Sildome but some good commeth ere the end.” +Well seemd the Ape to like this ordinaunce: +Yet, well considering of the circumstaunce, +As pausing in great doubt awhile he staid, 175 +And afterwards with grave advizement said: +“I cannot, my lief brother, like but well + [_Lief_, dear.] +The purpose of the complot which ye tell; +For well I wot (compar’d to all the rest +Of each degree) that beggers life is best, 180 +And they that thinke themselves the best of all +Oft-times to begging are content to fall. +But this I wot withall, that we shall ronne +Into great daunger, like to bee undonne, +Thus wildly to wander in the worlds eye, 185 +Withouten pasport or good warrantye, +For feare least we like rogues should be reputed, +And for eare-marked beasts abroad be bruted. +Therefore I read that we our counsells call +How to prevent this mischiefe ere it fall, 190 +And how we may, with most securitie, +Beg amongst those that beggars doo defie.” +“Right well, deere gossip, ye advized have,” +Said then the Foxe, “but I this doubt will save: +For ere we farther passe, I will devise 195 +A pasport for us both in fittest wize, +And by the names of souldiers us protect, +That now is thought a civile begging sect. +Be you the souldier, for you likest are +For manly semblance, and small skill in warre: 200 +I will but wayte on you, and, as occasion +Falls out, my selfe fit for the same will fashion.” +The pasport ended, both they forward went; +The Ape clad souldierlike, fit for th’intent, +In a blew iacket with a crosse of redd 205 +And manie slits, as if that he had shedd +Much blood throgh many wounds therein receaved, +Which had the use of his right arme bereaved, +Upon his head an old Scotch cap he wore, +With a plume feather all to peeces tore; 210 +His breeches were made after the new cut, +_Al Portugese_, loose like an emptie gut, +And his hose broken high above the heeling, +And his shooes beaten out with traveling. +But neither sword nor dagger he did beare; 215 +Seemes that no foes revengement he did feare; +In stead of them a handsome bat he held, + [_Bat_, stick.] +On which he leaned, as one farre in elde. + [_Elde_, age.] +Shame light on him, that through so false illusion +Doth turne the name of souldiers to abusion, 220 +And that which is the noblest mysterie + [_Mysterie_, profession.] +Brings to reproach and common infamie! +Long they thus travailed, yet never met +Adventure which might them a working set: +Yet manie waies they sought, and manie tryed; 225 +Yet for their purposes none fit espyed. +At last they chaunst to meete upon the way +A simple husbandman in garments gray; +Yet, though his vesture were but meane and bace, + [_Bace_, humble.] +A good yeoman he was of honest place, 230 +And more for thrift did care than for gay clothing: +Gay without good is good hearts greatest loathing. +The Foxe, him spying, bad the Ape him dight + [_Dight_, prepare.] +To play his part, for loe! he was in sight +That, if he er’d not, should them entertaine, 235 +And yeeld them timely profite for their paine. +Eftsoones the Ape himselfe gan up to reare, + [_Eftsoones_, straightway.] +And on his shoulders high his bat to beare, +As if good service he were fit to doo, +But little thrift for him he did it too: 240 +And stoutly forward he his steps did straine, +That like a handsome swaine it him became. +When as they nigh approached, that good man, +Seeing them wander loosly, first began +T’enquire, of custome, what and whence they were. +To whom the Ape: “I am a souldiere, 246 +That late in warres have spent my deerest blood, +And in long service lost both limbs and good; +And now, constraint that trade to overgive, +I driven am to seeke some meanes to live: 250 +Which might it you in pitie please t’afford, +I would be readie, both in deed and word, +To doo you faithfull service all my dayes. +This yron world” (that same he weeping sayes) +“Brings downe the stowtest hearts to lowest state: +255 +For miserie doth bravest mindes abate, +And make them seeke for that they wont to scorne, +Of fortune and of hope at once forlorne.” + [_Forlorne_, deserted.] +The honest roan that heard him thus complaine +Was griev’d as he had felt part of his paine; 260 +And, well dispos’d him some reliefe to showe, +Askt if in husbandrie he ought did knowe,— +To plough, to plant, to reap, to rake, to sowe, +To hedge, to ditch, to thrash, to thetch, to mowe; +Or to what labour els he was prepar’d: 265 +For husbands life is labourous and hard. + [_Husbands_, husbandman’s.] +Whenas the Ape him hard so much to talke +Of labour, that did from his liking balke, +He would have slipt the coller handsomly, +And to him said: “Good Sir, full glad am I 270 +To take what paines may anie living wight: +But my late maymed limbs lack wonted might +To doo their kindly services, as needeth: + [_Kindly_, natural.] +Scarce this right hand the mouth with diet feedeth; +So that it may no painfull worke endure, 275 +Ne to strong labour can it selfe enure. +But if that anie other place you have, +Which askes small paines, but thriftines to save, +Or care to overlooke, or trust to gather, +Ye may me trust as your owne ghostly father.” 280 +With that the husbandman gan him avize, +That it for him were fittest exercise +Cattell to keep, or grounds to oversee; +And asked him, if he could willing bee +To keep his sheep, or to attend his swyne, 285 +Or watch his mares, or take his charge of kyne. +“Gladly,” said he, “what ever such like paine +Ye put on me, I will the same sustaine: +But gladliest I of your fleecie sheepe +(Might it you please) would take on me the keep. 290 +For ere that unto armes I me betooke, +Unto my fathers sheepe I usde to looke, +That yet the skill thereof I have not loste: +Thereto right well this curdog, by my coste, +(Meaning the Foxe,) will serve my sheepe to gather, +And drive to follow after their belwether.” 295 +The husbandman was meanly well content + [_Meanly_, humbly.] +Triall to make of his endevourment; +And, home him leading, lent to him the charge +Of all his flocke, with libertie full large, 300 +Giving accompt of th’annuall increce +Both of their lambes, and of their woolly fleece. +Thus is this Ape become a shepheard swaine, +And the false Foxe his dog: God give them paine! +For ere the yeare have halfe his course out-run, 305 +And doo returne from whence he first begun, +They shall him make an ill accompt of thrift. +Now whenas time, flying with wingës swift, +Expired had the terme that these two iavels + [_Iavels,_ worthless fellows.] +Should render up a reckning of their travels 310 +Unto their master, which it of them sought, +Exceedingly they troubled were in thought, +Ne wist what answere unto him to frame, +Ne how to scape great punishment, or shame, +For their false treason and vile theeverie: 315 +For not a lambe of all their flockes-supply +Had they to shew; but ever as they bred, +They slue them, and upon their fleshes fed: +For that disguised dog lov’d blood to spill, +And drew the wicked shepheard to his will. 320 +So twixt them both they not a lambkin left; +And when lambes fail’d, the old sheepes lives they reft; +That how t’acquite themselves unto their lord +They were in doubt, and flatly set abord. + [_Set abord_, set adrift, at a loss.] +The Foxe then counsel’d th’Ape for to require 325 +Respite till morrow t’answere his desire: +For times delay new hope of helpe still breeds. +The good man granted, doubting nought their deeds, +And bad next day that all should readie be. +But they more subtill meaning had than he: 330 +For the next morrowes meed they closely ment, + [_Closely_, secretly.] +For feare of afterclaps, for to prevent: + [_Prevent_, anticipate.] +And that same evening, when all shrowded were +In careles sleep, they without care or feare +Cruelly fell upon their flock in folde, 335 +And of them slew at pleasure what they wolde. +Of which whenas they feasted had their fill, +For a full complement of all their ill, +They stole away, and tooke their hastie flight, +Carried in clowdes of all-concealing night. 340 +So was the husbandman left to his losse, +And they unto their fortunes change to tosse. +After which sort they wandered long while, +Abusing manie through their cloaked guile; +That at the last they gan to be descryed 345 +Of everie one, and all their sleights espyed; +So as their begging now them failed quyte, +For none would give, but all men would them wyte. + [_Wyte_, blame.] +Yet would they take no paines to get their living, +But seeke some other way to gaine by giving, 350 +Much like to begging, but much better named; +For manie beg which are thereof ashamed. +And now the Foxe had gotten him a gowne, +And th’Ape a cassocke sidelong hanging downe; +For they their occupation meant to change, 355 +And now in other state abroad to range: +For since their souldiers pas no better spedd, +They forg’d another, as for clerkes booke-redd. +Who passing foorth, as their adventures fell, +Through manie haps, which needs not here to tell, +360 +At length chaunst with a formall Priest to meete, + [_Formall_, regular.] +Whom they in civill manner first did greete, +And after askt an almes for Gods deare love. +The man straightway his choler up did move, +And with reproachfull tearmes gan them revile, 365 +For following that trade so base and vile; +And askt what license or what pas they had. +“Ah!” said the Ape, as sighing wondrous sad, +“Its an hard case, when men of good deserving +Must either driven be perforce to sterving, 370 +Or asked for their pas by everie squib, + [_Squib_, flashy, pretentious fellow] +That list at will them to revile or snib. + [_Snib_, snub] +And yet (God wote) small oddes I often see +Twixt them that aske, and them that asked bee. +Natheles because you shall not us misdeeme, 375 +But that we are as honest as we seeme, +Yee shall our pasport at your pleasure see, +And then ye will (I hope) well mooved bee.” +Which when the Priest beheld, he vew’d it nere, +As if therein some text he studying were, 380 +But little els (God wote) could thereof skill: + [_Skill_, understand.] +For read he could not evidence nor will, +Ne tell a written word, ne write a letter, +Ne make one title worse, ne make one better. +Of such deep learning little had he neede, 385 +Ne yet of Latine ne of Greeke, that breede +Doubts mongst divines, and difference of texts, +From whence arise diversitie of sects, +And hatefull heresies, of God abhor’d. +But this good Sir did follow the plaine word, 390 +Ne medled with their controversies vaine; +All his care was his service well to saine, + [_Saine_, say.] +And to read homelies upon holidayes; +When that was done, he might attend his playes: +An easie life, and fit high God to please. 395 +He, having overlookt their pas at ease, +Gan at the length them to rebuke againe, +That no good trade of life did entertaine, +But lost their time in wandring loose abroad; +Seeing the world, in which they bootles boad, 400 + [_Bootless boad_, dwelt unprofitably.] +Had wayes enough for all therein to live; +Such grace did God unto his creatures give. +Said then the Foxe: “Who hath the world not tride +From the right way full eath may wander wide. + [_Eath_, easy.] +We are but novices, new come abroad, 405 +We have not yet the tract of anie troad, + [I.e. routine of any way of life.] +Nor on us taken anie state of life, +But readie are of anie to make preife. + [_Preife_, proof.] +Therefore might please you, which the world have proved, +Us to advise, which forth but lately moved, 410 +Of some good course that we might undertake, +Ye shall for ever us your bondmen make.” +The priest gan wexe halfe proud to be so praide, +And thereby willing to affoord them aide, +“It seemes,” said he, “right well that ye be clerks, +415 +Both by your wittie words and by your works. +Is not that name enough to make a living +To him that hath a whit of Natures giving? +How manie honest men see ye arize +Daylie thereby, and grow to goodly prize; 420 +To deanes, to archdeacons, to commissaries, +To lords, to principalls, to prebendaries? +All iolly prelates, worthie rule to beare, +Who ever them envie: yet spite bites neare. +Why should ye doubt, then, but that ye likewise 425 +Might unto some of those in time arise? +In the meane time to live in good estate, +Loving that love, and hating those that hate; +Being some honest curate, or some vicker, +Content with little in condition sicker.” 430 + [_Sicker_, sure.] +“Ah! but,” said th’Ape, “the charge is wondrous great, +To feed mens soules, and hath an heavie threat.” +“To feede mens soules,” quoth he, “is not in man: +For they must feed themselves, doo what we can. +We are but charg’d to lay the meate before: 435 +Eate they that list, we need to doo no more. +But God it is that feedes them with his grace, +The bread of life powr’d downe from heavenly place. +Therefore said he that with the budding rod +Did rule the lewes, _All shalbe taught of God._ 440 +That same hath Iesus Christ now to him raught, + [_Raught_, reached, taken.] +By whom the flock is rightly fed and taught: +He is the shcpheard, and the priest is hee; +We but his shepheard swaines ordain’d to bee. +Therefore herewith doo not your selfe dismay; 445 +Ne is the paines so great, but beare ye may; +For not so great, as it was wont of yore, +It’s now a dayes, ne halfe so streight and sore. +They whilome used duly everie day +Their service and their holie things to say, 450 +At morne and even, beside their anthemes sweete, +Their penie masses, and their complynes meete, + [_Complynes_, even-song; the last service of the + day.] +Their diriges, their trentals, and their shrifts, + [_Trentals_, thirty masses for the dead.] +Their memories, their singings, and their gifts. + [_Memories_, services for the dead.] +Now all those needlesse works are laid away; 455 +Now once a weeke, upon the Sabbath day, +It is enough to doo our small devotion, +And then to follow any merrie motion. +Ne are we tyde to fast, but when we list; +Ne to weare garments base of wollen twist, 460 +But with the finest silkes us to aray, +That before God we may appeare more gay, +Resembling Aarons glorie in his place: +For farre unfit it is, that person bace +Should with vile cloaths approach Gods maiestie, 465 +Whom no uncleannes may approachen nie; +Or that all men, which anie master serve, +Good garments for their service should deserve, +But he that serves the Lord of Hoasts Most High, +And that in highest place, t’approach him nigh, 470 +And all the peoples prayers to present +Before his throne, as on ambassage sent +Both too and fro, should not deserve to weare +A garment better than of wooll or heare. +Beside, we may have lying by our sides 475 +Our lovely lasses, or bright shining brides; +We be not tyde to wilfull chastitie, +But have the gospell of free libertie.” +By that he ended had his ghostly sermon, +The Foxe was well induc’d to be a parson; 480 +And of the priest eftsoones gan to enquire +How to a benefice he might aspire. +“Marie, there,” said the priest, “is arte indeed: +Much good deep learning one thereout may reed; +For that the ground-worke is, and end of all, 485 +How to obtaine a beneficiall. +First, therefore, when ye have in handsome wise +Your selfe attyred, as you can devise, +Then to some nobleman your selfe applye, +Or other great one in the worldës eye, 490 +That hath a zealous disposition +To God, and so to his religion. +There must thou fashion eke a godly zeale, +Such as no carpers may contrayre reveale: +For each thing fained ought more warie bee. 495 +There thou must walke in sober gravitee, +And seeme as saintlike as Saint Radegund: +Fast much, pray oft, looke lowly on the ground, +And unto everie one doo curtesie meeke: +These lookes (nought saying) doo a benefice seeke, +And be thou sure one not to lacke or long. 501 + [_Or_, ere.] +But if thee list unto the Court to throng, +And there to hunt after the hoped pray, +Then must thou thee dispose another way +For there thou needs must learne to laugh, to lie, +505 +To face, to forge, to scoffe, to companie, +To crouche, to please, to be a beetle-stock +Of thy great masters will, to scorne, or mock: +So maist thou chaunce mock out a benefice, +Unlesse thou canst one coniure by device, 510 +Or cast a figure for a bishoprick: +And if one could, it were but a schoole trick. +These be the wayes by which without reward +Livings in court he gotten, though full hard; +For nothing there is done without a fee: 515 +The courtier needes must recompenced bee +With a benevolence, or have in gage + [_Gage_, pledge.] +The primitias of your parsonage: + [_Primitias_, first-fruits.] +Scarse can a bishoprick forpas them by, +But that it must be gelt in privitie. 520 +Doo not thou therefore seeke a living there, +But of more private persons seeke elswhere, +Whereas thou maist compound a better penie, +Ne let thy learning question’d be of anie. +For some good gentleman, that hath the right 525 +Unto his church for to present a wight, +Will cope with thee in reasonable wise, + [_Cope_, bargain.] +That if the living yerely doo arise +To fortie pound, that then his yongest sonne +Shall twentie have, and twentie thou hast wonne: 530 +Thou hast it wonne, for it is of franke gift +And he will care for all the rest to shift; +Both that the bishop may admit of thee, +And that therein thou maist maintained bee. +This is the way for one that is unlern’d 535 +Living to get, and not to be discern’d. +But they that are great clerkes have nearer wayes +For learning sake to living them to raise: +Yet manie eke of them (God wote) are driven +T’accept a benefice in peeces riven.— 540 +How saist thou, friend, have I not well discourst +Upon this common-place, though plaine, not wourst? +Better a short tale than a bad long shriving: +Needes anie more to learne to get a living?” +“Now sure, and by my hallidome,” quoth he 545 +“Yea great master are in your degree: +Great thankes I yeeld you for your discipline, +And doo not doubt but duly to encline +My wits theretoo, as ye shall shortly heare.” +The priest him wisht good speed and well to fare: +550 +So parted they, as eithers way them led. +But th’Ape and Foxe ere long so well them sped, +Through the priests holesome counsell lately tought, +And throgh their owne faire handling wisely wroght, +That they a benefice twixt them obtained, 555 +And craftie Reynold was a priest ordained, +And th’Ape his parish clarke procur’d to bee: +Then made they revell route and goodly glee. +But, ere long time had passed, they so ill +Did order their affaires, that th’evill will 560 +Of all their parishners they had constraind; +Who to the ordinarie of them complain’d, +How fowlie they their offices abusd, +And them of crimes and heresies accusd; +That pursivants he often for them sent. 565 +But they neglected his commaundëment; +So long persisted obstinate and bolde, +Till at the length he published to holde +A visitation, and them cyted thether. +Then was high time their wits about to geather; 570 +What did they then, but made a composition +With their next neighbor priest for light condition, +To whom their living they resigned quight +For a few pence, and ran away by night. +So passing through the countrey in disguize, 575 +They fled farre off, where none might them surprize, +And after that long straied here and there, +Through everie field and forrest farre and nere; +Yet never found occasion for their tourne, +But, almost sterv’d, did much lament and mourne. 580 +At last they chaunst to meete upon the way +The Mule, all deckt in goodly rich aray, +With bells and bosses that full lowdly rung, +And costly trappings that to ground downe hung. +Lowly they him saluted in meeke wise; 585 +But he through pride and fatnes gan despise +Their meanesse; scarce vouchsafte them to requite. +Whereat the Foxe deep groning in his sprite, +Said: “Ah! Sir Mule, now blessed be the day +That I see you so goodly and so gay 590 +In your attyres, and eke your silken hyde +Fil’d with round flesh, that everie bone doth hide. +Seemes that in fruitfull pastures ye doo live, +Or fortune doth you secret favour give.” +“Foolish Foxe!” said the Mule, “thy wretched need +Praiseth the thing that doth thy sorrow breed. 596 +For well I weene thou canst not but envie +My wealth, compar’d to thine owne miserie, +That art so leane and meagre waxen late +That scarse thy legs uphold thy feeble gate.” 600 +“Ay me!” said then the Foxe, “whom evill hap +Unworthy in such wretchednes doth wrap, +And makes the scorne of other beasts to bee. +But read, faire Sir, of grace, from whence come yee; +Or what of tidings you abroad doo heare; 605 +Newes may perhaps some good unweeting beare.” +“From royall court I lately came,” said he, +“Where all the braverie that eye may see, +And all the happinesse that heart desire, +Is to be found; he nothing can admire, 610 +That hath not seene that heavens portracture. +But tidings there is none, I you assure, +Save that which common is, and knowne to all, +That courtiers as the tide doo rise and fall.” +“But tell us,” said the Ape, “we doo you pray, 615 +Who now in court doth beare the greatest sway: +That, if such fortune doo to us befall, +We may seeke favour of the best of all.” +“Marie,” said he, “the highest now in grace, +Be the wilde beasts, that swiftest are in chase; 620 +For in their speedie course and nimble flight +The Lyon now doth take the most delight: +But chieflie ioyes on foote them to beholde, +Enchaste with chaine and circulet of golde: + [_Enchaste_, adorned.] +So wilde a beaste so tame ytaught to bee, 625 +And buxome to his bands, is ioy to see; + [_Buxome_, obedient.] +So well his golden circlet him beseemeth. +But his late chayne his Liege unmeete esteemeth; +For so brave beasts she loveth best to see + [She: I.e. the queen.] +In the wilde forrest raunging fresh and free. 630 +Therefore if fortune thee in court to live, +In case thou ever there wilt hope to thrive, +To some of these thou must thy selfe apply; +Els as a thistle-downe in th’ayre doth flie, +So vainly shalt thou too and fro be tost, 635 +And loose thy labour and thy fruitles cost. +And yet full few which follow them I see +For vertues bare regard advaunced bee, +But either for some gainfull benefit, +Or that they may for their owne turnes be fit. 640 +Nath’les, perhaps ye things may handle soe, +That ye may better thrive than thousands moe.” +“But,” said the Ape, “how shall we first come in, +That after we may favour seeke to win?” +“How els,” said he, “but with a good bold face, 645 +And with big words, and with a stately pace, +That men may thinke of you in generall +That to be in you which is not at all: +For not by that which is the world now deemeth, +(As it was wont) but by that same that seemeth. 650 +Ne do I doubt but that ye well can fashion +Your selves theretoo, according to occasion. +So fare ye well: good courtiers may ye bee!” +So, proudlie neighing, from them parted hee. +Then gan this craftie couple to devize, 655 +How for the court themselves they might aguize: + [_Aguize_, decorate.] +For thither they themselves meant to addresse, +In hope to finde there happier successe. +So well they shifted, that the Ape anon +Himselfe had cloathed like a gentleman, 660 +And the slie Foxe as like to be his groome; +That to the court in seemly sort they come. +Where the fond Ape, himselfe uprearing by +Upon his tiptoes, stalketh stately by, +As if he were some great magnifico, 665 +And boldlie doth amongst the boldest go; +And his man Reynold, with fine counterfesaunce, + [_Counterfesaunce_, counterfeiting.] +Supports his credite and his countenaunce. +Then gan the courtiers gaze on everie side, +And stare on him with big looks basen wide, 670 + [_Basen_, swelled.] +Wondring what mister wight he was, and whence; + [_Mister wight_, sort of creature.] +For he was clad in strange accoustrements, +Fashion’d with queint devises never seene +In court before, yet there all fashions beene; +Yet he them in newfanglenesse did pas. 675 +But his behaviour altogether was +_Alla Turchesca,_ much the more admyr’d; + [_Alla Turchesca_, in the Turkish fashion.] +And his lookes loftie, as if he aspyr’d +To dignitie, and sdeign’d the low degree; +That all which did such strangenesse in him see 680 +By secrete meanes gan of his state enquire, +And privily his servant thereto hire: +Who, throughly arm’d against such coverture, + [_Coverture_, underhand dealing.] +Reported unto all that he was sure +A noble gentleman of high regard, 685 +Which through the world had with long travel far’d, +And seene the manners of all beasts on ground, +Now here arriv’d to see if like he found. +Thus did the Ape at first him credit gaine, +Which afterwards he wisely did maintaine 690 +With gallant showe, and daylie more augment +Through his fine feates and courtly complement; +For he could play, and daunce, and vaute, and spring, +And all that els pertaines to reveling. +Onely through kindly aptnes of his ioynts. 695 + [_Kindly_, natural.] +Besides he could doo manie other poynts, +The which in court him served to good stead: +For he mongst ladies could their fortunes read +Out of their hands, and merie leasings tell, +And iuggle finely, that became him well. 700 +But he so light was at legierdemaine, +That what he toucht came not to light againe; +Yet would he laugh it out, and proudly looke, +And tell them that they greatly him mistooke. +So would he scoffe them out with mockcrie, 705 +For he therein had great felicitie; +And with sharp quips ioy’d others to deface, +Thinking that their disgracing did him grace: +So whilst that other like vaine wits he pleased +And made to laugh, his heart was greatly eased. 710 +But the right gentle minde woulde bite his lip, +To heare the iavell so good men to nip: + [_Iavell_, worthless fellow.] +For, though the vulgar yeeld an open eare, +And common courtiers love to gybe and fleare +At everie thing which they heare spoken ill, 715 +And the best speaches with ill meaning spill, + [_Spill_, spoil.] +Yet the brave courtier, in whose beauteous thought +Regard of honour harbours more than ought, +Doth loath such base condition, to backbite + [_Condition_, quality.] +Anies good name for envie or despite. 720 +He stands on tearmes of honourable minde, +Ne will be carried with the common winde +Of courts inconstant mutabilitie, +Ne after everie tattling fable flie; +But heares and sees the follies of the rest, 725 +And thereof gathers for himselfe the best. +He will not creepe, nor crouche with fained face, +But walkes upright with comely stedfast pace, +And unto all doth yeeld due curtesie; +But not with kissed hand belowe the knee, 730 +As that same apish crue is wont to doo: +For he disdaines himselfe t’embase theretoo. +He hates fowle leasings and vile flatterie, +Two filthie blots in noble gentrie; +And lothefull idlenes he doth detest, 735 +The canker worme of everie gentle brest; +The which to banish with faire exercise +Of knightly feates he daylie doth devise: +Now menaging the mouthes of stubborne steedes, +Now practising the proofe of warlike deedes, 740 +Now his bright armes assaying, now his speare, +Now the nigh aymed ring away to beare: +At other times he casts to sew the chace + [_Casts_, plans, makes arrangements.] +Of Swift wilde beasts, or runne on foote a race, +T’enlarge his breath, (large breath in armes most needfull,) + 745 +Or els by wrestling to wex strong and heedfull, +Or his stiffe armes to stretch with eughen bowe, + [_Eughen_, made of yew.] +And manly legs, still passing too and fro, +Without a gowned beast him fast beside; +A vaine ensample of the Persian pride, 750 +Who after he had wonne th’Assyrian foe, +Did ever after scorne on foote to goe. +Thus when this courtly gentleman with toyle +Himselfe hath wearied, he doth recoyle +Unto his rest, and there with sweete delight 755 +Of musicks skill revives his toyled spright; +Or els with loves and ladies gentle sports, +The ioy of youth, himselfe he recomforts: +Or lastly, when the bodie list to pause, +His minde unto the Muses he withdrawes, 760 +Sweete Ladie Muses, ladies of delight, +Delights of life, and ornaments of light: +With whom he close confers with wise discourse, +Of Natures workes, of heavens continuall course, +Of forreine lands, of people different, 765 +Of kingdomes change, of divers gouvernment, +Of dreadfull battailes of renowmed knights; +With which he kindleth his ambitious sprights +To like desire and praise of noble fame, +The onely upshot whereto he doth ayme. 770 +For all his minde on honour fixed is, +To which he levels all his purposis, +And in his Princes service spends his dayes, +Not so much for to game, or for to raise +Himselfe to high degree, as for his grace, 775 +And in his liking to winne worthie place, +Through due deserts and comely carriage, +In whatso please employ his personage, +That may be matter meete to game him praise. +For he is fit to use in all assayes, 780 +Whether for armes and warlike amenaunce, + [_Amenaunce_, conduct.] +Or else for wise and civill governaunce; +For he is practiz’d well in policie, +And thereto doth his courting most applie: + [_Courting_, life at court.] +To learne the enterdeale of princes strange, 785 + [_Enterdeale_, dealing together.] +To marke th’intent of counsells, and the change +Of states, and eke of private men somewhile, +Supplanted by fine falshood and faire guile; +Of all the which he gathereth what is fit +T’enrich the storehouse of his powerfull wit, 790 +Which through wise speaches and grave conference +He daylie eekes, and brings to excellence. + [_Eekes_, increases.] +Such is the rightfull courtier in his kinde: +But unto such the Ape lent not his minde; +Such were for him no fit companions, 795 +Such would descrie his lewd conditions: +But the yong lustie gallants he did chose +To follow, meete to whom he might disclose +His witlesse pleasance and ill pleasing vaine. +A thousand wayes he them could entertaine, 800 +With all the thriftles games that may be found; +With mumming and with masking all around, +With dice, with cards, with balliards farre unfit, + [_Balliards_, billiards.] +With shuttelcocks, misseeming manlie wit, + [_Misseeming_, unbecoming.] +With courtizans, and costly riotize, 805 +Whereof still somewhat to his share did rize: +Ne, them to pleasure, would he sometimes scorne +A pandares coate (so basely was he borne); +Thereto he could fine loving verses frame, +And play the poet oft. But ah! for shame, 810 +Let not sweete poets praise, whose onely pride +Is vertue to advaunce, and vice deride, +Be with the worke of losels wit defamed, +Ne let such verses poetrie be named! +Yet he the name on him would rashly take, 815 +Maugre the sacred Muses, and it make +A servant to the vile affection +Of such as he depended most upon; +And with the sugrie sweete thereof allure +Chast ladies eares to fantasies impure. 820 +To such delights the noble wits he led +Which him reliev’d, and their vaine humours fed +With fruitles folies and unsound delights. +But if perhaps into their noble sprights +Desire of honor or brave thought of armes 825 +Did ever creepe, then with his wicked charmes +And strong conceipts he would it drive away, +Ne suffer it to house there halfe a day. +And whenso love of letters did inspire +Their gentle wits, and kindly wise desire, 830 + [Kindly: Qu. _kindle?_] +That chieflie doth each noble minde adorne, +Then he would scoffe at learning, and eke scorne +The sectaries thereof, as people base + [_Sectaries_, followers.] +And simple men, which never came in place +Of worlds affaires, but, in darke corners mewd, 835 +Muttred of matters as their bookes them shewd, +Ne other knowledge ever did attaine, +But with their gownes their gravitie maintaine. +From them he would his impudent lewde speach +Against Gods holie ministers oft reach, 840 +And mocke divines and their profession. +What else then did he by progression, +But mocke High God himselfe, whom they professe? +But what car’d he for God, or godlinesse? +All his care was himselfe how to advaunce, 845 +And to uphold his courtly countenaunce +By all the cunning meanes he could devise; +“Were it by honest wayes, or otherwise, +He made small choyce: yet sure his honestie +Got him small gaines, but shameles flatterie, 850 +And filthie brocage, and unseemly shifts, + [_Brocage_, pimping.] +And borowe base, and some good ladies gifts. + [_Borowe_, pledging.] +But the best helpe, which chiefly him sustain’d, +Was his man Raynolds purchase which he gain’d: + [_Purchase_, booty.] +For he was school’d by kinde in all the skill 855 + [_Kinde_, nature.] +Of close conveyance, and each practise ill +Of coosinage and cleanly knaverie, + [_Cleanly_, neat, skillful.] +Which oft maintain’d his masters braverie. +Besides, he usde another slipprie slight, +In taking on himselfe, in common sight, 860 +False personages fit for everie sted, +With which he thousands cleanly coosined: +Now like a merchant, merchants to deceave, +With whom his credite he did often leave +In gage for his gay masters hopelesse dett: 865 +Now like a lawyer, when he land would lett, +Or sell fee-simples in his masters name, +Which he had never, nor ought like the same; +Then would he be a broker, and draw in +Both wares and money, by exchange to win: 870 +Then would he seeme a farmer, that would sell +Bargaines of woods, which he did lately fell, +Or corne, or cattle, or such other ware, +Thereby to coosin men not well aware: +Of all the which there came a secret fee 875 +To th’Ape, that he his countenaunce might bee. +Besides all this, he us’d oft to beguile +Poore suters that in court did haunt some while: +For he would learne their busines secretly, +And then informe his master hastely, 880 +That he by meanes might cast them to prevent, + [_Prevent_, anticipate.] +And beg the sute the which the other ment. +Or otherwise false Reynold would abuse +The simple suter, and wish him to chuse +His master, being one of great regard 885 +In court, to compas anie sute not hard, +In case his paines were recompenst with reason: +So would he worke the silly man by treason +To buy his masters frivolous good will, +That had not power to doo him good or ill. 890 +So pitifull a thing is suters state! +Most miserable man, whom wicked fate +Hath brought to court, to sue for had-ywist, +That few have found, and manie one hath mist! +Full little knowest thou that hast not tride, 895 +What hell it is in suing long to bide: +To loose good dayes, that might be better spent; +To wast long nights in pensive discontent; +To speed to day, to be put back to morrow; +To feed on hope, to pine with feare and sorrow; 900 +To have thy Princes grace, yet want her Peeres; +To have thy asking, yet waite manie yeeres; +To fret thy soule with crosses and with cares; +To eate thy heart through comfortlesse dispaires; +To fawne, to crowche, to waite, to ride, to ronne, +905 +To spend, to give, to want, to be undonne. +Unhappie wight, borne to desastrous end, +That doth his life in so long tendance spend! +Who ever leaves sweete home, where meane estate +In safe assurance, without strife or hate, 910 +Findes all things needfull for contentment meeke, +And will to court for shadowes vaine to seeke, +Or hope to gaine, himselfe will a daw trie: +That curse God send unto mine enemie! +For none but such as this bold Ape unblest 915 +Can ever thrive in that unluckie quest; +Or such as hath a Reynold to his man, +That by his shifts his master furnish can. +But yet this Foxe could not so closely hide +His craftie feates, but that they were descride 920 +At length by such as sate in iustice seate, +Who for the same him fowlie did entreate; +And, having worthily him punished, +Out of the court for ever banished. +And now the Ape, wanting his huckster man, 925 +That wont provide his necessaries, gan +To growe into great lacke, ne could upholde +His countenaunce in those his garments olde; +Ne new ones could he easily provide, +Though all men him uncased gan deride, 930 +Like as a puppit placed in a play, +Whose part once past all men bid take away: +So that he driven was to great distresse, +And shortly brought to hopelesse wretchednesse. +Then closely as he might he cast to leave 935 +The court, not asking any passe or leave; +But ran away in his rent rags by night, +Ne ever stayd in place, ne spake to wight, +Till that the Foxe, his copesmate, he had found; + [_Copesmate_, partner in trade.] +To whome complayning his unhappie stound, 940 + [_Stound_, plight, exigency.] +At last againe with him in travell ioynd, +And with him far’d some better chaunee to fynde. +So in the world long time they wandered, +And mickle want and hardnesse suffered; +That them repented much so foolishly 945 +To come so farre to seeke for misery, +And leave the sweetnes of contented home, +Though eating hipps and drinking watry fome. + [_Hipps_, dog-rose berries.] +Thus as they them complayned too and fro, +Whilst through the forest rechlesse they did goe, +950 + [_Rechlesse_, reckless.] +Lo! where they spide how in a gloomy glade +The Lyon sleeping lay in secret shade, +His crowne and scepter lying him beside, +And having doft for heate his dreadfull hide: +Which when they saw, the Ape was sore afrayde, 955 +And would have fled with terror all dismayde. +But him the Foxe with hardy words did stay, +And bad him put all cowardize away; +For now was time, if ever they would hope, +To ayme their counsels to the fairest scope, 960 +And them for ever highly to advaunce, +In case the good which their owne happie chaunce +Them freely offred they would wisely take. +Scarse could the Ape yet speake, so did he quake; +Yet, as he could, he askt how good might growe 965 +Where nought but dread and death do seeme in show. +“Now,” sayd he, “whiles the Lyon sleepeth sound, +May we his crowne and mace take from the ground, +And eke his skinne, the terror of the wood, +Wherewith we may our selves, if we thinke good, 970 +Make kings of beasts, and lords of forests all +Subiect unto that powre imperiall.” +“Ah! but,” sayd the Ape, “who is so bold a wretch, +That dare his hardy hand to those outstretch, +When as he knowes his meede, if he be spide, 975 +To be a thousand deathes, and shame beside?” +“Fond Ape!” sayd then the Foxe, “into whose brest +Never crept thought of honor nor brave gest, + [_Gest_, deed.] +Who will not venture life a king to be, +And rather rule and raigne in soveraign see, 980 +Than dwell in dust inglorious and bace, +Where none shall name the number of his place? +One ioyous howre in blisfull happines, +I chose before a life of wretchednes. +Be therefore counselled herein by me, 985 +And shake off this vile-harted cowardree. +If he awake, yet is not death the next, +For we may colour it with some pretext +Of this or that, that may excuse the cryme: +Else we may flye; thou to a tree mayst clyme, 990 +And I creepe under ground; both from his reach: +Therefore be rul’d to doo as I doo teach.” +The Ape, that earst did nought but chill and quake, +Now gan some courage unto him to take, +And was content to attempt that enterprise, 995 +Tickled with glorie and rash covetise. +But first gan question, whether should assay + [_Whether_, which of the two.] +Those royall ornaments to steale away? +“Marie, that shall your selfe,” quoth he theretoo, +“For ye be fine and nimble it to doo; 1000 +Of all the beasts which in the forrests bee +Is not a fitter for this turne than yee: +Therefore, mine owne deare brother, take good hart, +And ever thinke a kingdome is your part.” +Loath was the Ape, though praised, to adventer, 1005 +Yet faintly gan into his worke to enter, +Afraid of everie leafe that stir’d him by, +And everie stick that underneath did ly: +Upon his tiptoes nicely he up went, +For making noyse, and still his eare he lent 1010 +To everie sound that under heaven blew; +Now went, now stopt, now crept, now backward drew, +That it good sport had been him to have eyde. +Yet at the last, so well he him applyde, +Through his fine handling and cleanly play 1015 +He all those royall signes had stolne away, +And with the Foxes helpe them borne aside +Into a secret corner unespide. +Whither whenas they came they fell at words, +Whether of them should be the lords of lords: 1020 +For th’Ape was stryfull and ambicious, +And the Foxe guilefull and most covetous; +That neither pleased was to have the rayne +Twixt them divided into even twaine, +But either algates would be lords alone: 1025 + [_Algates_, by all means.] +For love and lordship bide no paragone. + [_Paragone_, equal, partner.] +“I am most worthie,” said the Ape, “sith I +For it did put my life in ieopardie: +Thereto I am in person and in stature +Most like a man, the lord of everie creature, 1030 +So that it seemeth I was made to raigne, +And borne to be a kingly soveraigne.” +“Nay,” said the Foxe, “Sir Ape, you are astray; +For though to steale the diademe away +Were the worke of your nimble hand, yet I 1035 +Did first devise the plot by pollicie; +So that it wholly springeth from my wit: +For which also I claime my selfe more fit +Than you to rule: for government of state +Will without wisedome soone be ruinate. 1040 +And where ye claime your selfe for outward shape +Most like a man, man is not like an ape +In his chiefe parts, that is, in wit and spirite; +But I therein most like to him doo merite, +For my slie wyles and subtill craftinesse, 1045 +The title of the kingdome to possesse. +Nath’les, my brother, since we passed are +Unto this point, we will appease our iarre; +And I with reason meete will rest content, +That ye shall have both crowne and government, 1050 +Upon condition that ye ruled bee +In all affaires, and counselled by mee; +And that ye let none other ever drawe +Your minde from me, but keepe this as a lawe: +And hereupon an oath unto me plight.” 1055 +The Ape was glad to end the strife so light, +And thereto swore: for who would not oft sweare, +And oft unsweare, a diademe to beare? +Then freely up those royall spoyles he tooke, +Yet at the Lyons skin he inly quooke; 1060 +But it dissembled, and upon his head +The crowne, and on his backe the skin, he did, +And the false Foxe him helped to array. +Then when he was all dight he tooke his way +Into the forest, that he might be seene 1065 +Of the wilde beasts in his new glory sheene. +There the two first whome he encountred were +The Sheepe and th’Asse, who, striken both with feare +At sight of him, gan fast away to flye; +But unto them the Foxe alowd did cry, 1070 +And in the kings name bad them both to stay, +Upon the payne that thereof follow may. +Hardly naythles were they restrayned so, +Till that the Foxe forth toward them did goe, +And there disswaded them from needlease feare, 1075 +For that the King did favour to them beare; +And therefore dreadles bad them come to corte; +For no wild beasts should do them any torte + [_Torte_, wrong.] +There or abroad, ne would his Maiestye +Use them but well, with gracious clemencye, 1080 +As whome he knew to him both fast and true. +So he perswaded them with homage due +Themselves to humble to the Ape prostrate, +Who, gently to them bowing in his gate, + [_Gate_, way.] +Receyved them with chearefull entertayne. 1085 +Thenceforth proceeding with his princely trayne, +He shortly met the Tygre, and the Bore, +Which with the simple Camell raged sore +In bitter words, seeking to take occasion +Upon his fleshly corpse to make invasion: 1090 +But soone as they this mock-king did espy, +Their troublous strife they stinted by and by, + [_Stinted by and by_, stopped at once.] +Thinking indeed that it the Lyon was. +He then, to prove whether his powre would pas +As currant, sent the Foxe to them streight way, 1095 +Commaunding them their cause of strife bewray; +And, if that wrong on eyther side there were, +That he should warne the wronger to appeare +The morrow next at court, it to defend; +In the meane time upon the King t’attend. 1100 +The subtile Foxe so well his message sayd, +That the proud beasts him readily obayd: +Whereby the Ape in wondrous stomack woxe, +Strongly encorag’d by the crafty Foxe; +That king indeed himselfe he shortly thought, 1105 +And all the beasts him feared as they ought, +And followed unto his palaice hye; +Where taking congé, each one by and by +Departed to his home in dreadfull awe, +Full of the feared sight which late they sawe. 1110 +The Ape, thus seized of the regall throne, +Eftsones by counsell of the Foxe alone +Gan to provide for all things in assurance, +That so his rule might lenger have endurance. +First, to his gate be pointed a strong gard, 1115 +That none might enter but with issue hard: +Then, for the safegard of his personage, +He did appoint a warlike equipage +Of forreine beasts, not in the forest bred, +But part by land and part by water fed; 1120 +For tyrannie is with strange ayde supported. +Then unto him all monstrous beasts resorted +Bred of two kindes, as Griffons, Minotaures, +Crocodiles, Dragons, Beavers, and Centaures: +With those himselfe he strengthned mightelie, 1125 +That feare he neede no force of enemie. +Then gan he rule and tyrannize at will, +Like as the Foxe did guide his graceles skill; +And all wylde beasts made vassals of his pleasures, +And with their spoyles enlarg’d his private treasures. +No care of iustice, nor no rule of reason, 1131 +No temperance, nor no regard of season, +Did thenceforth ever enter in his minde; +But crueltie, the signe of currish kinde, +And sdeignfull pride, and wilfull arrogaunce; 1135 +Such followes those whom fortune doth advaunce. +But the false Foxe most kindly plaid his part: + [_Kindly_, according to his nature.] +For whatsoever mother-wit or arte +Could worke, he put in proofe: no practise slie, +No counterpoint of cunning policie, 1140 + [_Counterpoint_, counterplot.] +Ne reach, no breach, that might him profit bring, +But he the same did to his purpose wring. +Nought suffered he the Ape to give or graunt, +But through his hand must passe the fiaunt. + [_Fiaunt_, fiat.] +All offices, all leases by him lept, 1145 +And of them all whatso he likte he kept. +Iustice he solde iniustice for to buy, +And for to purchase for his progeny. + [_Purchase_, collect spoil.] +Ill might it prosper that ill gotten was, +But, so he got it, little did he pas. 1150 + [_Pas_, care.] +He fed his cubs with fat of all the soyle, +And with the sweete of others sweating toyle; +He crammed them with crumbs of benefices, +And fild their mouthes with meeds of malefices; + [_Malifices_, evil deeds.] +He cloathed them with all colours save white, 1155 +And loded them with lordships and with might, +So much as they were able well to beare, +That with the weight their backs nigh broken were. +He chaffred chayres in which churchmen were set, + [_Chaffred_, bartered.] +And breach of lawes to privie ferme did let. 1160 + [_Ferme_, farm.] +No statute so established might bee, +Nor ordinaunce so needfull, but that hee +Would violate, though not with violence, +Yet under colour of the confidence +The which the Ape repos’d in him alone, 1165 +And reckned him the kingdomes corner stone. +And ever, when he ought would bring to pas, +His long experience the platforme was: +And when he ought not pleasing would put by +The cloke was care of thrift, and husbandry, 1170 +For to encrease the common treasures store. +But his owne treasure he encreased more, +And lifted up his loftie towres thereby, +That they began to threat the neighbour sky; +The whiles the princes pallaces fell fast 1175 +To ruine; for what thing can ever last? +And whilest the other peeres for povertie +Were forst their auncient houses to let lie, +And their olde castles to the ground to fall, +Which their forefathers famous over-all 1180 + [_Over-all_, everywhere.] +Had founded for the kingdomes ornament, +And for their memories long moniment. +But he no count made of nobilitie, +Nor the wilde beasts whom armes did glorifie, 1185 +The realmes chiefe strength and girlond of the crowne. +All these through fained crimes he thrust adowne, +Or made them dwell in darknes of disgrace: +For none but whom he list might come in place. +Of men of armes he had but small regard, +But kept them lowe, and streigned verie hard. 1190 +For men of learning little he esteemed; +His wisedome he above their learning deemed. +As for the rascall commons, least he cared, +For not so common was his bountie shared: 1194 +“Let God,” said he, “if please, care for the manie, +I for my selfe must care before els anie.” +So did he good to none, to manie ill, +So did he all the kingdome rob and pill, + [_Pill_, plunder.] +Yet none durst speake, ne none durst of him plaine; +So great he was in grace, and rich through game. +Ne would he anie let to have accesse 1201 +Unto the Prince, but by his owne addresse: +For all that els did come were sure to faile; +Yet would he further none but for availe. +For on a time the Sheepe, to whom of yore 1205 +The Foxe had promised of friendship store, +What time the Ape the kingdome first did gaine, +Came to the court, her case there to complaine; +How that the Wolfe, her mortall enemie, +Had sithence slaine her lambe most cruellie; 1210 + [_Sithence_, since.] +And therefore crav’d to come unto the King, +To let him knowe the order of the thing. +“Soft, Gooddie Sheepe!” then said the Foxe, “not soe: +Unto the King so rash ye may not goe; +He is with greater matter busied 1215 +Than a lambe, or the lambes owne mothers hed. +Ne certes may I take it well in part, +That ye my cousin Wolfe so fowly thwart, +And seeke with slaunder his good name to blot: +For there was cause, els doo it he would not: 1220 +Therefore surcease, good dame, and hence depart.” +So went the Sheepe away with heavie hart; +So manie moe, so everie one was used, +That to give largely to the boxe refused. + + +Now when high Iove, in whose almightie hand 1225 +The care of kings and power of empires stand, +Sitting one day within his turret hye, +From whence he vewes with his black-lidded eye +Whatso the heaven in his wide vawte containes, +And all that in the deepest earth remaines, 1230 +And troubled kingdome of wilde beasts behelde, +Whom not their kindly sovereigne did welde, + [_Welde_, govern.] +But an usurping Ape, with guile suborn’d, +Had all subverst, he sdeignfully it scorn’d +In his great heart, and hardly did refraine 1235 +But that with thunder bolts he had him slaine, +And driven downe to hell, his dewest meed. +But him avizing, he that dreadfull deed +Forbore, and rather chose with scornfull shame +Him to avenge, and blot his brutish name 1240 +Unto the world, that never after anie +Should of his race be voyd of infamie; +And his false counsellor, the cause of all, +To damne to death, or dole perpetuall, +From whence he never should be quit nor stal’d. + [_Stal’d_, forestalled (?).] +Forthwith he Mercurie unto him cal’d, 1246 +And bad him flie with never-resting speed +Unto the forrest, where wilde beasts doo breed, +And, there enquiring privily, to learne +What did of late chaunce to the Lyon stearne, 1250 +That he rul’d not the empire, as he ought; +And whence were all those plaints unto him brought +Of wrongs and spoyles by salvage beasts committed: +Which done, he bad the Lyon be remitted +Into his seate, and those same treachours vile 1255 + [_Treachours_, traitors.] +Be punished for their presumptuous guile. +The sonne of Maia, soone as he receiv’d +That word, streight with his azure wings he cleav’d +The liquid clowdes and lucid firmament, +Ne staid till that he came with steep descent 1260 +Unto the place where his prescript did showe. +There stouping, like an arrowe from a bowe, +He soft arrived on the grassie plaine, +And fairly paced forth with easie paine, +Till that unto the pallace nigh he came. 1265 +Then gan he to himselfe new shape to frame, +And that faire face, and that ambrosiall hew, +Which wonts to decke the gods immortall crew, +And beautefie the shinie firmament, +He doft, unfit for that rude rabblement. 1270 +So, standing by the gates in strange disguize, +He gan enquire of some in secret wize, +Both of the King, and of his government, +And of the Foxe, and his false blandishment: +And evermore he heard each one complaine 1275 +Of foule abuses both in realme and raine: +Which yet to prove more true, he meant to see, +And an ey-witnes of each thing to bee. +Tho on his head his dreadfull hat he dight, +Which maketh him invisible in sight, 1280 +And mocketh th’eyes of all the lookers on, +Making them thinke it but a vision. +Through power of that he runnes through enemies swerds; +Through power of that he passeth through the herds +Of ravenous wilde beasts, and doth beguile 1285 +Their greedie mouthes of the expected spoyle; +Through power of that his cunning theeveries +He wonts to worke, that none the same espies; +And through the power of that he putteth on +What shape he list in apparition. 1290 +That on his head he wore, and in his hand +He tooke caduceus, his snakie wand, +With which the damned ghosts he governeth, +And furies rules, and Tartare tempereth. +With that he causeth sleep to seize the eyes, 1295 +And feare the harts, of all his enemyes; +And when him list, an universall night +Throughout the world he makes on everie wight; +As when his syre with Alcumena lay. +Thus dight, into the court he tooke his way, 1300 +Both through the gard, which never him descride, +And through the watchmen, who him never spide: +Thenceforth he past into each secrete part, +Whereas he saw, that sorely griev’d his hart, +Each place abounding with fowle iniuries, 1305 +And fild with treasure rackt with robberies; +Each place defilde with blood of guiltles beasts +Which had been slaine to serve the Apes beheasts; +Gluttonie, malice, pride, and covetize, +And lawlesnes raigning with riotize; 1310 +Besides the infinite extortions, +Done through the Foxes great oppressions, +That the complaints thereof could not be tolde. +Which when he did with lothfull eyes beholde, +He would no more endure, but came his way, 1315 +And cast to seeke the Lion, where he may, + [_Cast_, projected.] +That he might worke the avengement for this shame +On those two caytives which had bred him blame +And seeking all the forrest busily, +At last he found where sleeping he did ly. 1320 +The wicked weed which there the Foxe did lay +From underneath his head he tooke away, +And then him, waking, forced up to rize. +The Lion, looking up, gan him avize, + [_Avize_, bethink.] +As one late in a traunce, what had of long 1325 +Become of him: for fantasie is strong. +“Arise,” said Mercurie, “thou sluggish beast, +That here liest senseles, like the corpse deceast, +The whilste thy kingdome from thy head is rent, +And thy throne royall with dishonour blent: 1330 + [_Blent_, stained.] +Arise, and doo thy selfe redeeme from shame, +And be aveng’d on those that breed thy blame.” +Thereat enraged, soone he gan upstart, +Grinding his teeth, and grating his great hart; +And, rouzing up himselfe, for his rough hide 1335 +He gan to reach; but no where it espide. +Therewith he gan full terribly to rore, +And chafte at that indignitie right sore. +But when his crowne and scepter both he wanted, +Lord! how he fum’d, and sweld, and rag’d, and panted, +And threatned death and thousand deadly dolours +To them that had purloyn’d his princely honours. +With that in hast, disroabed as he was, +He toward his owne pallace forth did pas; +And all the way he roared as he went, 1345 +That all the forrest with astonishment +Thereof did tremble, and the beasts therein +Fled fast away from that so dreadfull din. +At last he came unto his mansion, +Where all the gates he found fast lockt anon 1350 +And manie warders round about them stood: +With that he roar’d alowd, as he were wood, + [_Wood_, frantic.] +That all the pallace quaked at the stound, + [_Stound_, (time, scene) tumult.] +As if it quite were riven from the ground, +And all within were dead and hartles left; 1355 +And th’Ape himselfe, as one whose wits were reft, +Fled here and there, and everie corner sought. +To hide himselfe from his owne feared thought. +But the false Foxe, when he the Lion heard, +Fled closely forth, streightway of death afeard, +1360 + [_Closely_, secretly.] +And to the Lion came, full lowly creeping, +With fained face, and watrie eyne halfe weeping, +T’excuse his former treason and abusion, +And turning all unto the Apes confusion: +Nath’les the royall beast forbore beleeving, 1365 +But bad him stay at ease till further preeving. + [_Preeving_, proving.] +Then when he saw no entrance to him graunted, +Roaring yet lowder that all harts it daunted, +Upon those gates with force he fiercely newe, +And, rending them in pieces, felly slewe 1370 +Those warders strange, and all that els he met +But th’Ape still flying he no where might get: +From rowme to rowme, from beame to beame he fled, +All breathles, and for feare now almost ded: +Yet him at last the Lyon spide, and caught, 1375 +And forth with shame unto his iudgement brought. +Then all the beasts he causd’ assembled bee, +To heare their doome, and sad ensample see: +The Foxe, first author of that treacherie +He did uncase, and then away let flie. 1380 + [_Uncase_, strip of his disguise.] +But th’Apes long taile (which then he had) he quight +Cut off, and both eares pared of their hight; +Since which, all Apes but halfe their eares have left, +And of their tailes are utterlie bereft. + + +So Mother Hubberd her discourse did end: 1385 +Which pardon me if I amisse have pend, +For weake was my remembrance it to hold, +And bad her tongue that it so bluntly tolde. + + +FOOTNOTES: + + +MOTHER HUBBERDS TALE. This charming little poem, Spenser’s only +successful effort at satire, is stated by the author to have been +composed in the raw conceit of his youth. There is internal evidence, +however, that some of the happiest passages were added at the date of +its publication, at which time the whole was probably retouched. +Although Mother Hubberds Tale is in its plan an imitation of the +satires of Reynard the Fox; the treatment of the subject is quite +original. For the combination of elegance with simplicity, this poem +will stand a comparison with Goethe’s celebrated translation of the +Reineke. C. + + +Ver. I.—_It was the month_, &c. August. + + +Ver. 453.—_Diriges_, dirges. The office for the dead received this name +from the antiphon with which the first nocturne in the mattens +commenced, taken from Psalm v. 8, “Dirige, Domine Deus meus, in +conspectu tuo viam meam.” Way’s _Promptorium Parvulorum._ C. + + +Ver. 519.—_Scarse can a bishoprick_, &c. This is probably an allusion +to the frequent alienations of the lands and manors of bishoprics in +Elizabeth’s time. TODD. + + +Ver. 562.—_The ordinarie._ An ordinary is a judge having jurisdiction +in ecclesiastical matters. In England, it is usually the bishop of the +diocese. H. + + +Ver. 623, 624.—The Queen was so much pleased with the results of the +Portugal expedition of 1589, that she honored the commanders, and Sir +Walter Raleigh among the rest, with a gold chain. C. + + +Ver. 717.—_The brave courtier_, &c. This description is perhaps +intended for Sir Philip Sidney. C. + + +Ver. 893.—Had-ywist. That is, _had I wist! had I known_ that it would +end so! a proverbial expression for late repentance consequent on +disappointment. C. + + +Ver. 901.—_To have thy Princes grace, yet want her Peeres._ Elizabeth +was said to have granted Spenser a pension which Burghley intercepted, +and to have ordered him a gratuity which her minister neglected to pay. +C. + + +Ver. 913.—_Himselfe will a daw trie._ So the old copy: the reading +should probably be _himselfe a daw will trie_, prove or find himself by +experience to be a daw or fool. C. + + +Ver. 1189.—_Of men of armes,_ &c. This passage certainly provokes an +application to Lord Burghley, and was probably intended for him. C. + + + + +RUINES OF ROME: + +BY BELLAY* + + +[* Joachim du Bellay, a French poet of considerable reputation in his +day, died in 1560. These sonnets are translated from _Le Premier Livre +des Antiquez de Rome_. Further on we have the Visions of Bellay, +translated from the _Songes_ of the same author. The best that can be +said of these sonnets seems to be, that they are not inferior to the +original. C.] + +I. + +Ye heavenly spirites, whose ashie cinders lie +Under deep ruines, with huge walls opprest, +But not your praise, the which shall never die +Through your faire verses, ne in ashes rest; +If so be shrilling voyce of wight alive +May reach from hence to depth of darkest hell, +Then let those deep abysses open rive, +That ye may understand my shreiking yell! +Thrice having seene under the heavens veale +Your toombs devoted compasse over all, +Thrice unto you with lowd voyce I appeale, +And for your antique furie here doo call, + The whiles that I with sacred horror sing + Your glorie, fairest of all earthly thing! + +II. + +Great Babylon her haughtie walls will praise, +And sharped steeples high shot up in ayre; +Greece will the olde Ephesian buildings blaze, +And Nylus nurslings their Pyramides faire; +The same yet vaunting Greece will tell the storie +Of Ioves great image in Olympus placed; +Mausolus worke will be the Carians glorie, +And Crete will boast the Labyrinth, now raced; +The antique Rhodian will likewise set forth +The great Colosse, erect to Memorie; +And what els in the world is of like worth, +Some greater learned wit will magnifie. + But I will sing above all moniments + Seven Romane Hils, the worlds seven wonderments. + +III. + +Thou stranger, which for Rome in Rome hero seekest, +And nought of Rome in Rome perceiv’st at all, +These same olde walls, olde arches, which thou seest, +Olde palaces, is that which Rome men call. +Beholde what wreake, what mine, and what wast, +And how that she which with her mightie powre +Tam’d all the world hath tam’d herselfe at last; +The pray of Time, which all things doth devowre! +Rome now of Rome is th’onely funerall, +And onely Rome of Rome hath victorie; +Ne ought save Tyber hastning to his fall +Remaines of all: O worlds inconstancie! + That which is firme doth flit and fall away, + And that is flitting doth abide and stay. + +IV. + +She whose high top above the starres did sore, +One foote on Thetis, th’other on the Morning, +One hand on Scythia, th’other on the More, +Both heaven and earth in roundnesse compassing; +Iove fearing, least if she should greater growe, +The old giants should once againe uprise, +Her whelm’d with hills, these seven hils, which be nowe +Tombes of her greatnes which did threate the skies: +Upon her head he heapt Mount Saturnal, +Upon her bellie th’antique Palatine, +Upon her stomacke laid Mount Quirinal, +On her left hand the noysome Esquiline, + And Caelian on the right; but both her feete + Mount Viminal and Aventine doo meete. + +V. + +Who lists to see what ever nature, arte, +And heaven could doo, O Rome, thee let him see, +In case thy greatnes he can gesse in harte +By that which but the picture is of thee! +Rome is no more: but if the shade of Rome +May of the bodie yeeld a seeming sight, +It’s like a corse drawne forth out of the tombe +By magicke skill out of eternall night: +The corpes of Rome in ashes is entombed, +And her great spirite, reioyned to the spirite +Of this great masse, is in the same enwombed; +But her brave writings, which, her famous merite + In spight of Time out of the dust doth reare, + Doo make her idole* through the world appeare. +[* _Idole_, image, idea.] + +VI. + +Such as the Berecynthian goddesse bright, +In her swifte charret with high turrets crownde, +Proud that so manie gods she brought to light, +Such was this citie in her good daies fownd: +This citie, more than that great Phrygian mother +Renowm’d for fruite of famous progenie, +Whose greatnes by the greatnes of none other, +But by her selfe, her equall match could see: +Rome onely might to Rome compared bee, +And onely Rome could make great Rome to tremble: +So did the gods by heavenly doome decree, +That other earthlie power should not resemble + Her that did match the whole earths puissaunce, + And did her courage to the heavens advaunce. + +VII. + +Ye sacred ruines, and ye tragick sights, +Which onely doo the name of Rome retaine, +Olde moniments, which of so famous sprights +The honour yet in ashes doo maintaine, +Triumphant arcks, spyres neighbours to the skie, +That you to see doth th’heaven it selfe appall, +Alas! by little ye to nothing flie, +The peoples fable, and the spoyle of all! +And though your frames do for a time make warre +Gainst Time, yet Time in time shall ruinate +Your workes and names, and your last reliques marre. +My sad desires, rest therefore moderate! + For if that Time make ende of things so sure, + It als will end the paine which I endure. + +VIII. + +Through armes and vassals Rome the world subdu’d, +That one would weene that one sole cities strength +Both land and sea in roundnes had survew’d, +To be the measure of her bredth and length: +This peoples vertue yet so fruitfull was +Of vertuous nephewes*, that posteritie, +Striving in power their grandfathers to passe, +The lowest earth ioin’d to the heaven hie; +To th’end that, having all parts in their power, +Nought from the Romane Empire might be quight**; +And that though Time doth commonwealths devowre, +Yet no time should so low embase their hight, + That her head, earth’d in her foundations deep, + Should not her name and endles honour keep. +[* _Nephewes_, descendants.] +[** _Quight_, quit, free.] + +IX. + +Ye cruell starres, and eke ye gods unkinde, +Heaven envious, and bitter stepdame Nature! +Be it by fortune, or by course of kinde*, +That ye doo weld th’affaires of earthlie creature; +Why have your hands long sithence traveiled +To frame this world, that doth endure so long? +Or why were not these Romane palaces +Made of some matter no lesse firme and strong? +I say not, as the common voyce doth say, +That all things which beneath the moone have being +Are temporall and subiect to decay: +But I say rather, though not all agreeing + With some that weene the contrarie in thought, + That all this whole shall one day come to nought. +[* _Kinde_, nature.] + +X. + +As that brave sonne of Aeson, which by charmes +Atcheiv’d the golden fleece in Colchid land, +Out of the earth engendred men of armes +Of dragons teeth, sowne in the sacred sand, +So this brave towne, that in her youthlie daies +An hydra was of warriours glorious, +Did fill with her renowmed nourslings praise +The firie sunnes both one and other hous: +But they at last, there being then not living +An Hercules so ranke seed to represse, +Emongst themselves with cruell furie striving, +Mow’d downe themselves with slaughter mercilesse; + Renewing in themselves that rage unkinde, + Which whilom did those earthborn brethren blinde. + +XI. + +Mars, shaming to have given so great head +To his off-spring, that mortall puissaunce, +Puft up with pride of Romane hardiehead, +Seem’d above heavens powre it selfe to advaunce, +Cooling againe his former kindled heate +With which he had those Romane spirits fild. +Did blowe new fire, and with enflamed breath +Into the Gothicke colde hot rage instil’d. +Then gan that nation, th’earths new giant brood, +To dart abroad the thunderbolts of warre, +And, beating downe these walls with furious mood +Into her mothers bosome, all did marre; + To th’end that none, all were it* Iove his sire, + Should boast himselfe of the Romane empire. +[* _All were it_, although it were.] + +XII. + +Like as whilome the children of the earth +Heapt hils on hils to scale the starrie skie, +And fight against the gods of heavenly berth, +Whiles Iove at them his thunderbolts let flie; +All suddenly with lightning overthrowne, +The furious squadrons downe to ground did fall, +That th’earth under her childrens weight did grone, +And th’heavens in glorie triumpht over all; +So did that haughtie front, which heaped was +On these seven Romane hils, it selfe upreare +Over the world, and lift her loftie face +Against the heaven, that gan her force to feare. + But now these scorned fields bemone her fall, + And gods secure feare not her force at all. + +XIII. + +Nor the swift furie of the flames aspiring, +Nor the deep wounds of victours raging blade, +Nor ruthlesse spoyle of souldiers blood-desiring, +The which so oft thee, Rome, their conquest made, +Ne stroke on stroke of fortune variable, +Ne rust of age hating continuance, +Nor wrath of gods, nor spight of men unstable, +Nor thou oppos’d against thine owne puissance, +Nor th’horrible uprore of windes high blowing, +Nor swelling streames of that god snakie-paced* +Which hath so often with his overflowing +Thee drenched, have thy pride so much abaced, + But that this nothing, which they have thee left, + Makes the world wonder what they from thee reft. +[* _Snakie-paced_, winding; or perhaps (like Ovid’s _anguipes_) swift.] + +XIV. + +As men in summer fearles passe the foord +Which is in winter lord of all the plaine, +And with his tumbling streames doth beare aboord* +The ploughmans hope and shepheards labour vaine, +And as the coward beasts use to despise +The noble lion after his lives end, +Whetting their teeth, and with vaine foolhardise +Daring the foe that cannot him defend, +And as at Troy most dastards of the Greekes +Did brave about the corpes of Hector colde, +So those which whilome wont with pallid cheekes +The Romane triumphs glorie to behold, + Now on these ashie tombes shew boldnesse vaine, + And, conquer’d, dare the conquerour disdaine. +[*_Aboord_, into the current.] + +XV. + +Ye pallid spirits, and ye ashie ghoasts, +Which, ioying in the brightnes of your day, +Brought foorth those signes of your presumptuous boasts +Which now their dusty reliques do bewray, +Tell me, ye spirits! (sith the darksome river +Of Styx, not passable to soules returning, +Enclosing you in thrice three wards for ever, +Doo not restraine your images still mourning,) +Tell me then, (for perhaps some one of you +Yet here above him secretly doth hide,) +Doo ye not feele your torments to accrewe, +When ye sometimes behold the ruin’d pride + Of these old Romane works, built with your hands, + To become nought els but heaped sands? + +XVI. + +Like as ye see the wrathfull sea from farre +In a great mountaine heap’t with hideous noyse, +Eftsoones of thousand billowes shouldred narre*, +Against a rocke to breake with dreadfull poyse; +Like as ye see fell Boreas with sharpe blast +Tossing huge tempests through the troubled skie, +Eftsoones having his wide wings spent in wast, +To stop his wearie cariere** suddenly; +And as ye see huge flames spred diverslie, +Gathered in one up to the heavens to spyre, +Eftsoones consum’d to fall downe feebily, +So whilom did this monarchie aspyre + As waves, as winde, as fire, spred over all, + Till it by fatall doome adowne did fall. +[* _Narre_, nearer.] +[** _Cariere_, career.] + +XVII. + +So long as Ioves great bird did make his flight, +Bearing the fire with which heaven doth us fray, +Heaven had not feare of that presumptuous might, +With which the giaunts did the gods assay: +But all so soone as scortching sunne had brent* +His wings which wont the earth to overspredd, +The earth out of her massie wombe forth sent +That antique horror which made heaven adredd. +Then was the Germane raven in disguise +That Romane eagle seene to cleave asunder, +And towards heaven freshly to arise +Out of these mountaines, now consum’d to pouder. + In which the foule that serves to beare the lightning + Is now no more seen flying nor alighting. +[* _Brent_, burned.] + +XVIII. + +These heapes of stones, these old wals which ye see, +Were first enclosures but of salvage soyle; +And these brave pallaces, which maystred bee +Of time, were shepheards cottages somewhile. +Then tooke the shepheards kingly ornaments +And the stout hynde arm’d his right hand with steele: +Eftsoones their rule of yearely presidents +Grew great, and sixe months greater a great deele; +Which, made perpetuall, rose to so great might, +That thence th’imperiall eagle rooting tooke, +Till th’heaven it selfe, opposing gainst her might, +Her power to Peters successor betooke, + Who, shepheardlike, (as Fates the same foreseeing,) + Doth shew that all things turne to their first being. +[XVIII. 8.—_Sixe months_, &c. The term of the dictatorship at Rome.] + +XIX. + +All that is perfect, which th’heaven beautefies; +All that’s imperfect, borne belowe the moone; +All that doth feede our spirits and our eies; +And all that doth consume our pleasures soone; +All the mishap the which our daies outweares; +All the good hap of th’oldest times afore, +Rome, in the time of her great ancesters, +Like a Pandora, locked long in store. +But destinie this huge chaos turmoyling, +In which all good and evill was enclosed, +Their heavenly vertues from these woes assoyling, +Caried to heaven, from sinfull bondage losed: + But their great sinnes, the causers of their paine, + Under these antique ruines yet remaine. + +XX. + +No otherwise than raynie cloud, first fed +With earthly vapours gathered in the ayre, +Eftsoones in compas arch’t, to steepe his hed, +Doth plonge himselfe in Tethys bosome faire, +And, mounting up againe from whence he came, +With his great bellie spreds the dimmed world, +Till at the last, dissolving his moist frame, +In raine, or snowe, or haile, he forth is horld, +This citie, which was first but shepheards shade, +Uprising by degrees, grewe to such height +That queene of land and sea her selfe she made. +At last, not able to beare so great weight, + Her power, disperst, through all the world did vade*; + To shew that all in th’end to nought shall fade. +[* _Vade_, vanish.] + +XXI. + +The same which Pyrrhus and the puissaunce +Of Afrike could not tame, that same brave citie +Which, with stout courage arm’d against mischaunce, +Sustein’d the shocke of common enmitie, +Long as her ship, tost with so manie freakes, +Had all the world in armes against her bent, +Was never seene that anie fortunes wreakes +Could breake her course begun with brave intent. +But, when the obiect of her vertue failed, +Her power it selfe against it selfe did arme; +As he that having long in tempest sailed +Faine would arive, but cannot for the storme, + If too great winde against the port him drive, + Doth in the port it selfe his vessell rive. + +XXII. + +When that brave honour of the Latine name, +Which mear’d* her rule with Africa and Byze**, +With Thames inhabitants of noble fame, +And they which see the dawning day arize, +Her nourslings did with mutinous uprore +Harten against her selfe, her conquer’d spoile, +Which she had wonne from all the world afore, +Of all the world was spoyl’d within a while: +So, when the compast course of the universe +In sixe and thirtie thousand yeares is ronne, +The bands of th’elements shall backe reverse +To their first discord, and be quite undonne; + The seedes of which all things at first were bred + Shall in great Chaos wombe againe be hid. +[* _Mear’d_, bounded.] +[** _Byze_, Byzantium.] + +XXIII. + +O warie wisedome of the man* that would +That Carthage towres from spoile should be forborne, +To th’end that his victorious people should +With cancring laisure not be overworne! +He well foresaw how that the Romane courage, +Impatient of pleasures faint desires, +Through idlenes would turne to civill rage, +And be her selfe the matter of her fires. +For in a people given all to ease, +Ambition is engendred easily; +As, in a vicious bodie, grose disease +Soone growes through humours superfluitie. + That came to passe, when, swolne with plenties pride, + Nor prince, nor peere, nor kin, they would abide. +[* I.e. Scipio Nasica.] + +XXIV. + +If the blinde Furie which warres breedeth oft +Wonts not t’enrage the hearts of equall beasts, +Whether they fare on foote, or flie aloft, +Or armed be with clawes, or scalie creasts, +What fell Erynnis, with hot burning tongs, +Did grype your hearts with noysome rage imbew’d, +That, each to other working cruell wrongs, +Your blades in your owne bowels you embrew’d? +Was this, ye Romanes, your hard destinie? +Or some old sinne, whose unappeased guilt +Powr’d vengeance forth on you eternallie? +Or brothers blood, the which at first was spilt + Upon your walls, that God might not endure + Upon the same to set foundation sure? + +XXV. + +O that I had the Thracian poets harpe, +For to awake out of th’infernall shade +Those antique Caesars, sleeping long in darke, +The which this auncient citie whilome made! +Or that I had Amphions instrument, +To quicken with his vitall notes accord +The stonie ioynts of these old walls now rent, +By which th’Ausonian light might be restor’d! +Or that at least I could with pencill fine +Fashion the pourtraicts of these palacis, +By paterne of great Virgils spirit divine! +I would assay with that which in me is + To builde, with levell of my loftie style, + That which no hands can evermore compyle. + +XXVI. + +Who list the Romane greatnes forth to figure, +Him needeth not to seeke for usage right +Of line, or lead, or rule, or squaire, to measure +Her length, her breadth, her deepnes, or her hight; +But him behooves to vew in compasse round +All that the ocean graspes in his long armes; +Be it where the yerely starre doth scortch the ground, +Or where colde Boreas blowes his bitter stormes. +Rome was th’whole world, and al the world was Rome; +And if things nam’d their names doo equalize, +When land and sea ye name, then name ye Rome, +And, naming Rome, ye land and sea comprize: + For th’auncient plot of Rome, displayed plaine, + The map of all the wide world doth containe. + +XXVII. + +Thou that at Rome astonisht dost behold +The antique pride which menaced the skie, +These haughtie heapes, these palaces of olde, +These wals, these arcks, these baths, these temples his, +Iudge, by these ample ruines vew, the rest +The which iniurious time hath quite outworne, +Since, of all workmen helde in reckning best, +Yet these olde fragments are for paternes borne: +Then also marke how Rome, from day to day, +Repayring her decayed fashion, +Renewes herselfe with buildings rich and gay; +That one would iudge that the Romaine Daemon* + Doth yet himselfe with fatall hand enforce + Againe on foot to reare her pouldred** corse. +[* _Romaine Daemon_, Genius of Rome.] +[** _Pouldred_, reduced to dust.] + +XXVIII. + +He that hath seene a great oke drie and dead, +Yet clad with reliques of some trophees olde, +Lifting to heaven her aged hoarie head, +Whose foote in ground hath left but feeble holde, +But halfe disbowel’d lies above the ground, +Shewing her wreathed rootes, and naked armes, +And on her trunke all rotten and unsound +Onely supports herselfe for meate of wormes, +And, though she owe her fall to the first winde, +Yet of the devout people is ador’d, +And manie yong plants spring out of her rinde; +Who such an oke hath seene, let him record + That such this cities honour was of yore, + And mongst all cities florished much more. + +XXIX. + +All that which Aegypt whilome did devise, +All that which Greece their temples to embrave, +After th’Ionicke, Atticke, Doricke guise, +Or Corinth skil’d in curious workes to grave, +All that Lysippus practike* arte could forme, +Apelles wit, or Phidias his skill, +Was wont this auncient citie to adorne, +And the heaven it selfe with her wide wonders fill. +All that which Athens ever brought forth wise, +All that which Afrike ever brought forth strange, +All that which Asie ever had of prise, +Was here to see. O mervelous great change! + Rome, living, was the worlds sole ornament; + And, dead, is now the worlds sole moniment. +[* _Practike_, cunning.] + +XXX. + +Like as the seeded field greene grasse first showes, +Then from greene grasse into a stalke doth spring, +And from a stalke into an eare forth-growes, +Which eare the frutefull graine doth shortly bring, +And as in season due the husband* mowes +The waving lockes of those faire yeallow heares, +Which, bound in sheaves, and layd in comely rowes, +Upon the naked fields in stalkes he reares, +So grew the Romane empire by degree, +Till that barbarian hands it quite did spill, +And left of it but these olde markes to see, +Of which all passers by doo somewhat pill**, + As they which gleane, the reliques use to gather + Which th’husbandman behind him chanst to scater. +[* _Husband_, husbandman.] +[** _Pill_, plunder.] + +XXXI. + +That same is now nought but a champian wide, +Where all this worlds pride once was situate. +No blame to thee, whosoever dost abide +By Nyle, or Gange, or Tygre, or Euphrate; +Ne Afrike thereof guiltie is, nor Spaine, +Nor the bolde people by the Thamis brincks, +Nor the brave warlicke brood of Alemaine, +Nor the borne souldier which Rhine running drinks. +Thou onely cause, O Civill Furie, art! +Which, sowing in th’Aemathian fields thy spight, +Didst arme thy hand against thy proper hart; +To th’end that when thou wast in greatest hight + To greatnes growne, through long prosperitie, + Thou then adowne might’st fall more horriblie. +[XXXI. 10.—_Aemathian fields_. Thessalian fields; alluding to the +battle fought at Pharsalia, in Thessaly, between Caesar and Pompey. H.] + +XXXII. + +Hope ye, my Verses, that posteritie +Of age ensuing shall you ever read? +Hope ye that ever immortalitie +So meane harpes worke may chalenge for her meed? +If under heaven anie endurance were, +These moniments, which not in paper writ, +But in porphyre and marble doo appeare, +Might well have hop’d to have obtained it. +Nath’les, my Lute, whom Phoebus deigned to give, +Cease not to sound these olde antiquities: +For if that Time doo let thy glorie live, +Well maist thou boast, how ever base thou bee, + That thou art first which of thy nation song + Th’olde honour of the people gowned long. + +L’ENVOY. + +Bellay, first garland of free poesie +That France brought forth, though fruitfull of brave wits, +Well worthie thou of immortalitie, +That long hast traveld*, by thy learned writs, +Olde Rome out of her ashes to revive, +And give a second life to dead decayes! +Needes must he all eternitie survive, +That can to other give eternall dayes. +Thy dayes therefore are endles, and thy prayse +Excelling all that ever went before: +And, after thee, gins Bartas hie to rayse +His heavenly Muse, th’Almightie to adore. + Live happie spirits, th’honour of your name, + And fill the world with never dying fame! +[* _Traveld_, travailed, toiled.] + + +L’Envoy, 11.—_Bartas_. Guillaume de Salluste du Bartas, a French poet +of the time of Henry IV, of extraordinary popularity in his day. His +poem on the Creation is said to have been reprinted more than thirty +times in six years, and was translated into several languages; among +others, into English by Joshua Sylvester. H. + + + + +MUIOPOTMOS: + +OR + +THE FATE OF THE BUTTERFLIE. + +BY ED. SP. + +DEDICATED TO THE MOST FAIRE AND VERTUOUS LADIE, + +THE LADIE CAREY. + +LONDON: + +IMPRINTED FOR WILLIAM PONSONBIE, DWELLING IN PAULES + +CHURCHYARD AT THE SIGNE OF THE BISHOPS HEAD. + + +1590* + + +[* This date seems to be an error for 1591; or, as Mr. Craik suggests, +it may have been used designedly with reference to real events, not yet +ascertained, which furnished the subject of this very pleasing +allegory. The Visions of the Worlds Vanitie, which follow this piece, +may be suspected of a similar application. C.] + +TO THE RIGHT WORTHY AND VERTUOUS LADIE, THE LA: CAREY. + +Most brave and bountifull La: for so excellent favours as I have +received at your sweet handes, to offer these fewe leaves as in +recompence, should be as to offer flowers to the gods for their divine +benefites. Therefore I have determined to give my selfe wholy to you, +as quite abandoned from my selfe, and absolutely vowed to your +services: which in all right is ever held for full recompence of debt +or damage, to have the person yeelded. My person I wot wel how little +worth it is. But the faithfull minde and humble zeale which I bear unto +your La: may perhaps be more of price, as may please you to account and +use the poore service thereof; which taketh glory to advance your +excellent partes and noble vertues, and to spend it selfe in honouring +you; not so much for your great bounty to my self, which yet may not be +unminded; nor for name or kindreds* sake by you vouchsafed, beeing also +regardable; as for that honorable name, which yee have by your brave +deserts purchast to your self, and spred in the mouths of al men: with +which I have also presumed to grace my verses, and, under your name, to +commend to the world this smal poeme; the which beseeching your La: to +take in worth, and of all things therein according to your wonted +graciousnes to make a milde construction, I humbly pray for your +happines. + + +Your La: ever humbly, + +E. S. + + +[Footnote: “This lady was Elizabeth, one of the six daughters of Sir +John Spencer, of Althorpe, in Northamptonshire, and was married to Sir +George Carey, who became Lord Hunsdon on the death of his father, in +1596.”—TODD.] + +MUIOPOTMOS: + +OR + +THE FATE OF THE BUTTERFLIE. + + +I sing of deadly dolorous debate, +Stir’d up through wrathful! Nemesis despight, +Betwixt two mightie ones of great estate, +Drawne into armes and proofe of mortall fight +Through prowd ambition and hart-swelling hate, 5 +Whilest neither could the others greater might +And sdeignfull scorne endure; that from small iarre +Their wraths at length broke into open warre. + + +The roote whereof and tragicall effect, +Vouchsafe, O thou the mournfulst Muse of nyne, 10 +That wontst the tragick stage for to direct, +In funerall complaints and waylfull tyne* +Reveale to me, and all the meanes detect +Through which sad Clarion did at last declyne +To lowest wretchednes: And is there then 15 +Such rancour in the harts of mightie men? +[* _Tyne_, grief.] + + +Of all the race of silver-winged flies +Which doo possesse the empire of the aire, +Betwixt the centred earth and azure skies +Was none more favourable nor more faire, 20 +Whilst heaven did favour his felicities, +Then Clarion, the eldest sonne and haire +Of Muscaroll, and in his fathers sight +Of all alive did seeme the fairest wight. + + +With fruitfull hope his aged breast he fed 25 +Of future good, which his yong toward yeares, +Full of brave courage and bold hardyhed +Above th’ensample of his equall peares, +Did largely promise, and to him fore-red, +(Whilst oft his heart did melt in tender teares,) 30 +That he in time would sure prove such an one, +As should be worthie of his fathers throne. + + +The fresh yong flie, in whom the kindly fire +Of lustfull yongth* began to kindle fast, +Did much disdaine to subiect his desire 35 +To loathsome sloth, or houres in ease to wast; +But ioy’d to range abroad in fresh attire +Through the wide compas of the ayrie coast, +And with unwearied wings each part t’inquire +Of the wide rule of his renownned sire. 40 +[* _Yongth_, youth.] + + +For he so swift and nimble was of flight, +That from this lower tract he dar’d to stie* +Up to the clowdes, and thence with pineons light +To mount aloft unto the christall skie, +To vew the workmanship of heavens hight 45 +Whence down descending he along would flie +Upon the streaming rivers, sport to finde, +And oft would dare to tempt the troublous winde. +[* _Stie_, mount.] + + +So on a summers day, when season milde +With gentle calme the world had quieted, 50 +And high in heaven Hyperions fierie childe +Ascending did his beames abroad dispred, +Whiles all the heavens on lower creatures smilde, +Yong Clarion, with vauntfull lustiehead; +After his guize did cast abroad to fare, 55 +And theretoo gan his furnitures prepare. + + +His breastplate first, that was of substance pure, +Before his noble heart he firmely bound, +That mought his life from yron death assure, +And ward his gentle corpes from cruell wound: 60 +For it by arte was framed to endure +The bit* of balefull steele and bitter stownd**, +No lesse than that which Vulcane made to sheild +Achilles life from fate of Troyan field. +[* _Bit_, bite.] +[** _Stownd_, hour.] + + +And then about his shoulders broad he threw 65 +An hairie hide of some wilde beast, whom hee +In salvage forrest by adventure slew, +And reft the spoyle his ornament to bee; +Which, spredding all his backe with dreadfull vew, +Made all that him so horrible did see 70 +Thinke him Alcides with the lyons skin, +When the Naeméan conquest he did win. + + +Upon his head, his glistering burganet*, +The which was wrought by wonderous device +And curiously engraven, he did set: 75 +The mettall was of rare and passing price; +Not Bilbo** steele, nor brasse from Corinth fet, +Nor costly oricalche from strange Phoenice; +But such as could both Phoebus arrowes ward, +And th’hayling darts of heaven beating hard. 80 +[* _Burganet_, helmet.] +[** _Bilbo_, Bilboa.] + + +Therein two deadly weapons fixt he bore, +Strongly outlaunced towards either side, +Like two sharpe speares, his enemies to gore: +Like as a warlike brigandine, applyde +To fight, layes forth her threatfull pikes afore, 85 +The engines which in them sad death doo hyde, +So did this flie outstretch his fearefull hornes, +Yet so as him their terrour more adornes. + + +Lastly his shinie wings, as silver bright, +Painted with thousand colours passing farre 90 +All painters skill, he did about him dight: +Not halfe so manie sundrie colours arre +In Iris bowe; ne heaven doth shine so bright, +Distinguished with manie a twinckling starre; +Nor Iunoes bird, in her ey-spotted traine, 95 +So manie goodly colours doth containe. + + +Ne (may it be withouten perill spoken) +The Archer-god, the sonne of Cytheree, +That ioyes on wretched lovers to be wroken*, +And heaped spoyles of bleeding harts to see, 100 +Beares in his wings so manie a changefull token. +Ah! my liege Lord, forgive it unto mee, +If ought against thine honour I have tolde; +Yet sure those wings were fairer manifolde. +[* _Wroken_, avenged.] + + +Full many a ladie faire, in court full oft 105 +Beholding them, him secretly envide, +And wisht that two such fannes, so silken soft +And golden faire, her Love would her provide; +Or that, when them the gorgeous flie had doft, +Some one that would with grace be gratifide 110 +From him would steale them privily away, +And bring to her so precious a pray. + + +Report is that Dame Venus on a day, +In spring when flowres doo clothe the fruitful ground, +Walking abroad with all her nymphes to play, 115 +Bad her faire damzels flocking her arownd +To gather flowres, her forhead to array. +Emongst the rest a gentle nymph was found, +Hight Astery, excelling all the crewe +In curteous usage and unstained hewe. 120 + + +Who, being nimbler ioynted than the rest, +And more industrious, gathered more store +Of the fields honour than the others best; +Which they in secret harts envying sore, +Tolde Venus, when her as the worthiest 125 +She praisd’, that Cupide (as they heard before) +Did lend her secret aide in gathering +Into her lap the children of the Spring, + + +Whereof the goddesse gathering iealous feare,— +Not yet unmindfull how not long agoe 130 +Her sonne to Psyche secrete love did beare, +And long it close conceal’d, till mickle woe +Thereof arose, and manie a rufull teare,— +Reason with sudden rage did overgoe; +And, giving hastie credit to th’accuser, 135 +Was led away of them that did abuse her. + + +Eftsoones that damzel by her heavenly might +She turn’d into a winged butterflie, +In the wide aire to make her wandring flight; +And all those flowres, with which so plenteouslie +140 +Her lap she filled had, that bred her spight, +She placed in her wings, for memorie +Of her pretended crime, though crime none were: +Since which that flie them in her wings doth beare. + + +Thus the fresh Clarion, being readie dight, 145 +Unto his iourney did himselfe addresse, +And with good speed began to take his flight: +Over the fields, in his franke* lustinesse; +And all the champion** he soared light; +And all the countrey wide he did possesse, 150 +Feeding upon their pleasures bounteouslie, +That none gainsaid, nor none did him envie. +[* _Franke_, free.] +[** _Champion_, champaign.] + + +The woods, the rivers, and the medowes green. +With his aire-cutting wings he measured wide, +Ne did he leave the mountaines bare unseene, 155 +Nor the ranke grassie fennes delights untride. +But none of these, how ever sweete they beene, +Mote please his fancie nor him cause t’abide: +His choicefull sense with everie change doth flit; +No common things may please a wavering wit. 160 + + +To the gay gardins his unstaid desire +Him wholly caried, to refresh his sprights: +There lavish Nature, in her best attire, +Powres forth sweete odors and alluring sights; +And Arte, with her contending, doth aspire 165 +T’excell the naturall with made delights: +And all that faire or pleasant may be found +In riotous excesse doth there abound. +There he arriving round about doth flie, +From bed to bed, from one to other border; 170 +And takes survey, with curious busie eye, +Of every flowre and herbe there set in order; +Now this, now that, he tasteth tenderly, +Yet none of them he rudely doth disorder, +Ne with his feete their silken leaves deface, 175 +But pastures on the pleasures of each place. + + +And evermore with most varietie, +And change of sweetnesse, (for all change is sweete,) +He casts his glutton sense to satisfie; +Now sucking of the sap of herbe most meete, 180 +Or of the deaw which yet on them does lie, +Now in the same bathing his tender feete: +And then he pearcheth on some braunch thereby, +To weather him, and his moyst wings to dry. + + +And then againe he turneth to his play, 185 +To spoyle the pleasures of that paradise; +The wholsome saulge*, and lavender still gray, +Ranke-smelling rue, and cummin good for eyes, +The roses raigning in the pride of May, +Sharpe isope, good for greene wounds remedies, 190 +Faire marigoldes, and bees-alluring thime, +Sweete marioram, and daysies decking prime: +[* _Saulge_, sage.] + + +Coole violets, and orpine growing still, +Embathed balme, and chearfull galingale, +Fresh costmarie, and breathfull camomill, 195 +Dull poppie, and drink-quickning setuale*, +Veyne-healing verven, and hed-purging dill, +Sound savorie, and bazil hartie-hale, +Fat colworts, and comfórting perseline**, +Colde lettuce, and refreshing rosmarine. 200 +[* _Setuale_, valerian.] +[** _Perseline_, purslain.] + + +And whatso else of vertue good or ill +Grewe in this gardin, fetcht from farre away, +Of everie one he takes and tastes at will, +And on their pleasures greedily doth pray. +Then when he hath both plaid, and fed his fill, 205 +In the warme sunne he doth himselfe embay*, +And there him rests in riotous suffisaunce +Of all his gladfulnes and kingly ioyaunce. +[* _Embay_, bathe.] + + +What more felicitie can fall to creature +Than to enioy delight with libertie, 210 +And to be lord of all the workes of Nature, +To raine in th’aire from earth to highest skie, +To feed on flowres and weeds of glorious feature, +To take whatever thing doth please the eie? +Who rests not pleased with such happines, 215 +Well worthie he to taste of wretchednes. + + +But what on earth can long abide in state? +Or who can him assure of happie day? +Sith morning faire may bring fowle evening late, +And least mishap the most blisse alter may! 220 +For thousand perills lie in close awaite +About us daylie, to worke our decay; +That none, except a God, or God him guide, +May them avoyde, or remedie provide. + + +And whatso heavens in their secret doome 225 +Ordained have, how can fraile fleshly wight +Forecast, but it must needs to issue come? +The sea, the aire, the fire, the day, the night, +And th’armies of their creatures, all and some*, +Do serve to them, and with importune might 230 +Warre against us, the vassals of their will. +Who then can save what they dispose to spill? +[* _All and some_, one and all.] + + +Not thou, O Clarion, though fairest thou +Of all thy kinde, unhappie happie flie, +Whose cruell fate is woven even now 235 +Of loves owne hand, to worke thy miserie! +Ne may thee helpe the manie hartie vow, +Which thy olde sire with sacred pietie +Hath powred forth for thee, and th’altars sprent* +Nought may thee save from heavens avengëment! 240 +[* _Sprent_, sprinkled.] + + +It fortuned (as heavens had behight*) +That in this gardin where yong Clarion +Was wont to solace him, a wicked wight, +The foe of faire things, th’author of confusion, +The shame of Nature, the bondslave of spight, 245 +Had lately built his hatefull mansion; +And, lurking closely, in awayte now lay, +How he might anie in his trap betray. +[* _Behight_, ordained.] + + +But when he spide the ioyous butterflie +In this faire plot dispacing* too and fro, 250 +Fearles of foes and hidden ieopardie, +Lord! how he gan for to bestirre him tho, +And to his wicked worke each part applie! +His heart did earne** against his hated foe, +And bowels so with rankling poyson swelde, 255 +That scarce the skin the strong contagion helde. +[* _Dispacing_, ranging about.] +[** _Earne_, yearn.] + + +The cause why he this flie so maliced* +Was (as in stories it is written found) +For that his mother which him bore and bred, +The most fine-fingred workwoman on ground, 260 +Arachne, by his meanes was vanquished +Of Pallas, and in her owne skill confound**, +When she with her for excellence contended, +That wrought her shame, and sorrow never ended. +[* _Maliced_, bore ill-will to.] +[** _Confound_, confounded.] + + +For the Tritonian goddesse, having hard 265 +Her blazed fame, which all the world had fil’d, +Came downe to prove the truth, and due reward +For her prais-worthie workmanship to yeild: +But the presumptuous damzel rashly dar’d +The goddesse selfe to chalenge to the field, 270 +And to compare with her in curious skill +Of workes with loome, with needle, and with quill. + + +Minerva did the chalenge not refuse, +But deign’d with her the paragon* to make: +So to their worke they sit, and each doth chuse 275 +What storie she will for her tapet** take. +Arachne figur’d how love did abuse +Europa like a bull, and on his backe +Her through the sea did beare; so lively*** seene, +That it true sea and true bull ye would weene. 280 +[* _Paragon_, comparison.] +[** _Tapet_, tapestry.] +[*** _Lively_, life-like.] + + +Shee seem’d still backe unto the land to looke, +And her play-fellowes aide to call, and feare +The dashing of the waves, that up she tooke +Her daintie feete, and garments gathered neare: +But Lord! how she in everie member shooke, 285 +When as the land she saw no more appeare, +But a wilde wildernes of waters deepe: +Then gan she greatly to lament and weepe. + + +Before the bull she pictur’d winged Love, +With his yong brother Sport, light fluttering 290 +Upon the waves, as each had been a dove; +The one his bowe and shafts, the other spring* +A burning teade** about his head did move, +As in their syres new love both triumphing; +And manie Nymphes about them flocking round, 295 +And manie Tritons which their homes did sound. +[* _Spring_, springal, youth.] +[** _Teade_, torch.] + + +And round about her-worke she did empale* +With a faire border wrought of sundrie flowres, +Enwoven with an yviewinding trayle: +A goodly worke, full fit for kingly bowres, 300 +Such as Dame Pallas, such as Envie pale, +That al good things with venemous tooth devowres, +Could not accuse. Then gan the goddesse bright +Her selfe likewise unto her worke to dight. +[* _Empale_, inclose.] + + +She made the storie of the olde debate 305 +Which she with Neptune did for Athens trie: +Twelve gods doo sit around in royall state, +And love in midst with awfull maiestie, +To iudge the strife betweene them stirred late: +Each of the gods by his like visnomie* 310 +Eathe** to be knowen; but love above them all, +By his great lookes and power imperiall. +[* _Visnomie_, countenance.] +[** _Eathe_, easy.] + + +Before them stands the god of seas in place, +Clayming that sea-coast citie as his right, +And strikes the rockes with his three-forked mace; +Whenceforth issues a warlike steed in sight, 316 +The signe by which he chalengeth the place; +That all the gods which saw his wondrous might +Did surely deeme the victorie his due: +But seldom seene, foreiudgement proveth true. 320 + + +Then to herselfe she gives her Aegide shield, +And steel-hed speare, and morion * on her hedd, +Such as she oft is seene in warlicke field: +Then sets she forth, how with her weapon dredd +She smote the ground, the which streight foorth did yield + 325 +A fruitfull olyve tree, with berries spredd, +That all the gods admir’d; then all the storie +She compast with a wreathe of olyves hoarie. +[* _Morion_, steel cap.] + + +Emongst those leaves she made a butterflie, +With excellent device and wondrous slight, 330 +Fluttring among the olives wantonly, +That seem’d to live, so like it was in sight: +The velvet nap which on his wings doth lie, +The silken downe with which his backe is dight, +His broad outstretched homes, his hayrie thies, 335 +His glorious colours, and his glistering eies. + + +Which when Arachne saw, as overlaid * +And mastered with workmanship so rare, +She stood astonied long, ne ought gainesaid; +And with fast fixed eyes on her did stare, 340 +And by her silence, signe of one dismaid, +The victorie did yeeld her as her share; +Yet did she inly fret and felly burne, +And all her blood to poysonous rancor turne: +[* _Overlaid_, overcome.] + + +That shortly from the shape of womanhed, 345 +Such as she was when Pallas she attempted, +She grew to hideous shape of dryrihed*, +Pined with griefe of follie late repented: +Eftsoones her white streight legs were altered +To crooked crawling shankes, of marrowe empted, 350 +And her faire face to foule and loathsome hewe, +And her fine corpes to a bag of venim grewe. +[* _Dryrihed_, sadness, unsightliness.] + + +This cursed creature, mindfull of that olde +Enfestred grudge the which his mother felt, +So soone as Clarion he did beholde, 355 +His heart with vengefull malice inly swelt; +And weaving straight a net with mame a folde +About the cave in which he lurking dwelt, +With fine small cords about it stretched wide, +So finely sponne that scarce they could be spide, +360 + + +Not anie damzell which her vaunteth most +In skilfull knitting of soft silken twyne, +Nor anie weaver, which his worke doth boast +In dieper, in damaske, or in lyne*, +Nor anie skil’d in workmanship embost, 365 +Nor anie skil’d in loupes of fingring fine, +Might in their divers cunning ever dare +With this so curious networks to compare. +[* _Lyne_, linen.] + + +Ne doo I thinke that that same subtil gin +The which the Lemnian god framde craftilie, 370 +Mars sleeping with his wife to compasse in, +That all the gods with common mockerie +Might laugh at them, and scorne their shamefull sin, +Was like to this. This same he did applie +For to entrap the careles Clarion, 375 +That rang’d each where without suspition. + + +Suspition of friend, nor feare of foe, +That hazarded his health, had he at all, +But walkt at will, and wandred too and fro, +In the pride of his freedome principall*: 380 +Litle wist he his fatall future woe, +But was secure; the liker he to fall. +He likest is to fall into mischaunce, +That is regardles of his governaunce. +[* _Principall_, princely.] + + +Yet still Aragnoll (so his foe was hight) 385 +Lay lurking covertly him to surprise; +And all his gins, that him entangle might, +Drest in good order as he could devise. +At length the foolish flie, without foresight, +As he that did all daunger quite despise, 390 +Toward those parts came flying careleslie, +Where hidden was his hatefull enemie. + + +Who, seeing him, with secret ioy therefore +Did tickle inwardly in everie vaine; +And his false hart, fraught with all treasons store, +395 +Was fil’d with hope his purpose to obtaine: +Himselfe he close upgathered more and more +Into his den, that his deceiptfull traine +By his there being might not be bewraid, +Ne anie noyse, ne anie motion made. 400 + + +Like as a wily foxe, that, having spide +Where on a sunnie banke the lambes doo play, +Full closely creeping by the hinder side, +Lyes in ambushment of his hoped pray, +Ne stirreth limbe, till, seeing readie tide*, 405 +He rusheth forth, and snatcheth quite away +One of the litle yonglings unawares; +So to his worke Aragnoll him prepares. +[* _Tide_, time.] + + +Who now shall give unto my heavie eyes +A well of teares, that all may overflow? 410 +Or where shall I finde lamentable cryes, +And mournfull tunes enough my griefe to show? +Helpe, O thou Tragick Muse, me to devise +Notes sad enough, t’expresse this bitter throw: +For loe, the drerie stownd* is now arrived, 415 +That of all happines hath us deprived. +[* _Stownd_, hour.] + + +The luckles Clarion, whether cruell Fate +Or wicked Fortune faultles him misled, +Or some ungracious blast out of the gate +Of Aeoles raine* perforce him drove on hed**, 420 +Was (O sad hap and howre unfortunate!) +With violent swift flight forth caried +Into the cursed cobweb, which his foe +Had framed for his finall overthroe. +[* _Raine_, kingdom.] +[** _On hed_, head-foremost.] + + +There the fond flie, entangled, strugled long, 425 +Himselfe to free thereout; but all in vaine. +For, striving more, the more in laces strong +Himselfe he tide, and wrapt his wingës twaine +In lymie snares the subtill loupes among; +That in the ende he breathelesse did remaine, 430 +And, all his yongthly* forces idly spent, +Him to the mercie of th’avenger lent. +[* _Yongthly_, youthful.] + + +Which when the greisly tyrant did espie, +Like a grimme lyon rushing with fierce might +Out of his den, he seized greedelie 435 +On the resistles pray, and, with fell spight, +Under the left wing stroke his weapon slie +Into his heart, that his deepe-groning spright +In bloodie streames foorth fled into the aire, +His bodie left the spectacle of care. 440 + + +FOOTNOTES + + +Ver. 365.—_And Arte, with her contendlng._ Compare the description of +Aerasia’s garden, Faerie Queene, II. xii. 59; and also v. 29. TODD. + + +Ver. 273.—_Minerva did_, &c. Much of what follows is taken from the +fable of Arachne in Ovid. JORTIN. + + + + +VISIONS +OF +THE WORLDS VANITIE. + +I. + +One day, whiles that my daylie cares did sleepe, +My spirit, shaking off her earthly prison, +Began to enter into meditation deepe +Of things exceeding reach of common reason; +Such as this age, in which all good is geason*, +And all that humble is and meane** debaced, +Hath brought forth in her last declining season, +Griefe of good mindes, to see goodnesse disgraced! +On which when as my thought was throghly@ placed, +Unto my eyes strange showes presented were, +Picturing that which I in minde embraced, +That yet those sights empassion$ me full nere. + Such as they were, faire Ladie%, take in worth, + That when time serves may bring things better forth. + + +[* _Geason_, rare.] [** _Meane_, lowly.] [@ _Throghly_, thoroughly.] [$ +_Empassion_, move.] [% _Faire Ladie._ The names of the ladies to whom +these Visions and those of Petrarch (see p. 210, VII. 9) were inscribed +have not been preserved. C.] + +II. + +In summers day, when Phoebus fairly shone, +I saw a Bull as white as driven snowe, +With gilden hornes embowed like the moone, +In a fresh flowring meadow lying lowe: +Up to his eares the verdant grasse did growe, +And the gay floures did offer to be eaten; +But he with fatnes so did overflows, +That he all wallowed in the weedes downe beaten, +Ne car’d with them his daintie lips to sweeten: +Till that a Brize*, a scorned little creature, +Through his faire hide his angrie sting did threaten, +And vext so sore, that all his goodly feature + And all his plenteous pasture nought him pleased: + So by the small the great is oft diseased**. + +III. + +Beside the fruitfull shore of muddie Nile, +Upon a sunnie banke outstretched lay, +In monstrous length, a mightie Crocodile, +That, cram’d with guiltles blood and greedie pray +Of wretched people travailing that way, +Thought all things lesse than his disdainfull pride. +I saw a little Bird, cal’d Tedula, +The least of thousands which on earth abide, +That forst this hideous beast to open wide +The greisly gates of his devouring hell, +And let him feede, as Nature doth provide, +Upon his iawes, that with blacke venime swell. + Why then should greatest things the least disdaine, + Sith that so small so mightie can constraine? + + +[* _Brize_, a gadfly.] [** _Diseased_, deprived of ease.] + + +III. 7.—Tedula. Spenser appears to mean the bird Trochilos, which, +according to Aristotle, enters the mouth of the crocodile, and picks +her meat out of the monster’s teeth. C. + +IV. + +The kingly bird that beares Ioves thunder-clap +One day did scorne the simple Scarabee*, +Proud of his highest service and good hap, +That made all other foules his thralls to bee. +The silly flie, that no redresse did see, +Spide where the Eagle built his towring nest, +And, kindling fire within the hollow tree, +Burnt up his yong ones, and himselfe distrest; +Ne suffred him in anie place to rest, +But drove in Ioves owne lap his egs to lay; +Where gathering also filth him to infest, +Forst with the filth his egs to fling away: + For which, when as the foule was wroth, said Iove, + “Lo! how the least the greatest may reprove.” + +V. + +Toward the sea turning my troubled eye, +I saw the fish (if fish I may it cleepe**) +That makes the sea before his face to flye, +And with his flaggie finnes doth seeme to sweepe +The fomie waves out of the dreadfull deep; +The huge Leviathan, dame Natures wonder, +Making his sport, that manie makes to weep. +A Sword-fish small him from the rest did sunder +That, in his throat him pricking softly under, +His wide abysse him forced forth to spewe, +That all the sea did roare like heavens thunder, +And all the waves were stain’d with filthie hewe. + Hereby I learned have not to despise + Whatever thing seemes small in common eyes. + + +[* _Scarabee,_ beetle.] [** _Cleepe,_ call.] + +VI. + +An hideous Dragon, dreadfull to behold, +Whose backe was arm’d against the dint of speare +With shields of brasse that shone like burnisht golde, +And forkhed sting that death in it did beare, +Strove with a Spider, his unequall peare, +And bad defiance to his enemie. +The subtill vermin, creeping closely* neare, +Did in his drinke shed poyson privilie; +Which, through his entrailes spredding diversly, +Made him to swell, that nigh his bowells brust, +And him enforst to yeeld the victorie, +That did so much in his owne greatnesse trust. + O, how great vainnesse is it then to scorne + The weake, that hath the strong so oft forlorne!** + + +[* _Closely,_ secretly.] [** _Forlorne,_ ruined.] + +VII. + +High on a hill a goodly Cedar grewe, +Of wondrous length and straight proportion, +That farre abroad her daintie odours threwe; +Mongst all the daughters of proud Libanon, +Her match in beautie was not anie one. +Shortly within her inmost pith there bred +A litle wicked worme, perceiv’d of none, +That on her sap and vitall moysture fed: +Thenceforth her garland so much honoured +Began to die, O great ruth* for the same! +And her faire lockes fell from her loftie head, +That shortly balde and bared she became. + I, which this sight beheld, was much dismayed, + To see so goodly thing so soone decayed. + + +[* _Ruth,_ pity.] + +VIII. + +Soone after this I saw an Elephant, +Adorn’d with bells and bosses gorgeouslie, +That on his backe did beare, as batteilant*, +A gilden towre, which shone exceedinglie; +That he himselfe through foolish vanitie, +Both for his rich attire and goodly forme, +Was puffed up with passing surquedrie**, +And shortly gan all other beasts to scorne, +Till that a little Ant, a silly worme, +Into his nosthrils creeping, so him pained, +That, casting downe his towres, he did deforme +Both borrowed pride, and native beautie stained. + Let therefore nought that great is therein glorie, + Sith so small thing his happines may varie. + + +[* _As batteilant,_ as if equipped for battle.] [** _Surquedrie,_ +presumption.] + +IX. + +Looking far foorth into the ocean wide, +A goodly Ship with banners bravely dight, +And flag in her top-gallant, I espide +Through the maine sea making her merry flight. +Faire blewe the wind into her bosome right, +And th’heavens looked lovely all the while, +That she did seeme to daunce, as in delight, +And at her owne felicitie did smile. +All sodainely there clove unto her keele +A little fish that men call Remora, +Which stopt her course, and held her by the heele, +That winde nor tide could move her thence away. + Straunge thing me seemeth, that so small a thing + Should able be so great an one to wring. + +X. + +A mighty Lyon, lord of all the wood, +Having his hunger throughly satisfide +With pray of beasts and spoyle of living blood, +Safe in his dreadles den him thought to hide: +His sternesse was his prayse, his strength his pride, +And all his glory in his cruell clawes. +I saw a Wasp, that fiercely him defide, +And bad him battaile even to his iawes; +Sore he him stong, that it the blood forth drawes, +And his proude heart is fild with fretting ire: +In vaine he threats his teeth, his tayle, his pawes, +And from his bloodie eyes doth sparkle fire; + That dead himselfe he wisheth for despight. + So weakest may anoy the most of might! + +XI. + +What time the Romaine Empire bore the raine +Of all the world, and florisht most in might, +The nations gan their soveraigntie disdaine, +And cast to quitt them from their bondage quight. +So, when all shrouded were in silent night, +The Galles were, by corrupting of a mayde, +Possest nigh of the Capitol through slight, +Had not a Goose the treachery bewrayde. +If then a goose great Rome from ruine stayde, +And Iove himselfe, the patron of the place, +Preservd from being to his foes betrayde, +Why do vaine men mean things so much deface*, + And in their might repose their most assurance, + Sith nought on earth can chalenge long endurance? + + +[* _Deface,_ disparage, despise.] + +XII. + +When these sad sights were overpast and gone, +My spright was greatly moved in her rest, +With inward ruth and deare affection, +To see so great things by so small distrest. +Thenceforth I gan in my engrieved brest +To scorne all difference of great and small, +Sith that the greatest often are opprest, +And unawares doe into daunger fall. +And ye, that read these ruines tragicall, +Learne, by their losse, to love the low degree; +And if that Fortune chaunce you up to call +To honours seat, forget not what you be: + For he that of himselfe is most secure + Shall finde his state most fickle and unsure. + + + + +THE VISIONS OF BELLAY.* + + +[* Eleven of these Visions of Bellay (all except the 6th, 8th, 13th, +and 14th) differ only by a few changes necessary for rhyme from +blank-verse translations found in Van der Noodt’s _Theatre of +Worldlings_, printed in 1569; and the six first of the Visions of +Petrarch (here said to have been “formerly translated”) occur almost +word for word in the same publication, where the authorship appears to +be claimed by one Theodore Roest. The Complaints were collected, not by +Spenser, but by Ponsonby, his bookseller, and he may have erred in +ascribing these Visions to our poet. C.] + +I. + +It was the time when rest, soft sliding downe +From heavens hight into mens heavy eyes, +In the forgetfulnes of sleepe doth drowne +The carefull thoughts of mortall miseries. +Then did a ghost before mine eyes appeare, +On that great rivers banck that runnes by Rome; +Which, calling me by name, bad me to reare +My lookes to heaven whence all good gifts do come, +And crying lowd, “Loe! now beholde,” quoth hee, +“What under this great temple placed is: +Lo, all is nought but flying vanitee!” +So I, that know this worlds inconstancies, + Sith onely God surmounts all times decay, + In God alone my confidence do stay. + +II. + +On high hills top I saw a stately frame, +An hundred cubits high by iust assize*, +With hundreth pillours fronting faire the same, +All wrought with diamond after Dorick wize. +Nor brick nor marble was the wall in view, +But shining christall, which from top to base +Out of her womb a thousand rayons** threw +On hundred steps of Afrike golds enchase.@ +Golde was the parget,$ and the seeling bright +Did shine all scaly with great plates of golde; +The floore of iasp and emeraude was dight.% +O worlds vainesse! Whiles thus I did behold, + An earthquake shooke the hill from lowest seat, + And overthrew this frame with ruine great. + + +[* _Assize_, measure.] [** _Rayons_, beams, rays.] [@ I.e. enchased +with gold.] [$ _Parget_, varnish, plaster.] [% _Dight_, composed.] + +III. + +Then did a sharped spyre of diamond bright, +Ten feete each way in square, appeare to mee, +Iustly proportion’d up unto his hight, +So far as archer might his level see. +The top thereof a pot did seeme to beare, +Made of the mettall which we most do honour; +And in this golden vessel couched weare +The ashes of a mightie emperour: +Upon foure corners of the base were pight*, +To beare the frame, foure great lyons of gold; +A worthy tombe for such a worthy wight. +Alas! this world doth nought but grievance hold: + I saw a tempest from the heaven descend, + Which this brave monument with flash did rend. +[* _Pight_, placed.] + +IV. + +I saw raysde up on yvorie pillowes tall, +Whose bases were of richest mettalls warke, +The chapters* alablaster, the fryses christall, +The double front of a triumphall arke. +On each side purtraid was a Victorie, +Clad like a nimph, that wings of silver weares, +And in triumphant chayre was set on hie, +The auncient glory of the Romaine peares. +No worke it seem’d of earthly craftsmans wit, +But rather wrought by his owne industry +That thunder-dartes for Iove his syre doth fit. +Let me no more see faire thing under sky, + Sith that mine eyes have seene so faire a sight + With sodain fall to dust consumed quight. +[* _Chapters_, capitals.] + +V. + +Then was the faire Dodonian tree far seene +Upon seaven hills to spread his gladsome gleame, +And conquerours bedecked with his greene, +Along the bancks of the Ausonian streame. +There many an auncient trophee was addrest*, +And many a spoyle, and many a goodly show, +Which that brave races greatnes did attest, +That whilome from the Troyan blood did flow. +Ravisht I was so rare a thing to vew; +When lo! a barbarous troupe of clownish fone** +The honour of these noble boughs down threw: +Under the wedge I heard the tronck to grone; + And since, I saw the roote in great disdaine + A twinne of forked trees send forth againe. + + +[* _Addrest_, hung on, arranged.] [** _Fone_, foes.] + +VI. + +I saw a wolfe under a rockie cave +Noursing two whelpes; I saw her litle ones +In wanton dalliance the teate to crave, +While she her neck wreath’d from them for the nones*. +I saw her raunge abroad to seeke her food, +And roming through the field with greedie rage +T’embrew her teeth and clawes with lukewarm blood +Of the small heards, her thirst for to asswage. +I saw a thousand huntsmen, which descended +Downe from the mountaines bordring Lombardie, +That with an hundred speares her flank wide rened: +I saw her on the plaine outstretched lie, + Throwing out thousand throbs in her owne soyle**: + Soone on a tree uphang’d I saw her spoyle. + + +[* _Nones_, nonce.] [** I.e. the mire made by her blood.] + +VII. + +I saw the bird that can the sun endure +With feeble wings assay to mount on hight; +By more and more she gan her wings t’assure, +Following th’ensample of her mothers sight. +I saw her rise, and with a larger flight +To pierce the cloudes, and with wide pinneons +To measure the most haughtie* mountaines hight, +Untill she raught** the gods owne mansions. +There was she lost; when suddaine I behelde, +Where, tumbling through the ayre in firie fold, +All flaming downe she on the plaine was felde, +And soone her bodie turn’d to ashes colde. + I saw the foule that doth the light dispise + Out of her dust like to a worme arise. +[* _Haughtie_, lofty.] +[** _Raught_, reached.] +[VII. 1-14.— +“A falcon, tow’ring in her pride of place, + Was by a mousing owl hawk’d at and kill’d.” C.] + +VIII. + +I saw a river swift, whose fomy billowes +Did wash the ground-work of an old great wall; +I saw it cover’d all with griesly shadowes, +That with black horror did the ayre appall: +Thereout a strange beast with seven heads arose, +That townes and castles under her brest did coure*, +And seem’d both milder beasts and fiercer foes +Alike with equall ravine to devoure. +Much was I mazde to see this monsters kinde +In hundred formes to change his fearefull hew; +When as at length I saw the wrathfull winde, +Which blows cold storms, burst out of Scithian mew, + That sperst these cloudes; and, in so short as thought, + This dreadfull shape was vanished to nought. +[* _Coure_, cover.] + +IX. + +Then all astonied with this mighty ghoast, +An hideous bodie, big and strong, I sawe, +With side* long beard, and locks down hanging loast**, +Sterne face, and front full of Satúrnlike awe; +Who, leaning on the belly of a pot, +Pourd foorth a water, whose out gushing flood +Ran bathing all the creakie@ shore aflot, +Whereon the Troyan prince spilt Turnus blood; +And at his feete a bitch wolfe suck did yeeld +To two young babes: his left the palme tree stout, +His right hand did the peacefull olive wield. +And head with lawrell garnisht was about. + Sudden both palme and olive fell away, + And faire green lawrell branch did quite decay. +[* _Side_, long, trailing.] +[** _Loast_, loosed.] +[@ _Creakie_, indented with creeks.] + +X. + +Hard by a rivers side a virgin faire, +Folding her armes to heaven with thousand throbs, +And outraging her cheekes and golden haire, +To falling rivers sound thus tun’d her sobs. +“Where is,” quoth she, “this whilom honoured face? +Where the great glorie and the auncient praise, +In which all worlds felicitie had place, +When gods and men my honour up did raise? +Suffisd’ it not that civill warres me made +The whole worlds spoile, but that this Hydra new, +Of hundred Hercules to be assaide, +With seven heads, budding monstrous crimes anew, + So many Neroes and Caligulaes + Out of these crooked shores must dayly rayse?” + +XI. + +Upon an hill a bright flame I did see, +Waving aloft with triple point to skie, +Which, like incense of precious cedar tree, +With balmie odours fil’d th’ayre farre and nie. +A bird all white, well feathered on each wing, +Hereout up to the throne of gods did flie, +And all the way most pleasant notes did sing, +Whilst in the smoake she unto heaven did stie*. +Of this faire fire the scattered rayes forth threw +On everie side a thousand shining beames: +When sudden dropping of a silver dew +(O grievous chance!) gan quench those precious flames; + That it, which earst** so pleasant sent did yeld, + Of nothing now but noyous sulphure smeld. +[* _Stie_, mount.] +[** _Earst_, at first.] + +XII. + +I saw a spring out of a rocke forth rayle*, +As cleare as christall gainst the sunnie beames; +The bottome yeallow, like the golden grayle* +That bright Pactolus washeth with his streames. +It seem’d that Art and Nature had assembled +All pleasure there for which mans hart could long; +And there a noyse alluring sleepe soft trembled, +Of manie accords, more sweete than mermaids song, +The seates and benches shone as yvorie, +And hundred nymphes sate side by side about; +When from nigh hills, with hideous outcrie, +A troupe of satyres in the place did rout,@ +Which with their villeine feete the streame did ray,$ +Threw down the seats, and drove the nymphs away. +[* _Rayle_, flow.] +[** _Grayle_, gravel.] +[@ _Rout_, burst.] +[$ _Ray_, defile.] + +XIII. + +Much richer then that vessell seem’d to bee +Which did to that sad Florentine appeare, +Casting mine eyes farre off, I chaunst to see +Upon the Latine coast herselfe to reare. +But suddenly arose a tempest great, +Bearing close envie to these riches rare, +Which gan assaile this ship with dreadfull threat, +This ship, to which none other might compare: +And finally the storme impetuous +Sunke up these riches, second unto none, +Within the gulfe of greedie Nereus. +I saw both ship and mariners each one, + And all that treasure, drowned in the maine: + But I the ship saw after raisd’ againe. +[XIII. 1.—_That vessell_. See the second canto of the Purgatorio. C.] + +XIV. + +Long having deeply gron’d these visions sad, +I saw a citie like unto that same +Which saw the messenger of tidings glad, +But that on sand was built the goodly frame: +It seem’d her top the firmament did rayse, +And, no lesse rich than faire, right worthie sure +(If ought here worthie) of immortall dayes, +Or if ought under heaven might firme endure. +Much wondred I to see so faire a wall: +When from the Northerns coast a storme arose, +Which, breathing furie from his inward gall +On all which did against his course oppose, + Into a clowde of dust sperst in the aire + The weake foundations of this citie faire. + +XV. + +At length, even at the time when Morpheus +Most trulie doth unto our eyes appeare, +Wearie to see the heavens still wavering thus, +I saw Typhaeus sister* comming neare; +Whose head, full bravely with a morion** hidd, +Did seeme to match the gods in maiestie. +She, by a rivers bancke that swift downe slidd, +Over all the world did raise a trophee hie; +An hundred vanquisht kings under her lay, +With armes bound at their backs in shamefull wize. +Whilst I thus mazed was with great affray, +I saw the heavens in warre against her rize: + Then downe she stricken fell with clap of thonder, + That with great noyse I wakte in sudden wonder. +[* I.e. (apparently) Change or Mutability. See the two cantos of the +Seventh Book of the Faerie Queene.] +[** _Morion_, steel cap.] + + + + +THE VISIONS OF PETRARCH: + + +FORMERLY TRANSLATED. + + +[Footnote: The first six of these sonnets are translated (not directly, +but through the French of Clement Marot) from Petrarch’s third Canzone +in Morte di Laura. The seventh is by the translator. The circumstance +that the version is made from Marot renders it probable that these +sonnets are really by Spenser. C.] + +I. + +Being one day at my window all alone, +So manie strange things happened me to see, +As much it grieveth me to thinke thereon. +At my right hand a hynde appear’d to mee. +So faire as mote the greatest god delite; +Two eager dogs did her pursue in chace, +Of which the one was blacke, the other white. +With deadly force so in their cruell race +They pincht the haunches of that gentle beast, +That at the last, and in short time, I spide, +Under a rocke, where she, alas! opprest, +Fell to the ground, and there untimely dide. + Cruell death vanquishing so noble beautie, + Oft makes me wayle so hard a destenie. + +II. + +After, at sea a tall ship did appeare, +Made all of heben* and white yvorie; +The sailes of golde, of silke the tackle were. +Milde was the winde, calme seem’d the sea to bee, +The skie eachwhere did show full bright and faire: +With rich treasures this gay ship fraighted was: +But sudden storme did so turmoyle the aire, +And tumbled up the sea, that she, alas! +Strake on a rock, that under water lay, +And perished past all recoverie. +O! how great ruth, and sorrow-full assay**, +Doth vex my spirite with perplexitie, + Thus in a moment to see lost and drown’d + So great riches as like cannot be found. +[* _Heben_, ebony.] +[** _Assay_, trial.] + +III. + +The heavenly branches did I see arise +Out of the fresh and lustie lawrell tree, +Amidst the yong greene wood: of Paradise +Some noble plant I thought my selfe to see. +Such store of birds therein yshrowded were, +Chaunting in shade their sundrie melodie, +That with their sweetnes I was ravish’t nere. +While on this lawrell fixed was mine eie, +The skie gan everie where to overcast, +And darkned was the welkin all about, +When sudden flash of heavens fire out brast*, +And rent this royall tree quite by the roote; + Which makes me much and ever to complaine, + For no such shadow shalbe had againe. +[* _Brast_, burst.] + +IV. + +Within this wood, out of a rocke did rise +A spring of water, mildly rumbling downe, +Whereto approched not in anie wise +The homely shepheard, nor the ruder clowne; +But manie Muses, and the Nymphes withall, +That sweetly in accord did tune their voyce +To the soft sounding of the waters fall; +That my glad hart thereat did much reioyce. +But, while herein I tooke my chiefe delight, +I saw, alas! the gaping earth devoure +The spring, the place, and all cleane out of sight; +Which yet aggreeves my hart even to this houre, + And wounds my soule with rufull memorie, + To see such pleasures gon so suddenly. + +V. + +I saw a Phoenix in the wood alone, +With purple wings and crest of golden hewe; +Strange bird he was, whereby I thought anone +That of some heavenly wight I had the vewe; +Untill he came unto the broken tree, +And to the spring that late devoured was. +What say I more? Each thing at last we see +Doth passe away: the Phoenix there, alas! +Spying the tree destroid, the water dride, +Himselfe smote with his beake, as in disdaine, +And so foorthwith in great despight he dide; +That yet my heart burnes in exceeding paine + For ruth and pitie of so haples plight. + O, let mine eyes no more see such a sight! + +VI. + +At last, so faire a ladie did I spie, +That thinking yet on her I burne and quake: +On hearbs and flowres she walked pensively; +Milde, but yet love she proudly did forsake: +White seem’d her robes, yet woven so they were +As snow and golde together had been wrought: +Above the wast a darke clowde shrouded her. +A stinging serpent by the heele her caught; +Wherewith she languisht as the gathered floure, +And, well assur’d, she mounted up to ioy. +Alas! on earth so nothing doth endure, +But bitter griefe and sorrowfull annoy: + Which make this life wretched and miserable. + Tossed with stormes of fortune variable. + +VII. + +When I behold this tickle* trustles state +Of vaine worlds glorie, flitting too and fro, +And mortall men tossed by troublous fate +In restles seas of wretchednes and woe, +I wish I might this wearie life forgoe, +And shortly turne unto my happie rest, +Where my free spirite might not anie moe +Be vest with sights that doo her peace molest. +And ye, faire Ladie, in whose bounteous brest +All heavenly grace and vertue shrined is, +When ye these rythmes doo read, and vew the rest, +Loath this base world, and thinke of heavens blis: + And though ye be the fairest of Gods creatures, + Yet thinke that death shall spoyle your goodly features. +[* _Tickle_, uncertain.] + + + + +DAPHNAIDA: + +AN ELEGIE + +UPON THE DEATH OF THE NOBLE AND VERTUOUS + +DOUGLAS HOWARD, + +DAUGHTER AND HEIRE OF HENRY LORD HOWARD, VISCOUNT BYNDON, AND WIFE OF +ARTHUR GORGES, ESQUIER. + +DEDICATED TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE + +THE LADIE HELENA, + +MARQUESSE OF NORTHAMPTON. + +BY ED. SP. + + +(1591.) + +TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE AND VERTUOUS LADY, + +HELENA, + +MARQUESSE OF NORTH HAMPTON.[*] + + +I have the rather presumed humbly to offer unto your Honour the +dedication of this little poeme, for that the noble and vertuous +gentlewoman of whom it is written was by match neere alied, and in +affection greatly devoted, unto your Ladiship. The occasion why I wrote +the same was as well the great good fame which I heard of her +deceassed, as the particular goodwill which I bear unto her husband, +Master Arthur Gorges, a lover of learning and vertue, whose house, as +your Ladiship by marriage hath honoured, so doe I find the name of +them, by many notable records, to be of great antiquitie in this +realme, and such as have ever borne themselves with honourable +reputation to the world, and unspotted loyaltie to their prince and +countrey: besides, so lineally are they descended from the Howards, as +that the Lady Anne Howard; eldest daughter to John Duke of Norfolke, +was wife to Sir Edmund, mother to Sir Edward, and grandmother to Sir +William and Sir Thomas Gorges, Knightes: and therefore I doe assure my +selfe that no due honour done to the White Lyon, but will be most +gratefull to your Ladiship, whose husband and children do so neerely +participate with the bloud of that noble family. So in all dutie I +recommend this pamphlet, and the good acceptance thereof, to your +honourable favour and protection. London, this first of Ianuarie, 1591. + + +Your Honours humbly ever. + + +[* This lady, when widow of William Parr, the only person who was ever +Marquis of Northampton, had married Sir Thomas Gorges, uncle of Lady +Douglas Howard, the subject of this elegy. Mr. (afterwards Sir) Arthur +Gorges was himself a poet, and the author of the English translation of +Bacon’s tract _De Sapientia Veterum_, published in 1619. See Craik’s +Spenser and his Poetry, Vol. III. p. 187. C.] + + +DAPHNAIDA. + +Whatever man he be whose heavie mynd, +With griefe of mournefull great mishap opprest, +Fit matter for his cares increase would fynd, +Let reade the rufull plaint herein exprest, +Of one, I weene, the wofulst man alive, +Even sad Alcyon*, whose empierced brest +Sharpe sorrowe did in thousand peeces rive. + [* I.e. Sir Arthur Gorges.] + + +But whoso else in pleasure findeth sense, +Or in this wretched life doeth take delight, +Let him he banisht farre away from hence; 10 +Ne let the Sacred Sisters here be hight*, +Though they of sorrowe heavilie can sing, +For even their heavie song would breede delight; +But here no tunes save sobs and grones shall ring. + [* _Hight_, summoned.] + + +In stead of them and their sweet harmonie, 15 +Let those three Fatall Sisters, whose sad hands +Doe weave the direfull threeds of destinie, +And in their wrath break off the vitall bands, +Approach hereto; and let the dreadfull Queene +Of Darknes deepe come from the Stygian strands, 20 +And grisly ghosts, to heare this dolefull teene*, + [* _Teene_, sorrow] + + +In gloomy evening, when the wearie sun +After his dayes long labour drew to rest, +And sweatie steedes, now having overrun +The compast skie, gan water in the west, 25 +I walkt abroad to breath the freshing ayre +In open fields, whose flowring pride, opprest +With early frosts, had lost their beautie faire. + + +There came unto my mind a troublous thought, +Which dayly doth my weaker wit possesse, 30 +Ne lets it rest untill it forth have brought +Her long borne infant, fruit of heavinesse, +Which she conceived hath through meditation +Of this worlds vainnesse and life’s wretchednesse, +That yet my soule it deepely doth empassion*. 35 + [* _Empassion_, move] + + +So as I muzed on the miserie +In which men live, and I of many most, +Most miserable man, I did espie +Where towards me a sory wight did cost*, +Clad all in black, that mourning did bewray, 40 +And Iacob staffe ** in hand devoutly crost, +Like to some pilgrim come from farre away. + [* _Cost_, approach] + [** _Iacob staffe_, a pilgrim’s staff, in the form of a cross] + + +His carelesse locks, uncombed and unshorne, +Hong long adowne, and bearde all overgrowne, +That well he seemd to be some wight forlorne: 45 +Downe to the earth his heavie eyes were throwne, +As loathing light, and ever as he went +He sighed soft, and inly deepe did grone, +As if his heart in peeces would have rent. + + +Approaching nigh his face I vewed nere, 50 +And by the semblant of his countenaunce +Me seemd I had his person seene elsewhere, +Most like Alcyon seeming at a glaunce; +Alcyon he, the iollie shepheard swaine, +That wont full merrilie to pipe and daunce, 55 +And fill with pleasance every wood and plaine. + + +Yet halfe in doubt, because of his disguize, +I softlie sayd, Alcyon! There-withall +He lookt aside as in disdainefull wise, +Yet stayed not, till I againe did call: 60 +Then, turning back, he saide, with hollow sound, +“Who is it that dooth name me, wofull thrall, +The wretchedst man that treads this day on ground?” + + +“One whom like wofulnesse, impressed deepe, +Hath made fit mate thy wretched case to heare, 65 +And given like cause with thee to waile and wepe; +Griefe finds some ease by him that like does beare. +Then stay, Alcyon, gentle shepheard! stay,” +Quoth I, “till thou have to my trustie eare +Committed what thee dooth so ill apay*.” 70 + [* _Ill apay _, discontent, distress.] + + +“Cease, foolish man!” saide he halfe wrothfully, +“To seeke to heare that which cannot be told; +For the huge anguish, which doeth multiply +My dying paines, no tongue can well unfold; +Ne doo I care that any should bemone 75 +My hard mishap, or any weepe that would, +But seeke alone to weepe, and dye alone.” + + +“Then be it so,” quoth I, “that thou are bent +To die alone, unpitied, unplained; +Yet, ere thou die, it were convenient 80 +To tell the cause which thee thereto constrained, +Least that the world thee dead accuse of guilt, +And say, when thou of none shall be maintained, +That thou for secret crime thy blood hast spilt.” + + +“Who life does loath, and longs to be unbound 85 +From the strong shackles of fraile flesh,” quoth he, +“Nought cares at all what they that live on ground +Deem the occasion of his death to bee; +Rather desires to be forgotten quight, +Than question made of his calamitie; 90 +For harts deep sorrow hates both life and light. + + +“Yet since so much thou seemst to rue my griefe, +And car’st for one that for himselfe cares nought, +(Sign of thy love, though nought for my reliefe, +For my reliefe exceedeth living thought,) 95 +I will to thee this heavie case relate: +Then harken well till it to end be brought, +For never didst thou heare more haplesse fate. + + +“Whilome I usde (as thou right well doest know) +My little flocke on westerns downes to keep, 100 +Not far from whence Sabrinaes streame doth flow, +And flowrie bancks with silver liquor steepe; +Nought carde I then for worldly change or chaunce, +For all my ioy was on my gentle sheepe, +And to my pype to caroll and to daunce. 105 + + +“It there befell, as I the fields did range +Fearlesse and free, a faire young Lionesse, +White as the native rose before the chaunge +Which Venus blood did in her leaves impresse, +I spied playing on the grassie plaine 110 +Her youthfull sports and kindlie wantonnesse, +That did all other beasts in beawtie staine. + [Ver. 107.—_A fair young Lionesse,_ So called from the white lion in + the arms of the Duke of Norfolk, the head of the family to which Lady + Douglas Howard belonged. H.] + + +“Much was I moved at so goodly sight, +Whose like before mine eye had seldome seene, +And gan to cast how I her compasse might, 115 +And bring to hand that yet had never beene: +So well I wrought with mildnes and with paine, +That I her caught disporting on the greene, +And brought away fast bound with silver chaine. + + +“And afterwardes I handled her so fayre, 120 +That though by kind shee stout and salvage were, +For being borne an auncient lions hayre, +And of the race that all wild beastes do feare, +Yet I her fram’d, and wan so to my bent, +That shee became so meeke and milde of cheare 125 +As the least lamb in all my flock that went. + + +“For shee in field, where-ever I did wend, +Would wend with me, and waite by me all day; +And all the night that I in watch did spend, +If cause requir’d, or els in sleepe, if nay, 130 +Shee would all night by me or watch or sleepe; +And evermore when I did sleepe or play, +She of my flock would take full warie keepe*. + [* _Keepe_, care.] + + +“Safe then, and safest, were my sillie sheepe, +Ne fear’d the wolfe, ne fear’d the wildest beast, +135 +All* were I drown’d in carelesse quiet deepe: +My lovely Lionesse without beheast +So careful was for them and for my good, +That when I waked, neither most nor least +I found miscarried, or in plaine or wood. 140 + [* _All_, although.] + + +“Oft did the shepheards which my hap did heare, +And oft their lasses, which my luck envyde, +Daylie resort to me from farre and neare, +To see my Lyonesse, whose praises wyde +Were spred abroad; and when her worthinesse 145 +Much greater than the rude report they tryde*, +They her did praise, and my good fortune blesse. + [* _Tryde_, proved, found.] + + +“Long thus I ioyed in my happinesse, +And well did hope my ioy would have no end; +But oh! fond man! that in worlds ficklenesse 150 +Reposedst hope, or weenedst Her thy frend +That glories most in mortall miseries, +And daylie doth her changefull counsels bend +To make new matter fit for tragedies. + + +“For whilest I was thus without dread or dout, 155 +A cruel Satyre with his murdrous dart, +Greedie of mischiefe, ranging all about, +Gave her the fatall wound of deadly smart, +And reft from me my sweete companion, +And reft from me my love, my life, my hart: 160 +My Lyonesse, ah woe is me! is gon! + + +“Out of the world thus was she reft away, +Out of the world, unworthy such a spoyle, +And borne to heaven, for heaven a fitter pray; +Much fitter then the lyon which with toyle 165 +Alcides slew, and fixt in firmament; +Her now I seeke throughout this earthly soyle, +And seeking misse, and missing doe lament.” + + +Therewith he gan afresh to waile and weepe, +That I for pittie of his heavie plight 170 +Could not abstain mine eyes with teares to steepe; +But when I saw the anguish of his spright +Some deale alaid, I him bespake againe: +“Certes, Alcyon, painfull is thy plight, +That it in me breeds almost equall paine, 175 + + +“Yet doth not my dull wit well understand +The riddle of thy loved Lionesse; +For rare it seemes in reason to be skand, +That man, who doth the whole worlds rule possesse, +Should to a beast his noble hart embase, 180 +And be the vassall of his vassalesse; +Therefore more plain areade* this doubtfull case.” + [* _Areade_, explain.] + + +Then sighing sore, “Daphne thou knew’st,” quoth he; +“She now is dead”: no more endur’d to say, +But fell to ground for great extremitie; 185 +That I, beholding it, with deepe dismay +Was much apald, and, lightly him uprearing, +Revoked life, that would have fled away, +All were my selfe through grief in deadly drearing*. + [* _Drearing_, sorrowing.] + + +Then gan I him to comfort all my best, 190 +And with milde counsaile strove to mitigate +The stormie passion of his troubled brest; +But he thereby was more empassionate, +As stubborne steed that is with curb restrained +Becomes more fierce and fervent in his gate, 195 +And, breaking foorth at last, thus dearnely* plained: + [* _Dearnely_, sadly.] + +I. + +“What man henceforth that breatheth vitall aire +Will honour Heaven, or heavenly powers adore, +Which so uniustly doth their iudgements share +Mongst earthly wights, as to afflict so sore 200 +The innocent as those which do transgresse, +And doe not spare the best or fairest more +Than worst or foulest, but doe both oppresse? + + +“If this be right, why did they then create +The world so faire, sith fairenesse is neglected? +205 +Or why be they themselves immaculate, +If purest things be not by them respected? +She faire, she pure, most faire, most pure she was, +Yet was by them as thing impure reiected; +Yet she in purenesse heaven it self did pas. 210 + + +“In purenesse, and in all celestiall grace +That men admire in goodly womankind, +She did excell, and seem’d of angels race, +Living on earth like angell new divinde*, +Adorn’d with wisedome and with chastitie, 215 +And all the dowries of a noble mind, +Which did her beautie much more beautifie. + [* _Divinde_, deified.] + + +“No age hath bred (since faire Astræa left +The sinfull world) more vertue in a wight; +And, when she parted hence, with her she reft 220 +Great hope, and robd her race of bounty* quight. +Well may the shepheard lasses now lament; +For doubble losse by her hath on them light, +To loose both her and bounties ornament. + [* _Bounty_, goodness.] + + +“Ne let Elisa, royall shepheardesse, 225 +The praises of my parted* love envy, +For she hath praises in all plenteousnesse +Powr’d upon her, like showers of Castaly, +By her owne shepheard, Colin, her own shepheard, +That her with heavenly hymnes doth deifie, 230 +Of rusticke Muse full hardly to be betterd. + [* _Parted_, departed.] + + +“She is the rose, the glory of the day, +And mine the primrose in the lowly shade: +Mine? ah, not mine! amisse I mine did say: +Not mine, but His which mine awhile her made; 235 +Mine to be-his, with him to live for ay. +O that so faire a flowre so soon should fade, +And through untimely tempest fall away! + + +“She fell away in her first ages spring, +Whilst yet her leafe was greene, and fresh her rinde; +And whilst her braunch faire blossomes foorth did bring, + 241 +She fell away against all course of kinde*. +For age to dye is right, but youth is wrong; +She fell away like fruit blowne down with winde. +Weepe, Shepheard! weepe, to make my undersong**. + [* _Kinde_, nature.] + [** _Undersong_, accompaniment.] + +II. + +“What hart so stonie hard but that would weepe. +And poure forth fountaines of incessant teares? +What Timon but would let compassion creepe +Into his breast, and pierce his frosen eares? +In stead of teares, whose brackish bitter well 250 +I wasted have, my heart bloud dropping weares, +To think to ground how that faire blossome fell. + + +“Yet fell she not as one enforst to dye, +Ne dyde with dread and grudging discontent, +But as one toyld with travell downe doth lye, 255 +So lay she downe, as if to sleepe she went, +And closde her eyes with carelesse quietriesse; +The whiles soft death away her spirit hent*, +And soule assoyld** from sinfull fleshlinesse. + [* _Hent_, took] + [** _Assoyld_, absolved.] + + +“Yet ere that life her lodging did forsake, 260 +She, all resolv’d, and readie to remove, +Calling to me (ay me!) this wise bespake; +‘Alcyon! ah, my first and latest love! +Ah! why does my Alcyon weepe and mourne, +And grieve my ghost, that ill mote him behove, 265 +As if to me had chaunst some evill tourne! + + +“‘I, since the messenger is come for mee +That summons soules unto the bridale feast +Of his great Lord, must needs depart from thee, +And straight obay his soveraine beheast; 270 +Why should Alcyon then so sore lament +That I from miserie shall be releast, +And freed from wretched long imprisonment! + + +“‘Our daies are full of dolour and disease. +Our life afflicted with incessant paine, 275 +That nought on earth may lessen or appease; +Why then should I desire here to remaine! +Or why should he that loves me sorrie bee +For my deliverance, or at all complaine +My good to heare, and toward* ioyes to see! 280 + [* _Toward,_ preparing, near at hand.] + + +“‘I goe, and long desired have to goe; +I goe with gladnesse to my wished rest, +Whereas* no worlds sad care nor wasting woe +May come, their happie quiet to molest; +But saints and angels in celestiall thrones 285 +Eternally Him praise that hath them blest; +There shall I be amongst those blessed ones. + [* _Whereas,_ where.] + + +“‘Yet, ere I goe, a pledge I leave with thee +Of the late love the which betwixt us past; +My young Ambrosia; in lieu of mee, 290 +Love her; so shall our love for ever last. +Thus, deare! adieu, whom I expect ere long.’— +So having said, away she softly past; +Weepe, Shepheard! weepe, to make mine undersong. + +III. + +“So oft as I record those piercing words, 295 +Which yet are deepe engraven in my brest, +And those last deadly accents, which like swords +Did wound my heart and rend my bleeding chest, +With those sweet sugred speeches doe compare +The which my soul first conquerd and possest, 300 +The first beginners of my endlesse care, + + +“And when those pallid cheekes and ashe hew, +In which sad Death his pourtraiture had writ, +And when those hollow eyes and deadly view, +On which the cloud of ghastly night did sit, 305 +I match, with that sweete smile and chearful brow, +Which all the world subdued unto it, +How happie was I then, and wretched now! + + +“How happie was I when I saw her leade +The shepheards daughters dauncing in a rownd! 310 +How trimly would she trace* and softly tread +The tender grasse, with rosye garland crownd! +And when she list advaunce her heavenly voyce, +Both Nymphes and Muses nigh she made astownd, +And flocks and shepheards caused to reioyce. 315 + [* _Trace_, step] + + +“But now, ye shepheard lasses! who shall lead +Your wandring troupes, or sing your virelayes*? +Or who shall dight** your bowres, sith she is dead +That was the lady of your holy-dayes? +Let now your blisse be turned into bale, 320 +And into plaints convert your ioyous playes, +And with the same fill every hill and dale. + [* _Virelayes_, roundelays.] + [** _Dight_, deck.] + + +“Let bagpipe never more be heard to shrill, +That may allure the senses to delight, +Ne ever shepheard sound his oaten quill 325 +Unto the many*, that provoke them might +To idle pleasance; but let ghastlinesse +And drearie horror dim the chearfull light, +To make the image of true heavinesse. + [* _Many_, company.] + + +“Let birds be silent on the naked spray, 330 +And shady woods resound with dreadfull yells; +Let streaming floods their hastie courses stay, +And parching drouth drie up the cristall wells; +Let th’earth be barren, and bring foorth no flowres, +And th’ayre be fild with noyse of dolefull knells, +335 +And wandring spirits walke untimely howres. + + +“And Nature, nurse of every living thing, +Let rest her selfe from her long wearinesse, +And cease henceforth things kindly forth to bring, +But hideous monsters full of uglinesse; 340 +For she it is that hath me done this wrong; +No nurse, but stepdame cruell, mercilesse. +Weepe, Shepheard! weepe, to make my undersong. + +IV. + +“My little flock, whom earst I lov’d so well, +And wont to feed with finest grasse that grew, 345 +Feede ye hencefoorth on bitter astrofell*, +And stinking smallage, and unsaverie rew; +And when your mawes are with those weeds corrupted, +Be ye the pray of wolves; ne will I rew +That with your carkasses wild beasts be glutted. 350 + [* _Astrofell_, (probably) starwort. See _Astrophel_, v. 184-196.] + + +“Ne worse to you, my sillie sheepe, I pray, +Ne sorer vengeance wish on you to fall +Than to my selfe, for whose confusde decay** +To carelesse heavens I doo daylie call; +But heavens refuse to heare a wretches cry; 355 +And cruell Death doth scorn to come at call, +Or graunt his boone that most desires to dye. + [* _Decay_, destruction.] + + +“The good and righteous he away doth take, +To plague th’unrighteous which alive remaine; +But the ungodly ones he doth forsake, 360 +By living long to multiplie their paine; +Else surely death should be no punishment, +As the Great Iudge at first did it ordaine, +But rather riddance from long languishment. + + +“Therefore, my Daphne they have tane away; 365 +For worthie of a better place was she: +But me unworthie willed here to stay, +That with her lacke I might tormented be. +Sith then they so have ordred, I will pay +Penance to her, according* their decree, 370 +And to her ghost doe service day by day. + [* _According_, according to.] + + +“For I will walke this wandring pilgrimage, +Throughout the world from one to other end, +And in affliction waste my better age: +My bread shall be the anguish of my mynd, 375 +My drink the teares which fro mine eyes do raine, +My bed the ground that hardest I may fynd; +So will I wilfully increase my paine. + + +“And she, my love that was, my saint that is, +When she beholds from her celestiall throne 380 +(In which shee ioyeth in eternall blis) +My bitter penance, will my case bemone, +And pittie me that living thus doo die; +For heavenly spirits have compassion +On mortall men, and rue their miserie. 385 + + +“So when I have with sorrow satisfyde +Th’importune Fates which vengeance on me seeks, +And th’heavens with long languor pacifyde, +She, for pure pitie of my sufferance meeke, +Will send for me; for which I daily long, 390 +And will till then my painfull penance eeke, +Weepe, Shepheard! weepe, to make my undersong. + +V. + +“Hencefoorth I hate whatever Nature made, +And in her workmanship no pleasure finde, +For they be all but vaine, and quickly fade 395 +So soone as on them blowes the northern winde; +They tarrie not, but flit and fall away, +Leaving behind them nought but griefe of minde, +And mocking such as thinke they long will stay. + + +“I hate the heaven, because it doth withhould 400 +Me from my love, and eke my love from me; +I hate the earth, because it is the mould +Of fleshly slime and fraile mortalitie; +I hate the fire, because to nought it flyes; +I hate the ayre, because sighes of it be; 405 +I hate the sea, because it teares supplyes. + + +“I hate the day, because it lendeth light +To see all things, and not my love to see; +I hate the darknesse and the dreary night, +Because they breed sad balefulnesse in mee; 410 +I hate all times, because all times doo fly +So fast away, and may not stayed bee, +But as a speedie post that passeth by. + + +“I hate to speake, my voyce is spent with crying; +I hate to heare, lowd plaints have duld mine eares; +I hate to tast, for food withholds my dying; 416 +I hate to see, mine eyes are dimd with teares; +I hate to smell, no sweet on earth is left; +I hate to feele, my flesh is numbd with feares: +So all my senses from me are bereft. 420 + + +“I hate all men, and shun all womankinde; +The one, because as I they wretched are; +The other, for because I doo not finde +My love with them, that wont to be their starre. +And life I hate, because it will not last; 425 +And death I hate, because it life doth marre; +And all I hate that is to come or past. + + +“So all the world, and all in it I hate, +Because it changeth ever to and fro, +And never standeth in one certaine state, 430 +But, still unstedfast, round about doth goe +Like a mill-wheele in midst of miserie, +Driven with streames of wretchednesse and woe, +That dying lives, and living still does dye. + + +“So doo I live, so doo I daylie die, 435 +And pine away in selfe-consuming paine! +Sith she that did my vitall powres supplie, +And feeble spirits in their force maintaine, +Is fetcht fro me, why seeke I to prolong +My wearie daies in dolour and disdalne! 440 +Weepe, Shepheard! weepe, to make my undersong. + +IV. + +“Why doo I longer live in lifes despight, +And doo not dye then in despight of death! +Why doo I longer see this loathsome light, +And doo in darknesse not abridge my breath, 445 +Sith all my sorrow should have end thereby, +And cares finde quiet! Is it so uneath* +To leave this life, or dolorous to dye? + [* _Uneath_, difficult.] + + +“To live I finde it deadly dolorous, +For life drawes care, and care continuall woe; 450 +Therefore to dye must needes be ioyeous, +And wishfull thing this sad life to forgoe. +But I must stay; I may it not amend; +My Daphne hence departing bad me so; +She bad me stay, till she for me did send. 455 + + +“Yet, whilest I in this wretched vale doo stay, +My wearie feete shall ever wandring be, +That still I may be readie on my way +When, as her messenger doth come for me; +Ne will I rest my feete for feeblenesse, 460 +Ne will I rest my limmes for frailtie, +Ne will I rest mine eyes for heavinesse. + + +“But, as the mother of the gods, that sought +For faire Euridyce, her daughter dere, +Throughout the world, with wofull heavie thought, +So will I travell whilest I tarrie heere, 466 +Ne will I lodge, ne will I ever lin*, +Ne, when as drouping Titan draweth nere +To loose his teeme, will I take up my inne**. +[* _Lin_, cease.] +[** _Inne_, lodging.] + + +“Ne sleepe, the harbenger* of wearie wights, 470 +Shall ever lodge upon mine eye-lids more, +Ne shall with rest refresh my fainting sprights, +Nor failing force to former strength restore: +But I will wake and sorrow all the night +With Philumene*, my fortune to deplore; 475 +With Philumene, the partner of my plight. + [* _Harbenger_, one who provides lodging or repose.] + [** _Philumene_, Philomel.] + + +“And ever as I see the starre to fall, +And under ground to goe to give them light +Which dwell in darknesse, I to mind will call +How my faire starre, that shind on me so bright, 480 +Fell sodainly and faded under ground; +Since whose departure, day is turnd to night, +And night without a Venus starre is found. + + +“But soon as day doth shew his deawie face, +And cals foorth men unto their toylsome trade, 485 +I will withdraw me to some darkesome place, +Or some dere* cave, or solitarie shade; +There will I sigh, and sorrow all day long, +And the huge burden of my cares unlade. 489 +Weepe, Shepheard! weepe, to make my undersong. + [* Qu. _derne_, lonely? Or, _drere?_] + +VII. + +“Henceforth mine eyes shall never more behold +Faire thing on earth, ne feed on false delight +Of ought that framed is of mortall mould, +Sith that my fairest flower is faded quight; +For all I see is vaine and transitorie, 495 +Ne will be held in any stedfast plight, +But in a moment loose their grace and glorie. + + +“And ye, fond Men! on Fortunes wheele that ride, +Or in ought under heaven repose assurance, +Be it riches, beautie, or honours pride, 500 +Be sure that they shall have no long endurance, +But ere ye be aware will flit away; +For nought of them is yours, but th’only usance +Of a small time, which none ascertains may. + + +“And ye, true Lovers! whom desastrous chaunce, 505 +Hath farre exiled from your ladies grace, +To mourne in sorrow and sad sufferauncc, +When ye doe heare me in that desert place +Lamenting loud my Daphnes elegie, +Helpe me to waile my miserable case, 510 +And when life parts vouchsafe to close mine eye. + + +“And ye, more happie Lovers! which enioy +The presence of your dearest loves delight, +“When ye doe heare my sorrowfull annoy, +Yet pittie me in your empassiond spright, 515 +And thinke that such mishap as chaunst to me +May happen unto the most happiest wight; +For all mens states alike unstedfast be. + + +“And ye, ray fellow Shepheards! which do feed +Your carelesse flocks on hils and open plaines, 520 +With better fortune than did me succeed, +Remember yet my undeserved paines; +And when ye heare that I am dead or slaine, +Lament my lot, and tell your fellow-swaines +That sad Aleyon dyde in lifes disdaine. 525 + + +“And ye, faire Damsels! shepheards deare delights, +That with your loves do their rude hearts possesse, +When as my hearse shall happen to your sightes, +Vouchsafe to deck the same with cyparesse; +And ever sprinckle brackish teares among, 530 +In pitie of my undeserv’d distresse, +The which, I, wretch, endured have thus long. + + +“And ye, poore Pilgrims! that with restlesse toyle +Wearie your selves in wandring desart wayes, +Till that you come where ye your vowes assoyle*, 535 +When passing by ye reade these wofull layes +On my grave written, rue my Daphnes wrong, +And mourne for me that languish out my dayes. +Cease, Shepheard! cease, and end thy undersong.” + [* _Assoyle_, absolve, pay.] + + +Thus when he ended had his heavie plaint, 540 +The heaviest plaint that ever I heard sound, +His cheekes wext pale, and sprights began to faint, +As if againe he would have fallen to ground; +Which when I saw, I, stepping to him light, +Amooved* him out of his stonie swound, 545 +And gan him to recomfort as I might. + [* _Amooved_, roused.] + + +But he no waie recomforted would be, +Nor suffer solace to approach him nie, +But, casting up a sdeinfull eie at me, +That in his traunce I would not let him lie, 550 +Did rend his haire, and beat his blubbred face, +As one disposed wilfullie to die, +That I sore griev’d to see his wretched case. + + +Tho when the pang was somewhat overpast, +And the outragious passion nigh appeased, 555 +I him desyrde, sith daie was overcast +And darke night fast approched, to be pleased +To turne aside unto my cabinet*, +And staie with me, till he were better eased +Of that strong stownd** which him so sore beset. 560 + [* _Cabinet_, cabin.] + [** _Stownd_, mood, paroxysm of grief.] + + +But by no meanes I could him win thereto, +Ne longer him intreate with me to staie, +But without taking leave he foorth did goe +With staggring pace and dismall looks dismay, +As if that Death he in the face had seene, 565 +Or hellish hags had met upon the way: +But what of him became I cannot weene. + + + + +AMORETTI + +AND + +EPITHALAMION. + +WRITTEN NOT LONG SINCE BY + +EDMUNDE SPENSER. + + +PRINTED FOR WILLIAM POSBONBY. + + +1595. + + +G. W. SENIOR*, TO THE AUTHOR. + + +[* These commendatory Sonnets first appeared in the first folio edition +of Spenser’s entire works (1611). G. W., as Todd conjectures, may be +George Whetstone. C.] + + +Darke is the day when Phoebus face is shrowded, +And weaker sights may wander soone astray; +But when they see his glorious raies unclowded, +With steddy steps they keepe the perfect way: +So, while this Muse in forraine land doth stay, +Invention weepes, and pennes are cast aside; +The time, like night, deprivd of chearfull day; +And few doe write, but ah! too soone may slide. +Then hie thee home, that art our perfect guide, +And with thy wit illustrate Englands fame, +Daunting therby our neighbors ancient pride, +That do for Poesie challenge chiefest name: + So we that live, and ages that succeed, + With great applause thy learned works shall reed. + + + + +Ah! Colin, whether on the lowly plaine, +Piping to shepheards thy sweet roundelayes, +Or whether singing, in some loftie vaine, +Heroicke deeds of past or present dayes, +Or whether in thy lovely mistresse praise +Thou list to exercise thy learned quill, +Thy Muse hath got such grace and power to please, +With rare invention, beautified by skill, +As who therin can ever ioy their fill! +O, therefore let that happy Muse proceed +To clime the height of Vertues sacred hill, +Where endlesse honour shal be made thy meed: + Because no malice of succeeding daies + Can rase those records of thy lasting praise. + + +G. W. I[unior]. + + +AMORETTI.[*] + +[* These Sonnets furnish us with a circumstantial and very interesting +history of Spenser’s second courtship, which, after many repulses, was +successfully terminated by the marriage celebrated in the +_Epithalamion_. As these poems were entered in the Stationers’ +Registers on the 19th of November, 1594, we may infer that they cover a +period of time extending from the end of 1592 to the summer of 1594. It +is possible, however, that these last dates may be a year too late, and +that Spenser was married in 1593. We cannot be sure of the year, but we +know, from the 266th verse of the Epithalamion, that the day was the +feast of St. Barnabas, June 11 of the Old Style. In the 74th sonnet we +are directly told that the lady’s name was Elizabeth. In the 61st, she +is said to be of the “Brood of Angels, heavenly born.” From this and +many similar expressions, interpreted by the laws of Anagram, and taken +in conjunction with various circumstances which do not require to be +stated here, it may be inferred that her surname was Nagle. C.] + + +I. + +Happy, ye leaves! when as those lilly hands +Which hold my life in their dead-doing might +Shall handle you, and hold in loves soft bands, +Lyke captives trembling at the victors sight. +And happy lines! on which, with starry light, +Those lamping eyes will deigne sometimes to look, +And reade the sorrowes of my dying spright, +And happy rymes! bath’d in the sacred brooke +Of Helicon, whence she derived is, +When ye behold that Angels blessed looke, +My soules long-lacked food, my heavens blis, + Leaves, lines, and rymes, seeke her to please alone, + Whom if ye please, I care for other none! + +II. + +Unquiet thought! whom at the first I bred +Of th’inward bale of my love-pined hart, +And sithens have with sighes and sorrowes fed, +Till greater then my wombe thou woxen art, +Breake forth at length out of the inner part, +In which thou lurkest lyke to vipers brood, +And seeke some succour both to ease my smart, +And also to sustayne thy selfe with food. +But if in presence of that fayrest Proud +Thou chance to come, fall lowly at her feet; +And with meek humblesse and afflicted mood +Pardon for thee, and grace for me, intreat: + Which if she graunt, then live, and my love cherish: + If not, die soone, and I with thee will perish. + +III. + +The soverayne beauty which I doo admyre, +Witnesse the world how worthy to be prayzed! +The light wherof hath kindled heavenly fyre +In my fraile spirit, by her from basenesse raysed; +That being now with her huge brightnesse dazed, +Base thing I can no more endure to view: +But, looking still on her, I stand amazed +At wondrous sight of so celestiall hew. +So when my toung would speak her praises dew, +It stopped is with thoughts astonishment; +And when my pen would write her titles true, +It ravisht is with fancies wonderment: + Yet in my hart I then both speak and write + The wonder that my wit cannot endite. + +IV. + +New yeare, forth looking out of Ianus gate, +Doth seeme to promise hope of new delight, +And, bidding th’old adieu, his passed date +Bids all old thoughts to die in dumpish* spright; +And calling forth out of sad Winters night +Fresh Love, that long hath slept in cheerlesse bower, +Wils him awake, and soone about him dight +His wanton wings and darts of deadly power. +For lusty Spring now in his timely howre +Is ready to come forth, him to receive; +And warns the Earth with divers colord flowre +To decke hir selfe, and her faire mantle weave. + Then you, faire flowre! in whom fresh youth doth raine, + Prepare your selfe new love to entertaine. +[l _Dumpish_, mournful.] + +V. + +Rudely thou wrongest my deare harts desire, +In finding fault with her too portly pride: +The thing which I doo most in her admire, +Is of the world unworthy most envide. +For in those lofty lookes is close implide +Scorn of base things, and sdeigne of foul dishonor; +Thretning rash eies which gaze on her so wide, +That loosely they ne dare to looke upon her. +Such pride is praise, such portlinesse is honor, +That boldned innocence beares in hir eies, +And her faire countenaunce, like a goodly banner, +Spreds in defiaunce of all enemies. + Was never in this world ought worthy tride*, + Without some spark of such self-pleasing pride. +[* _Tride_, found.] + +VI. + +Be nought dismayd that her unmoved mind +Doth still persist in her rebellious pride: +Such love, not lyke to lusts of baser kynd, +The harder wonne, the firmer will abide. +The durefull oake whose sap is not yet dride +Is long ere it conceive the kindling fyre; +But when it once doth burne, it doth divide +Great heat, and makes his flames to heaven aspire. +So hard it is to kindle new desire +In gentle brest, that shall endure for ever: +Deepe is the wound that dints the parts entire* +With chaste affects, that naught but death can sever. + Then thinke not long in taking litle paine + To knit the knot that ever shall remaine. +[* _Entire_, inward.] + +VII. + +Fayre eyes! the myrrour of my mazed hart, +What wondrous vertue is contayn’d in you, +The which both lyfe and death forth from you dart +Into the obiect of your mighty view? +For when ye mildly looke with lovely hew, +Then is my soule with life and love inspired: +But when ye lowre, or looke on me askew, +Then do I die, as one with lightning fyred. +But since that lyfe is more then death desyred, +Looke ever lovely, as becomes you best; +That your bright beams, of my weak eies admyred, +May kindle living fire within my brest. + Such life should be the honor of your light, + Such death the sad ensample of your might. + +VIII + +More then most faire, full of the living fire +Kindled above unto the Maker nere, +No eies, but ioyes, in which al powers conspire, +That to the world naught else be counted deare! +Thrugh your bright beams doth not the blinded guest +Shoot out his darts to base affections wound; +But angels come, to lead fraile mindes to rest +In chast desires, on heavenly beauty bound. +You frame my thoughts, and fashion me within; +You stop my toung, and teach my hart to speake; +You calme the storme that passion did begin, +Strong thrugh your cause, but by your vertue weak. + Dark is the world where your light shined never; + Well is he borne that may behold you ever. + +IX. + +Long-while I sought to what I might compare +Those powrefull eies which lighten my dark spright; +Yet find I nought on earth, to which I dare +Resemble th’ymage of their goodly light. +Not to the sun, for they doo shine by night; +Nor to the moone, for they are changed never; +Nor to the starres, for they have purer sight; +Nor to the fire, for they consume not ever; +Nor to the lightning, for they still persever; +Nor to the diamond, for they are more tender; +Nor unto cristall, for nought may them sever; +Nor unto glasse, such basenesse mought offend her. + Then to the Maker selfe they likest be, + Whose light doth lighten all that here we see. + +X. + +Unrighteous Lord of love, what law is this, +That me thou makest thus tormented be, +The whiles she lordeth in licentious blisse +Of her freewill, scorning both thee and me? +See! how the Tyrannesse doth ioy to see +The hugh massácres which her eyes do make, +And humbled harts brings captive unto thee, +That thou of them mayst mightie vengeance take. +But her proud hart doe thou a little shake, +And that high look, with which she doth comptroll +All this worlds pride, bow to a baser make*, +And al her faults in thy black booke enroll: + That I may laugh at her in equall sort + As she doth laugh at me, and makes my pain her sport. +[* _Make_, mate.] + +XI. + +Dayly when I do seeke and sew for peace, +And hostages doe offer for my truth, +She, cruell warriour, doth her selfe addresse +To battell, and the weary war renew’th; +Ne wilbe moov’d, with reason or with rewth*, +To graunt small respit to my restlesse toile; +But greedily her fell intent poursewth, +Of my poore life to make unpittied spoile. +Yet my poore life, all sorrowes to assoyle, +I would her yield, her wrath to pacify; +But then she seeks, with torment and turmoyle, +To force me live, and will not let me dy. + All paine hath end, and every war hath peace; + But mine, no price nor prayer may surcease. +[* _Rewth_, ruth, pity.] + +XII. + +One day I sought with her hart-thrilling eies +To make a truce, and termes to entertaine; +All fearlesse then of so false enimies, +Which sought me to entrap in treasons traine. +So, as I then disarmed did remaine, +A wicked ambush, which lay hidden long +In the close covert of her guilful eyen, +Thence breaking forth, did thick about me throng. +Too feeble I t’abide the brunt so strong, +Was forst to yield my selfe into their hands; +Who, me captiving streight with rigorous wrong, +Have ever since kept me in cruell bands. + So, Ladie, now to you I doo complaine + Against your eies, that iustice I may gaine. + +XIII. + +In that proud port which her so goodly graceth, +Whiles her faire face she reares up to the skie, +And to the ground her eie-lids low embaseth, +Most goodly temperature ye may descry; +Myld humblesse mixt with awfull maiestie. +For, looking on the earth whence she was borne, +Her minde remembreth her mortalitie, +Whatso is fayrest shall to earth returne. +But that same lofty countenance seemes to scorne +Base thing, and thinke how she to heaven may clime; +Treading downe earth as lothsome and forlorne, +That hinders heavenly thoughts with drossy slime. + Yet lowly still vouchsafe to looke on me; + Such lowlinesse shall make you lofty be. + +XIV. + +Retourne agayne, my forces late dismayd, +Unto the siege by you abandon’d quite. +Great shame it is to leave, like one afrayd, +So fayre a peece* for one repulse so light. +’Gaynst such strong castles needeth greater might +Then those small forts which ye were wont belay**: +Such haughty mynds, enur’d to hardy fight, +Disdayne to yield unto the first assay. +Bring therefore all the forces that ye may, +And lay incessant battery to her heart; +Playnts, prayers, vowes, ruth, sorrow, and dismay; +Those engins can the proudest love convert: + And, if those fayle, fall down and dy before her; + So dying live, and living do adore her. +[l _Peece_, fortress.] +[** _Belay_, beleaguer.] + +XV. + +Ye tradefull Merchants, that, with weary toyle, +Do seeke most pretious things to make your gain, +And both the Indias of their treasure spoile, +What needeth you to seeke so farre in vaine? +For loe, my Love doth in her selfe containe +All this worlds riches that may farre be found: +If saphyres, loe, her eies be saphyres plaine; +If rubies, loe, hir lips be rubies sound; +If pearles, hir teeth be pearles, both pure and round; +If yvorie, her forhead yvory weene; +If gold, her locks are finest gold on ground; +If silver, her faire hands are silver sheene: + But that which fairest is but few behold:— + Her mind adornd with vertues manifold. + +XVI. + +One day as I unwarily did gaze +On those fayre eyes, my loves immortall light, +The whiles my stonisht hart stood in amaze, +Through sweet illusion of her lookes delight, +I mote perceive how, in her glauncing sight, +Legions of Loves with little wings did fly, +Darting their deadly arrows, fyry bright, +At every rash beholder passing by. +One of those archers closely I did spy, +Ayming his arrow at my very hart: +When suddenly, with twincle of her eye, +The damzell broke his misintended dart. + Had she not so doon, sure I had bene slayne; + Yet as it was, I hardly scap’t with paine. + +XVII. + +The glorious pourtraict of that angels face, +Made to amaze weake mens confused skil, +And this worlds worthlesse glory to embase, +What pen, what pencill, can expresse her fill? +For though he colours could devize at will, +And eke his learned hand at pleasure guide, +Least, trembling, it his workmanship should spill*, +Yet many wondrous things there are beside: +The sweet eye-glaunces, that like arrowes glide, +The charming smiles, that rob sence from the hart, +The lovely pleasance, and the lofty pride, +Cannot expressed be by any art. + A greater craftesmans hand thereto doth neede, + That can expresse the life of things indeed. +[l _Spill_, spoil.] + +XVIII. + +The rolling wheele that runneth often round, +The hardest steele, in tract of time doth teare: +And drizling drops, that often doe redound*, +The firmest flint doth in continuance weare: +Yet cannot I, with many a drooping teare +And long intreaty, soften her hard hart, +That she will once vouchsafe my plaint to heare, +Or looke with pitty on my payneful smart. +But when I pleade, she bids me play my part; +And when I weep, she sayes, teares are but water; +And when I sigh, she sayes, I know the art; +And when I waile, she turnes hir selfe to laughter. + So do I weepe, and wayle, and pleade in vaine, + Whiles she as steele and flint doth still remayne. +[* _Redound_, overflow.] + +XIX. + +The merry cuckow, messenger of Spring, +His trompet shrill hath thrise already sounded. +That warnes al lovers wayte upon their king, +Who now is coming forth with girland crouned. +With noyse whereof the quyre of byrds resounded +Their anthemes sweet, devized of loves prayse, +That all the woods theyr ecchoes back rebounded, +As if they knew the meaning of their layes. +But mongst them all which did Loves honor rayse, +No word was heard of her that most it ought; +But she his precept proudly disobayes, +And doth his ydle message set at nought. + Therefore, O Love, unlesse she turne to thee + Ere cuckow end, let her a rebell be! + +XX. + +In vaine I seeke and sew to her for grace, +And doe myne humbled hart before her poure, +The whiles her foot she in my necke doth place, +And tread my life downe in the lowly floure*. +And yet the lyon, that is lord of power, +And reigneth over every beast in field, +In his most pride disdeigneth to devoure +The silly lambe that to his might doth yield. +But she, more cruell and more salvage wylde +Than either lyon or the lyonesse, +Shames not to be with guiltlesse bloud defylde, +But taketh glory in her cruelnesse. + Fayrer then fayrest! let none ever say + That ye were blooded in a yeelded pray. +[* _Floure_, floor, ground.] + +XXI. + +Was it the worke of Nature or of Art, +Which tempred so the feature of her face, +That pride and meeknesse, mist by equall part, +Doe both appeare t’adorne her beauties grace? +For with mild pleasance, which doth pride displace, +She to her love doth lookers eyes allure; +And with stern countenance back again doth chace +Their looser lookes that stir up lustes impure. +With such strange termes* her eyes she doth inure, +That with one looke she doth my life dismay, +And with another doth it streight recure: +Her smile me drawes; her frowne me drives away. + Thus doth she traine and teach me with her lookes; + Such art of eyes I never read in bookes! +[* _Termes_, extremes (?).] + +XXII. + +This holy season*, fit to fast and pray, +Men to devotion ought to be inclynd: +Therefore, I lykewise, on so holy day, +For my sweet saynt some service fit will find. +Her temple fayre is built within my mind, +In which her glorious ymage placed is; +On which my thoughts doo day and night attend, +Lyke sacred priests that never thinke amisse. +There I to her, as th’author of my blisse, +Will builde an altar to appease her yre; +And on the same my hart will sacrifise, +Burning in flames of pure and chaste desyre: + The which vouchsafe, O Goddesse, to accept, + Amongst thy deerest relicks to be kept. +[* I.e. Easter.] + +XXIII. + +Penelope, for her Ulisses sake, +Deviz’d a web her wooers to deceave; +In which the worke that she all day did make, +The same at night she did againe unreave. +Such subtile craft my damzell doth conceave, +Th’importune suit of my desire to shonne: +For all that I in many dayes do weave, +In one short houre I find by her undonne. +So when I thinke to end that I begonne, +I must begin and never bring to end: +For with one looke she spils that long I sponne, +And with one word my whole years work doth rend. + Such labour like the spyders web I fynd, + Whose fruitlesse worke is broken with least wynd. + +XXIV. + +When I behold that beauties wonderment, +And rare perfection of each goodly part, +Of Natures skill the onely complement, +I honor and admire the Makers art. +But when I feele the bitter balefull smart +Which her fayre eyes unwares doe worke in mee, +That death out of theyr shiny beames doe dart, +I thinke that I a new Pandora see, +Whom all the gods in councell did agree +Into this sinfull world from heaven to send, +That she to wicked men a scourge should bee, +For all their faults with which they did offend. + But since ye are my scourge, I will intreat + That for my faults ye will me gently beat. + +XXV. + +How long shall this lyke-dying lyfe endure, +And know no end of her owne mysery, +But wast and weare away in termes unsure, +’Twixt feare and hope depending doubtfully! +Yet better were attonce to let me die, +And shew the last ensample of your pride, +Then to torment me thus with cruelty, +To prove your powre, which I too wel have tride. +But yet if in your hardned brest ye bide +A close intent at last to shew me grace, +Then all the woes and wrecks which I abide, +As meanes of blisse I gladly wil embrace; + And wish that more and greater they might be, + That greater meede at last may turne to mee. + +XXVI. + +Sweet is the rose, but growes upon a brere; +Sweet is the iunipeer; but sharpe his bough; +Sweet is the eglantine, but pricketh nere; +Sweet is the firbloome, but his braunches rough*; +Sweet is the cypresse, but his rynd is rough; +Sweet is the nut, but bitter is his pill**; +Sweet is the broome-flowre, but yet sowre enough; +And sweet is moly, but his root is ill. +So every sweet with soure is tempred still, +That maketh it be coveted the more: +For easie things, that may be got at will, +Most sorts of men doe set but little store. + Why then should I accompt of little paine, + That endlesse pleasure shall unto me gaine! +[* I.e. raw, crude.] +[** _Pill_, peel.] + +XXVII. + +Faire Proud! now tell me, why should faire be proud, +Sith all worlds glorie is but drosse uncleane, +And in the shade of death it selfe shall shroud, +However now thereof ye little weene! +That goodly idoll, now so gay beseene*, +Shall doffe her fleshes borrowd fayre attyre, +And be forgot as it had never beene, +That many now much worship and admire! +Ne any then shall after it inquire, +Ne any mention shall thereof remaine, +But what this verse, that never shall expyre, +Shall to you purchas with her thankles pain! + Faire! be no lenger proud of that shall perish, + But that which shall you make immortall cherish. +[* _Beseene_, appearing.] + +XXVIII. + +The laurel-leafe which you this day doe weare +Gives me great hope of your relenting mynd: +For since it is the badge which I doe beare*, +Ye, bearing it, doe seeme to me inclind. +The powre thereof, which ofte in me I find, +Let it likewise your gentle brest inspire +With sweet infusion, and put you in mind +Of that proud mayd whom now those leaves attyre: +Proud Daphne, scorning Phœbus lovely** fyre, +On the Thessalian shore from him did flie; +For which the gods, in theyr revengefull yre, +Did her transforme into a laurell-tree. + Then fly no more, fayre Love, from Phebus chace, + But in your brest his leafe and love embrace. +[* I. e. as poet-laureate.] +[** _Lovely_, loving.] + +XXIX. + +See! how the stubborne damzell doth deprave +My simple meaning with disdaynfull scorne, +And by the bay which I unto her gave +Accoumpts my self her captive quite forlorne. +The bay, quoth she, is of the victours born, +Yielded them by the vanquisht as theyr meeds, +And they therewith doe poetes heads adorne, +To sing the glory of their famous deeds. +But sith she will the conquest challeng needs, +Let her accept me as her faithfull thrall; +That her great triumph, which my skill exceeds, +I may in trump of fame blaze over all. + Then would I decke her head with glorious bayes, + And fill the world with her victorious prayse. + +XXX. + +My Love is lyke to yse, and I to fyre: +How comes it then that this her cold so great +Is not dissolv’d through my so hot desyre, +But harder growes the more I her intreat? +Or how comes it that my exceeding heat +Is not delayd* by her hart-frosen cold, +But that I burne much more in boyling sweat, +And feele my flames augmented manifold? +What more miraculous thing may be told, +That fire, which all things melts, should harden yse, +And yse, which is congeald with sencelesse cold, +Should kindle fyre by wonderful devyse? + Such is the powre of love in gentle mind, + That it can alter all the course of kynd. +[* _Delayd_, tempered.] + +XXXI. + +Ah! why hath Nature to so hard a hart +Given so goodly giftes of beauties grace, +Whose pryde depraves each other better part, +And all those pretious ornaments deface? +Sith to all other beastes of bloody race +A dreadfull countenance she given hath, +That with theyr terrour all the rest may chace, +And warne to shun the daunger of theyr wrath. +But my proud one doth worke the greater scath*, +Through sweet allurement of her lovely hew, +That she the better may in bloody bath +Of such poore thralls her cruell hands embrew. + But did she know how ill these two accord, + Such cruelty she would have soone abhord. +[* _Scath_, injury.] + +XXXII. + +The paynefull smith with force of fervent heat +The hardest yron soone doth mollify, +That with his heavy sledge he can it beat, +And fashion to what he it list apply. +Yet cannot all these flames in which I fry +Her hart, more hard then yron, soft a whit, +Ne all the playnts and prayërs with which I +Doe beat on th’andvile of her stubberne wit: +But still, the more she fervent sees my fit, +The more she frieseth in her wilfull pryde, +And harder growes, the harder she is smit +With all the playnts which to her be applyde. + What then remaines but I to ashes burne, + And she to stones at length all frosen turne! + +XXXIII. + +Great wrong I doe, I can it not deny, +To that most sacred empresse, my dear dred, +Not finishing her Queene of Faëry, +That mote enlarge her living prayses, dead. +But Lodwick*, this of grace to me aread: +Do ye not thinck th’accomplishment of it +Sufficient worke for one mans simple head, +All were it, as the rest, but rudely writ? +How then should I, without another wit, +Thinck ever to endure so tedious toyle, +Sith that this one is tost with troublous fit +Of a proud Love, that doth my spirite spoyle? + Cease, then, till she vouchsafe to grawnt me rest, + Or lend you me another living brest. +[* I.e. Lodowick Bryskett.] + +XXXIV. + +Lyke as a ship, that through the ocean wyde +By conduct of some star doth make her way, +Whenas a storm hath dimd her trusty guyde, +Out of her course doth wander far astray, +So I, whose star, that wont with her bright ray +Me to direct, with cloudes is over-cast, +Doe wander now in darknesse and dismay, +Through hidden perils round about me plast. +Yet hope I well that, when this storme is past, +My Helice*, the lodestar of my lyfe, +Will shine again, and looke on me at last, +With lovely light to cleare my cloudy grief. + Till then I wander carefull, comfortlesse, + In secret sorrow and sad pensivenesse. +[* I. e. Cynosure.] + +XXXV. + +My hungry eyes, through greedy covetize +Still to behold the obiect of their paine, +With no contentment can themselves suffize; +But having, pine, and having not, complaine. +For lacking it, they cannot lyfe sustayne; +And having it, they gaze on it the more, +In their amazement lyke Narcissus vaine, +Whose eyes him starv’d: so plenty makes me poore. +Yet are mine eyes so filled with the store +Of that faire sight, that nothing else they brooke, +But lothe the things which they did like before, +And can no more endure on them to looke. + All this worlds glory seemeth vayne to me, + And all their showes but shadowes, saving she. + +XXXVI. + +Tell me, when shall these wearie woes have end; +Or shall their ruthlesse torment never cease, +But al my days in pining languor spend, +Without hope of asswagement or release? +Is there no meanes for me to purchace peace, +Or make agreement with her thrilling eyes; +But that their cruelty doth still increace, +And dayly more augment my miseryes? +But when ye have shew’d all extremityes, +Then think how little glory ye have gayned +By slaying him, whose lyfe, though ye despyse, +Mote have your life in honor long maintayned. + But by his death, which some perhaps will mone, + Ye shall condemned be of many a one. + +XXXVII. + +What guyle is this, that those her golden tresses +She doth attyre under a net of gold, +And with sly skill so cunningly them dresses, +That which is gold or haire may scarse be told? +Is it that mens frayle eyes, which gaze too bold, +She may entangle in that golden snare; +And, being caught, may craftily enfold +Their weaker harts, which are not wel aware? +Take heed therefore, myne eyes, how ye doe stare +Henceforth too rashly on that guilefull net, +In which if ever ye entrapped are, +Out of her bands ye by no meanes shall get. + Fondnesse it were for any, being free, + To covet fetters, though they golden bee! + +XXXVIII. + +Arion, when, through tempests cruel wracke, +He forth was thrown into the greedy seas, +Through the sweet musick which his harp did make +Allur’d a dolphin him from death to ease. +But my rude musick, which was wont to please +Some dainty eares, cannot, with any skill, +The dreadfull tempest of her wrath appease, +Nor move the dolphin from her stubborn will. +But in her pride she dooth persever still, +All carelesse how my life for her decayes: +Yet with one word she can it save or spill. +To spill were pitty, but to save were prayse! + Chuse rather to be praysd for doing good, + Then to be blam’d for spilling guiltlesse blood. + +XXXIX. + +Sweet smile! the daughter of the Queene of Love, +Expressing all thy mothers powrefull art, +With which she wonts to temper angry Iove, +When all the gods he threats with thundring dart, +Sweet is thy vertue, as thy selfe sweet art. +For when on me thou shinedst late in sadnesse, +A melting pleasance ran through every part, +And me revived with hart-robbing gladnesse; +Whylest rapt with ioy resembling heavenly madness, +My soule was ravisht quite as in a traunce, +And, feeling thence no more her sorrowes sadnesse, +Fed on the fulnesse of that chearfull glaunce. + More sweet than nectar, or ambrosiall meat, + Seem’d every bit which thenceforth I did eat. + +XL. + +Mark when she smiles with amiable cheare, +And tell me whereto can ye lyken it; +When on each eyelid sweetly doe appeare +An hundred Graces as in shade to sit. +Lykest it seemeth, in my simple wit, +Unto the fayre sunshine in somers day, +That, when a dreadfull storme away is flit, +Thrugh the broad world doth spred his goodly ray +At sight whereof, each bird that sits on spray, +And every beast that to his den was fled, +Comes forth afresh out of their late dismay, +And to the light lift up their drouping hed. + So my storme-beaten hart likewise is cheared + With that sunshine, when cloudy looks are cleared. +[Footnote: XL. 4.—_An hundred Graces._ E.K., in his commentary on the +Shepheards Calender, quotes a line closely resembling this from +Spenser’s Pageants: + + +“An hundred Graces on her eyelids sat.” + + +The same fancy occurs in the Faerie Queene, and in the Hymn to Beauty. +It is copied from a poem ascribed to Musaeus. C.] + +XLI. + +Is it her nature, or is it her will, +To be so cruell to an humbled foe? +If nature, then she may it mend with skill; +If will, then she at will may will forgoe. +But if her nature and her will be so, +That she will plague the man that loves her most, +And take delight t’encrease a wretches woe, +Then all her natures goodly guifts are lost; +And that same glorious beauties ydle boast +Is but a bayt such wretches to beguile, +As, being long in her loves tempest tost, +She meanes at last to make her pitious spoyle. + O fayrest fayre! let never it be named, + That so fayre beauty was so fowly shamed. + +XLII. + +The love which me so cruelly tormenteth +So pleasing is in my extreamest paine, +That, all the more my sorrow it augmenteth, +The more I love and doe embrace my bane. +Ne do I wish (for wishing were but vaine) +To be acquit fro my continual smart, +But ioy her thrall for ever to remayne, +And yield for pledge my poor and captyved hart, +The which, that it from her may never start, +Let her, yf please her, bynd with adamant chayne, +And from all wandring loves, which mote pervart +His safe assurance, strongly it restrayne. + Onely let her abstaine from cruelty, + And doe me not before my time to dy. + +XLIII. + +Shall I then silent be, or shall I speake? +And if I speake, her wrath renew I shall; +And if I silent be, my hart will breake, +Or choked be with overflowing gall. +What tyranny is this, both my hart to thrall, +And eke my toung with proud restraint to tie, +That neither I may speake nor thinke at all, +But like a stupid stock in silence die! +Yet I my hart with silence secretly +Will teach to speak and my just cause to plead, +And eke mine eies, with meek humility, +Love-learned letters to her eyes to read; +Which her deep wit, that true harts thought can spel, + Wil soon conceive, and learne to construe well. + +XLIV. + +When those renoumed noble peres of Greece +Through stubborn pride among themselves did iar, +Forgetfull of the famous golden fleece, +Then Orpheus with his harp theyr strife did bar. +But this continuall, cruell, civill warre +The which my selfe against my selfe doe make, +Whilest my weak powres of passions warreid arre, +No skill can stint, nor reason can aslake. +But when in hand my tunelesse harp I take, +Then doe I more augment my foes despight, +And griefe renew, and passions doe awake +To battaile, fresh against my selfe to fight. + Mongst whome the more I seeke to settle peace, + The more I fynd their malice to increace. + +XLV. + +Leave, Lady! in your glasse of cristall clene +Your goodly selfe for evermore to vew, +And in my selfe, (my inward selfe I meane,) +Most lively lyke behold your semblant trew. +Within my hart, though hardly it can shew +Thing so divine to vew of earthly eye, +The fayre idea of your celestiall hew +And every part remaines immortally: +And were it not that through your cruelty +With sorrow dimmed and deform’d it were, +The goodly ymage of your visnomy*, +Clearer than cristall, would therein appere. + But if your selfe in me ye playne will see, + Remove the cause by which your fayre beames darkned be. +[* _Visnomy_, countenance.] + +XLVI. + +When my abodes prefixed time is spent, +My cruell fayre streight bids me wend my way: +But then from heaven most hideous stormes are sent, +As willing me against her will to stay. +Whom then shall I—or heaven, or her—obay? +The heavens know best what is the best for me: +But as she will, whose will my life doth sway, +My lower heaven, so it perforce must be. +But ye high hevens, that all this sorowe see, +Sith all your tempests cannot hold me backe, +Aswage your storms, or else both you and she +Will both together me too sorely wrack. + Enough it is for one man to sustaine + The stormes which she alone on me doth raine. + +XLVII. + +Trust not the treason of those smyling lookes, +Untill ye have their guylefull traynes well tryde; +For they are lyke but unto golden hookes, +That from the foolish fish theyr bayts do hyde: +So she with flattring smyles weake harts doth guyde +Unto her love, and tempte to theyr decay; +Whome, being caught, she kills with cruell pryde, +And feeds at pleasure on the wretched pray. +Yet even whylst her bloody hands them slay, +Her eyes looke lovely, and upon them smyle, +That they take pleasure in their cruell play, +And, dying, doe themselves of payne beguyle. + O mighty charm! which makes men love theyr bane, + And thinck they dy with pleasure, live with payne. + +XLVIII. + +Innocent paper! whom too cruell hand +Did make the matter to avenge her yre, +And ere she could thy cause well understand, +Did sacrifize unto the greedy fyre, +Well worthy thou to have found better hyre +Then so bad end, for hereticks ordayned; +Yet heresy nor treason didst conspire, +But plead thy maisters cause, unjustly payned: +Whom she, all carelesse of his grief, constrayned +To utter forth the anguish of his hart, +And would not heare, when he to her complayned +The piteous passion of his dying smart. + Yet live for ever, though against her will, + And speake her good, though she requite it ill. + +XLIX. + +Fayre Cruell! why are ye so fierce and cruell? +Is it because your eyes have powre to kill? +Then know that mercy is the Mighties iewell, +And greater glory think to save then spill. +But if it be your pleasure and proud will +To shew the powre of your imperious eyes, +Then not on him that never thought you ill, +But bend your force against your enemyes. +Let them feel the utmost of your crueltyes, +And kill with looks, as cockatrices do: +But him that at your footstoole humbled lies, +With mercifull regard give mercy to. + Such mercy shall you make admyr’d to be; + So shall you live, by giving life to me. + +L. + +Long languishing in double malady +Of my harts wound and of my bodies griefe, +There came to me a leach, that would apply +Fit medcines for my bodies best reliefe. +Vayne man, quoth I, that hast but little priefe* +In deep discovery of the mynds disease; +Is not the hart of all the body chiefe, +And rules the members as it selfe doth please? +Then with some cordialls seeke for to appease +The inward languor of my wounded hart, +And then my body shall have shortly ease. +But such sweet cordialls passe physicians art: + Then, my lyfes leach! doe you your skill reveale, + And with one salve both hart and body heale. +[* _Priefe_, proof, experience.] + +LI. + +Doe I not see that fayrest ymages +Of hardest marble are of purpose made, +For that they should endure through many ages, +Ne let theyr famous moniments to fade? +Why then doe I, untrainde in lovers trade, +Her hardnes blame, which I should more commend? +Sith never ought was excellent assayde +Which was not hard t’atchive and bring to end; +Ne ought so hard, but he that would attend +Mote soften it and to his will allure. +So do I hope her stubborne hart to bend, +And that it then more stedfast will endure: + Only my paines wil be the more to get her; + But, having her, my ioy wil be the greater. + +LII. + +So oft as homeward I from her depart, +I go lyke one that, having lost the field, +Is prisoner led away with heavy hart, +Despoyld of warlike armes and knowen shield. +So doe I now my self a prisoner yield +To sorrow and to solitary paine, +From presence of my dearest deare exylde, +Long-while alone in languor to remaine. +There let no thought of ioy, or pleasure vaine, +Dare to approch, that may my solace breed; +But sudden* dumps**, and drery sad disdayne +Of all worlds gladnesse, more my torment feed. + So I her absens will my penaunce make, + That of her presens I my meed may take. +[* _Sudden_, Qu. sullen?] +[** _Dumps_, lamentations.] + +LIII. + +The panther, knowing that his spotted hyde +Doth please all beasts, but that his looks them fray*, +Within a bush his dreadful head doth hide, +To let them gaze, whylst he on them may pray. +Right so my cruell fayre with me doth play; +For with the goodly semblance of her hew +She doth allure me to mine owne decay, +And then no mercy will unto me shew. +Great shame it is, thing so divine in view, +Made for to be the worlds most ornament, +To make the bayte her gazers to embrew: +Good shames to be to ill an instrument! + But mercy doth with beautie best agree, + As in theyr Maker ye them best may see. +[* _Fray_, frighten.] + +LIV. + +Of this worlds theatre in which we stay, +My Love, like the spectator, ydly sits, +Beholding me, that all the pageants play, +Disguysing diversly my troubled wits. +Sometimes I ioy when glad occasion fits, +And mask in myrth lyke to a comedy: +Soone after, when my ioy to sorrow flits, +I waile, and make my woes a tragedy. +Yet she, beholding me with constant eye, +Delights not in my merth, nor rues my smart: +But when I laugh, she mocks; and when I cry, +She laughs, and hardens evermore her hart. + What then can move her? If nor merth, nor mone, + She is no woman, but a sencelesse stone. + +LV. + +So oft as I her beauty doe behold, +And therewith doe her cruelty compare, +I marvaile of what substance was the mould +The which her made attonce so cruell faire. +Not earth; for her high thoughts more heavenly are: +Not water; for her love doth burne like fyre: +Not ayre; for she is not so light or rare; +Not fyre; for she doth friese with faint desire. +Then needs another element inquire, +Whereof she mote be made; that is, the skye. +For to the heaven her haughty looks aspire, +And eke her love is pure immortall hye. + Then sith to heaven ye lykened are the best, + Be lyke in mercy as in all the rest. + +LVI. + +Fayre ye be sure, but cruell and unkind, +As is a tygre, that with greedinesse +Hunts after bloud; when he by chance doth find +A feeble beast, doth felly him oppresse. +Fayre be ye sure, but proud and pitilesse, +As is a storme, that all things doth prostrate; +Finding a tree alone all comfortlesse, +Beats on it strongly, it to ruinate. +Fayre be ye sure, but hard and obstinate, +As is a rocke amidst the raging floods; +Gaynst which a ship, of succour desolate, +Doth suffer wreck both of her selfe and goods. + That ship, that tree, and that same beast, am I, + Whom ye doe wreck, doe ruine, and destroy. + +LVII. + +Sweet warriour! when shall I have peace with you? +High time it is this warre now ended were, +Which I no lenger can endure to sue, +Ne your incessant battry more to beare. +So weake my powres, so sore my wounds, appear, +That wonder is how I should live a iot, +Seeing my hart through-launced every where +With thousand arrowes which your eies have shot. +Yet shoot ye sharpely still, and spare me not, +But glory thinke to make these cruel stoures*. +Ye cruell one! what glory can be got, +In slaying him that would live gladly yours? + Make peace therefore, and graunt me timely grace, + That al my wounds will heale in little space. +[* _Stoures_, agitations.] + +LVIII. + +_By her that is most assured to her selfe._ + + +Weake is th’assurance that weake flesh reposeth +In her own powre, and scorneth others ayde; +That soonest fals, when as she most supposeth +Her selfe assur’d, and is of nought affrayd, +All flesh is frayle, and all her strength unstayd, +Like a vaine bubble blowen up with ayre: +Devouring tyme and changeful chance have prayd* +Her glorious pride, that none may it repayre. +Ne none so rich or wise, so strong or fayre, +But fayleth, trusting on his owne assurance: +And he that standeth on the hyghest stayre +Fals lowest; for on earth nought hath endurance. + Why then doe ye, proud fayre, misdeeme so farre, + That to your selfe ye most assured arre! + + +[Footnote: LVIII.—_By her_, &c. _By_ is perhaps a misprint for _to_; or +this title may belong to Sonnet LIX. H.] [* _Prayd_, preyed upon.] + +LIX. + +Thrise happie she that is so well assured +Unto her selfe, and setled so in hart, +That neither will for better be allured, +Ne feard with worse to any chaunce to start: +But, like a steddy ship, doth strongly part +The raging waves, and keepes her course aright, +Ne ought for tempest doth from it depart, +Ne ought for fayrer weathers false delight. +Such selfe-assurance need not feare the spight +Of grudging foes, ne favour seek of friends: +But in the stay of her owne stedfast might, +Neither to one her selfe nor other bends. + Most happy she that most assur’d doth rest; + But he most happy who such one loves best. + +LX. + +They that in course of heavenly spheares are skild +To every planet point his sundry yeare, +In which her circles voyage is fulfild: +As Mars in threescore yeares doth run his spheare. +So, since the winged god his planet cleare +Began in me to move, one yeare is spent; +The which doth longer unto me appeare, +Then al those fourty which my life out-went. +Then, by that count which lovers books invent, +The spheare of Cupid fourty yeares containes, +Which I have wasted in long languishment, +That seem’d the longer for my greater paines. + But let my Loves fayre planet short her wayes + This yeare ensuing, or else short my dayes. + + +[Footnote: LX. 4.—_As Mars in three score yeares_. I do not understand +Spenser’s astronomy. C.] + +LXI. + +The glorious image of the Makers beautie, +My soverayne saynt, the idoll of my thought, +Dare not henceforth, above the bounds of dewtie, +T’accuse of pride, or rashly blame for ought. +For being, as she is, divinely wrought, +And of the brood of angels heavenly born, +And with the crew of blessed saynts upbrought, +Each of which did her with theyr guifts adorne, +The bud of ioy, the blossome of the morne, +The beame of light, whom mortal eyes admyre, +What reason is it then but she should scorne +Base things, that to her love too bold aspire! + Such heavenly formes ought rather worshipt be, + Then dare be lov’d by men of meane degree. + +LXII. + +The weary yeare his race now having run, +The new begins his compast course anew: +With shew of morning mylde he hath begun, +Betokening peace and plenty to ensew. +So let us, which this chaunge of weather vew, +Chaunge eke our mynds, and former lives amend; +The old yeares sinnes forepast let us eschew, +And fly the faults with which we did offend. +Then shall the new yeares ioy forth freshly send +Into the glooming world his gladsome ray, +And all these stormes, which now his beauty blend*, +Shall turne to calmes, and tymely cleare away. + So, likewise, Love! cheare you your heavy spright, + And chaunge old yeares annoy to new delight. + + +[* _Blend_, blemish.] + +LXIII. + +After long stormes and tempests sad assay, +Which hardly I endured heretofore, +In dread of death, and daungerous dismay, +With which my silly bark was tossed sore, +I doe at length descry the happy shore, +In which I hope ere long for to arryve: +Fayre soyle it seemes from far, and fraught with store +Of all that deare and daynty is alyve. +Most happy he that can at last atchyve +The ioyous safety of so sweet a rest; +Whose least delight sufficeth to deprive +Remembrance of all paines which him opprest. + All paines are nothing in respect of this; + All sorrowes short that gaine eternall blisse. + +LXIV. + +Comming to kisse her lyps, (such grace I found,) +Me seemd I smelt a gardin of sweet flowres, +That dainty odours from them threw around, +For damzels fit to decke their lovers bowres. +Her lips did smell lyke unto gillyflowers; +Her ruddy cheekes lyke unto roses red; +Her snowy browes lyke budded bellamoures; +Her lovely eyes lyke pincks but newly spred; +Her goodly bosome lyke a strawberry bed; +Her neck lyke to a bounch of cullambynes; +Her brest lyke lillyes, ere their leaves be shed; +Her nipples lyke young blossomd jessemynes. + Such fragrant flowres doe give most odorous smell; + But her sweet odour did them all excell. + + +[Footnote: LXIV. 7.—_Bellamoures_. I have not discovered what flower is +here meant. C.] + +LXV. + +The doubt which ye misdeeme, fayre Love, is vaine, +That fondly feare to lose your liberty, +When, losing one, two liberties ye gayne, +And make him bond that bondage earst did fly. +Sweet be the bands the which true love doth tye, +Without constraynt or dread of any ill: +The gentle birde feeles no captivity +Within her cage, but sings, and feeds her fill. +There pride dare not approch, nor discord spill +The league twixt them that loyal love hath bound, +But simple Truth and mutual Good-will +Seeks with sweet peace to salve each others wound: + There Fayth doth fearless dwell in brasen towre, + And spotlesse Pleasure builds her sacred bowre. + +LXVI. + +To all those happy blessings which ye have +With plenteous hand by heaven upon you thrown, +This one disparagement they to you gave, +That ye your love lent to so meane a one. +Ye, whose high worths surpassing paragon +Could not on earth have found one fit for mate, +Ne but in heaven matchable to none, +Why did ye stoup unto so lowly state? +But ye thereby much greater glory gate, +Then had ye sorted with a princes pere: +For now your light doth more it selfe dilate, +And, in my darknesse, greater doth appeare. + Yet, since your light hath once enlumind me, + With my reflex yours shall encreased be. + +LXVII. + +Lyke as a huntsman, after weary chace, +Seeing the game from him escapt away, +Sits downe to rest him in some shady place, +With panting hounds, beguiled of their pray, +So, after long pursuit and vaine assay, +When I all weary had the chace forsooke, +The gentle deer returnd the selfe-same way, +Thinking to quench her thirst at the next brooke. +There she, beholding me with mylder looke, +Sought not to fly, but fearlesse still did bide, +Till I in hand her yet halfe trembling tooke, +And with her own goodwill her fyrmely tyde. + Strange thing, me seemd, to see a beast so wyld + So goodly wonne, with her owne will beguyld. + +LXVIII + +Most glorious Lord of lyfe! that on this day +Didst make thy triumph over death and sin, +And, having harrowd* hell, didst bring away +Captivity thence captive, us to win, +This ioyous day, dear Lord, with ioy begin; +And grant that we, for whom thou diddest dy, +Being with thy deare blood clene washt from sin, +May live for ever in felicity; +And that thy love we weighing worthily, +May likewise love thee for the same againe, +And for thy sake, that all lyke deare didst buy, +With love may one another entertayne! + So let us love, deare Love, lyke as we ought: + Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught. +[* _Harrowd_, despoiled.] + +LXIX. + +The famous warriors of the anticke world +Us’d trophees to erect in stately wize, +In which they would the records have enrold +Of theyr great deeds and valorous emprize. +What trophee then shall I most fit devize, +In which I may record the memory +Of my loves conquest, peerlesse beauties prise, +Adorn’d with honour, love, and chastity! +Even this verse, vowd to eternity, +Shall be thereof immortall moniment, +And tell her praise to all posterity, +That may admire such worlds rare wonderment; + The happy purchase of my glorious spoile, + Gotten at last with labour and long toyle. + +LXX. + +Fresh Spring, the herald of loves mighty king, +In whose cote-armour richly are displayd +All sorts of flowres the which on earth do spring, +In goodly colours gloriously arrayd, +Goe to my Love, where she is carelesse layd, +Yet in her winters bowre not well awake: +Tell her the ioyous time wil not be staid, +Unlesse she doe him by the forelock take; +Bid her therefore her selfe soone ready make, +To wayt on Love amongst his lovely crew, +Where every one that misseth then her make* +Shall be by him amearst with penance dew. + Make haste therefore, sweet Love, while it is prime**; + For none can call againe the passed time. +[* _Make_, mate.] +[** _Prime_, spring.] + +LXXI. + +I ioy to see how, in your drawen work, +Your selfe unto the Bee ye doe compare, +And me unto the Spyder, that doth lurke +In close awayt, to catch her unaware. +Right so your selfe were caught in cunning snare +Of a deare foe, and thralled to his love; +In whose streight bands ye now captived are +So firmely, that ye never may remove. +But as your worke is woven all about +With woodbynd flowers and fragrant eglantine, +So sweet your prison you in time shall prove, +With many deare delights bedecked fyne: + And all thensforth eternall peace shall see + Betweene the Spyder and the gentle Bee. + +LXXII. + +Oft when my spirit doth spred her bolder winges, +In mind to mount up to the purest sky, +It down is weighd with thought of earthly things, +And clogd with burden of mortality: +Where, when that soverayne beauty it doth spy, +Resembling heavens glory in her light, +Drawn with sweet pleasures bayt it back doth fly, +And unto heaven forgets her former flight. +There my fraile fancy, fed with full delight, +Doth bathe in blisse, and mantleth most at ease; +Ne thinks of other heaven, but how it might +Her harts desire with most contentment please. + Hart need not wish none other happinesse, + But here on earth to have such hevens blisse. + +LXXIII + +Being my self captyved here in care, +My hart, (whom none with servile bands can tye, +But the fayre tresses of your golden hayre,) +Breaking his prison, forth to you doth fly. +Like as a byrd, that in ones hand doth spy +Desired food, to it doth make his flight, +Even so my hart, that wont on your fayre eye +To feed his fill, flyes backe unto your sight. +Doe you him take, and in your bosome bright +Gently encage, that he may be your thrall: +Perhaps he there may learne, with rare delight, +To sing your name and prayses over all: + That it hereafter may you not repent, + Him lodging in your bosome to have lent. + +LXXIV + +Most happy letters! fram’d by skilfull trade, +With which that happy name was first desynd +The which three times thrise happy hath me made, +With guifts of body, fortune, and of mind. +The first ray being to me gave by kind, +From mothers womb deriv’d by dew descent: +The second is my sovereigne Queene most kind, +That honour and large richesse to me lent: +The third my Love, my lives last ornament, +By whom my spirit out of dust was raysed, +To speake her prayse and glory excellent, +Of all alive most worthy to be praysed. + Ye three Elizabeths! for ever live, + That three such graces did unto me give. + +LXXV. + +One day I wrote her name upon the strand, +But came the waves and washed it away: +Agayne I wrote it with a second hand; +But came the tyde, and made my paynes his pray. +“Vayne man,” sayd she, “that doest in vaine assay +A mortall thing so to immortalize; +For I my selve shall lyke to this decay, +And eke my name bee wyped out lykewize.” +“Not so,” quod I; “let baser things devize +To dy in dust, but you shall live by fame: +My verse your vertues rare shall eternize, +And in the hevens wryte your glorious name. + Where, when as death shall all the world subdew, + Our love shall live, and later life renew.” + +LXXVI + +Fayre bosome! fraught with vertues richest tresure, +The neast of love, the lodging of delight, +The bowre of blisse, the paradice of pleasure, +The sacred harbour of that hevenly spright, +How was I ravisht with your lovely sight, +And my frayle thoughts too rashly led astray, +Whiles diving deepe through amorous insight, +On the sweet spoyle of beautie they did pray, +And twixt her paps, like early fruit in May, +Whose harvest seemd to hasten now apace, +They loosely did theyr wanton winges display, +And there to rest themselves did boldly place. + Sweet thoughts! I envy your so happy rest, + Which oft I wisht, yet never was so blest. + +LXXVII. + +Was it a dreame, or did I see it playne? +A goodly table of pure yvory, +All spred with juncats fit to entertayne +The greatest prince with pompous roialty: +Mongst which, there in a silver dish did ly +Two golden apples of unvalewd* price, +Far passing those which Hercules came by, +Or those which Atalanta did entice; +Exceeding sweet, yet voyd of sinfull vice; +That many sought, yet none could ever taste; +Sweet fruit of pleasure, brought from Paradice +By Love himselfe, and in his garden plaste. + Her brest that table was, so richly spredd; + My thoughts the guests, which would thereon have fedd. +[* _Unvalewd_, invaluable] + +LXXVIII + +Lackyng my Love, I go from place to place, +Lyke a young fawne that late hath lost the hynd, +And seeke each where where last I sawe her face, +Whose ymage yet I carry fresh in mynd. +I seeke the fields with her late footing synd; +I seeke her bowre with her late presence deckt; +Yet nor in field nor bowre I can her fynd, +Yet field and bowre are full of her aspect. +But when myne eyes I therunto direct, +They ydly back return to me agayne; +And when I hope to see theyr trew obiect, +I fynd my self but fed with fancies vayne. + Cease then, myne eyes, to seeke her selfe to see, + And let my thoughts behold her selfe in mee. + +LXXIX + +Men call you fayre, and you doe credit it, +For that your selfe ye daily such doe see: +But the trew fayre, that is the gentle wit +And vertuous mind, is much more praysd of me. +For all the rest, how ever fayre it be, +Shall turne to nought and lose that glorious hew; +But onely that is permanent, and free +From frayle corruption that doth flesh ensew. +That is true beautie: that doth argue you +To be divine, and born of heavenly seed, +Deriv’d from that fayre Spirit from whom all true +And perfect beauty did at first proceed. + He only fayre, and what he fayre hath made; + All other fayre, lyke flowres, untymely fade. + +LXXX + +After so long a race as I have run +Through Faery land, which those six books compile, +Give leave to rest me being half foredonne, +And gather to my selfe new breath awhile. +Then, as a steed refreshed after toyle, +Out of my prison I will break anew, +And stoutly will that second work assoyle*, +With strong endevour and attention dew. +Till then give leave to me in pleasant mew** +To sport my Muse, and sing my Loves sweet praise, +The contemplation of whose heavenly hew +My spirit to an higher pitch will rayse. + But let her prayses yet be low and meane, + Fit for the handmayd of the Faery Queene. +[* _Assoyle_, discharge.] +[** _Mew_, prison, retreat.] + +LXXXI. + +Fayre is my Love, when her fayre golden haires +With the loose wynd ye waving chance to marke; +Fayre, when the rose in her red cheekes appeares, +Or in her eyes the fyre of love does sparke; +Fayre, when her brest, lyke a rich laden barke, +With pretious merchandize she forth doth lay; +Fayre, when that cloud of pryde, which oft doth dark +Her goodly light, with smiles she drives away. +But fayrest she, when so she doth display +The gate with pearles and rubyes richly dight, +Throgh which her words so wise do make their way, +To beare the message of her gentle spright. + The rest be works of Natures wonderment; + But this the worke of harts astonishment. + +LXXXII. + +Ioy of my life! full oft for loving you +I blesse my lot, that was so lucky placed: +But then the more your owne mishap I rew, +That are so much by so meane love embased. +For had the equall hevens so much you graced +In this as in the rest, ye mote invent* +Some hevenly wit, whose verse could have enchased +Your glorious name in golden moniment. +But since ye deignd so goodly to relent +To me your thrall, in whom is little worth, +That little that I am shall all be spent +In setting your immortal prayses forth: + Whose lofty argument, uplifting me, + Shall lift you up unto an high degree. +[* _Invent_, light upon, find.] + +LXXXIII + +Let not one sparke of filthy lustfull fyre +Breake out, that may her sacred peace molest; +Ne one light glance of sensuall desyre +Attempt to work her gentle mindes unrest: +But pure affections bred in spotlesse brest, +And modest thoughts breathd from well-tempred spirits, +Goe visit her in her chaste bowre of rest, +Accompanyde with ángelick delightes. +There fill your selfe with those most ioyous sights, +The which my selfe could never yet attayne: +But speake no word to her of these sad plights, +Which her too constant stiffnesse doth constrayn. + Onely behold her rare perfection, + And blesse your fortunes fayre election. + +LXXXIV. + +The world, that cannot deeme of worthy things, +When I doe praise her, say I doe but flatter: +So does the cuckow, when the mavis* sings, +Begin his witlesse note apace to clatter. +But they, that skill not of so heavenly matter, +All that they know not, envy or admyre; +Rather then envy, let them wonder at her, +But not to deeme of her desert aspyre. +Deepe in the closet of my parts entyre**, +Her worth is written with a golden quill, +That me with heavenly fury doth inspire, +And my glad mouth with her sweet prayses fill: + Which when as Fame in her shril trump shall thunder, + Let the world chuse to envy or to wonder. +[* _Mavis_, song-thrush.] +[** _Entyre,_ inward.] + +LXXXV. + +Venemous tongue, tipt with vile adders sting, +Of that self kynd with which the Furies fell, +Their snaky heads doe combe, from which a spring +Of poysoned words and spightfull speeches well, +Let all the plagues and horrid paines of hell +Upon thee fall for thine accursed hyre, +That with false forged lyes, which thou didst tell, +In my true Love did stirre up coles of yre: +The sparkes whereof let kindle thine own fyre, +And, catching hold on thine own wicked hed, +Consume thee quite, that didst with guile conspire +In my sweet peace such breaches to have bred! + Shame be thy meed, and mischiefe thy reward, + Due to thy selfe, that it for me prepard! + +LXXXVI. + +Since I did leave the presence of my Love, +Many long weary dayes I have outworne, +And many nights, that slowly seemd to move +Theyr sad protract from evening untill morn. +For, when as day the heaven doth adorne, +I wish that night the noyous day would end: +And when as night hath us of light forlorne, +I wish that day would shortly reascend. +Thus I the time with expectation spend, +And faine my griefe with chaunges to beguile, +That further seemes his terme still to extend, +And maketh every minute seem a myle. + So sorrowe still doth seem too long to last; + But ioyous houres do fly away too fast. + +LXXXVII. + +Since I have lackt the comfort of that light +The which was wont to lead my thoughts astray, +I wander as in darknesse of the night, +Affrayd of every dangers least dismay. +Ne ought I see, though in the clearest day, +When others gaze upon theyr shadowes vayne, +But th’only image of that heavenly ray +Whereof some glance doth in mine eie remayne. +Of which beholding the idaea playne, +Through contemplation of my purest part, +With light thereof I doe my self sustayne, +And thereon feed my love-affamisht hart. + But with such brightnesse whylest I fill my mind, + I starve my body, and mine eyes doe blynd. + +LXXXVIII. + +Lyke as the culver* on the bared bough +Sits mourning for the absence of her mate, +And in her songs sends many a wishful vow +For his returne, that seemes to linger late, +So I alone, now left disconsolate, +Mourne to my selfe the absence of my Love; +And wandring here and there all desolate, +Seek with my playnts to match that mournful dove +Ne ioy of ought that under heaven doth hove**, +Can comfort me, but her owne ioyous sight, +Whose sweet aspect both God and man can move, +In her unspotted pleasauns to delight. + Dark is my day, whyles her fayre light I mis, + And dead my life that wants such lively blis. +[* _Culver_, dove.] +[** _Hove_, hover, exist.] + + + + +EPITHALAMION. + + +Ye learned Sisters, which have oftentimes +Beene to me ayding, others to adorne +Whom ye thought worthy of your gracefull rymes, +That even the greatest did not greatly scorne +To heare theyr names sung in your simple layes, 5 +But ioyed in theyr praise, +And when ye list your own mishaps to mourne, +Which death, or love, or fortunes wreck did rayse, +Your string could soone to sadder tenor turne, +And teach the woods and waters to lament 10 +Your dolefull dreriment, +Now lay those sorrowfull complaints aside, +And having all your heads with girlands crownd, +Helpe me mine owne Loves prayses to resound: +Ne let the same of any be envide: 15 +So Orpheus did for his owne bride; +So I unto my selfe alone will sing; +The woods shall to me answer, and my eccho ring. + + +Early, before the worlds light-giving lampe +His golden beame upon the hils doth spred, 20 +Having disperst the nights unchearfull dampe, +Doe ye awake, and, with fresh lustyhed, +Go to the bowre of my beloved Love, +My truest turtle dove. +Bid her awake; for Hymen is awake, 25 +And long since ready forth his maske to move, +With his bright tead* that flames with many a flake, +And many a bachelor to waite on him, +In theyr fresh garments trim. +Bid her awake therefore, and soone her dight**, 30 +For loe! the wished day is come at last, +That shall for all the paynes and sorrowes past +Pay to her usury of long delight: +And whylest she doth her dight, +Doe ye to her of ioy and solace sing, 35 +That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring. + [* _Tead,_ torch.] + [** _Dight,_ deck.] + + +Bring with you all the nymphes that you can heare, +Both of the rivers and the forrests greene, +And of the sea that neighbours to her neare, +All with gay girlands goodly wel beseene*. 40 +And let them also with them bring in hand +Another gay girland, +For my fayre Love, of lillyes and of roses, +Bound truelove wize with a blew silke riband. +And let them make great store of bridale poses, 45 +And let them eke bring store of other flowers, +To deck the bridale bowers: +And let the ground whereas her foot shall tread, +For feare the stones her tender foot should wrong, +Be strewd with fragrant flowers all along, 50 +And diapred** lyke the discolored mead. +Which done, doe at her chamber dore awayt, +For she will waken strayt; +The whiles do ye this song unto her sing, +The woods shall to you answer, and your eccho ring;. + [* _Beseene,_ adorned.] + [** _Diapred,_ variegated.] + + +Ye Nymphes of Mulla, which with carefull heed 56 +The silver scaly trouts do tend full well, +And greedy pikes which use therein to feed, +(Those trouts and pikes all others doe excell,) +And ye likewise which keepe the rushy lake, 60 +Where none doo fishes take, +Bynd up the locks the which hang scatterd light, +And in his waters, which your mirror make, +Behold your faces as the christall bright, +That when you come whereas my Love doth lie, 65 +No blemish she may spie. +And eke, ye lightfoot mayds which keepe the dere +That on the hoary mountayne use to towre, +And the wylde wolves, which seeke them to devoure, +With your steele darts doe chace from coming neer, +Be also present heere, 71 +To helpe to decke her, and to help to sing, +That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring. + + +Wake now, my Love, awake! for it is time: +The rosy Morne long since left Tithons bed, 75 +All ready to her silver coche to clyme, +And Phoebus gins to shew his glorious hed. +Hark! how the cheerefull birds do chaunt theyr laies, +And carroll of Loves praise: +The merry larke hir mattins sings aloft; 80 +The thrush replyes; the mavis* descant** playes; +The ouzell@ shrills; the ruddock$ warbles soft; +So goodly all agree, with sweet consent, +To this dayes meriment. +Ah! my deere Love, why doe ye sleepe thus long, 85 +When meeter were that ye should now awake, +T’awayt the comming of your ioyous make,% +And hearken to the birds love-learned song, +The deawy leaves among! +For they of ioy and pleasance to you sing, 90 +That all the woods them answer, and theyr eccho ring. + [* _Mavis_, song-thrush.] + [** _Descant_, variation.] + [@ _Ouzell_, blackbird.] + [$ _Ruddock_, redbreast.] + [% _Make_, mate.] + + +My love is now awake out of her dreame, +And her fayre eyes, like stars that dimmed were +With darksome cloud, now shew theyr goodly beams +More bright then Hesperus his head doth rere. 95 +Come now, ye damzels, daughters of delight, +Helpe quickly her to dight. +But first come, ye fayre Houres, which were begot, +In Ioves sweet paradice, of Day and Night, +Which doe the seasons of the year allot, 100 +And all that ever in this world is fayre +Do make and still repayre: +And ye three handmayds of the Cyprian Queene, +The which doe still adorn her beauties pride, +Helpe to adorne my beautifullest bride: 105 +And, as ye her array, still throw betweene +Some graces to be scene; +And, as ye use to Venus, to her sing, +The whiles the woods shal answer, and your eccho ring. + + +Now is my Love all ready forth to come: 110 +Let all the virgins therefore well awayt, +And ye fresh boyes, that tend upon her groome, +Prepare your selves, for he is comming strayt. +Set all your things in seemely good aray, +Fit for so ioyfull day, 115 +The ioyfulst day that ever sunne did see. +Fair Sun! shew forth thy favourable ray, +And let thy lifull* heat not fervent be, +For feare of burning her sunshyny face, +Her beauty to disgrace. 120 +O fayrest Phoebus! Father of the Muse! +If ever I did honour thee aright, +Or sing the thing that mote thy mind delight, +Doe not thy servants simple boone refuse, +But let this day, let this one day, be mine; 125 +Let all the rest be thine. +Then I thy soverayne prayses loud wil sing, +That all the woods shal answer, and theyr eccho ring. + [* _Lifull_, life-full.] + + +Harke! how the minstrils gin to shrill aloud +Their merry musick that resounds from far, 130 +The pipe, the tabor, and the trembling croud*, +That well agree withouten breach or iar. +But most of all the damzels doe delite, +When they their tymbrels smyte, +And thereunto doe daunce and carrol sweet, 135 +That all the sences they doe ravish quite; +The whyles the boyes run up and downe the street, +Crying aloud with strong confused noyce, +As if it were one voyce, +“Hymen, Iö Hymen, Hymen,” they do shout; 140 +That even to the heavens theyr shouting shrill +Doth reach, and all the firmament doth fill; +To which the people, standing all about, +As in approvance, doe thereto applaud, +And loud advaunce her laud; 145 +And evermore they “Hymen, Hymen,” sing, +That all the woods them answer, and theyr eccho ring. + [* _Croud_, violin] + + +Loe! where she comes along with portly pace, +Lyke Phoebe, from her chamber of the East, +Arysing forth to run her mighty race, 150 +Clad all in white, that seems a virgin best. +So well it her beseems, that ye would weene +Some angell she had beene. +Her long loose yellow locks lyke golden wyre, +Sprinckled with perle, and perling flowres atweene, +Doe lyke a golden mantle her attyre, 156 +And, being crowned with a girland greene, +Seem lyke some mayden queene. +Her modest eyes, abashed to behold +So many gazers as on her do stare, 160 +Upon the lowly ground affixed are, +Ne dare lift up her countenance too bold, +But blush to heare her prayses sung so loud,— +So farre from being proud. +Nathlesse doe ye still loud her prayses sing, 165 +That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring. + + +Tell me, ye merchants daughters, did ye see +So fayre a creature in your towne before; +So sweet, so lovely, and so mild as she, +Adornd with beautyes grace and vertues store? 170 +Her goodly eyes lyke saphyres shining bright, +Her forehead yvory white, +Her cheekes lyke apples which the sun hath rudded, +Her lips lyke cherries, charming men to byte, +Her brest like to a bowl of creame uncrudded*, 175 +Her paps lyke lyllies budded, +Her snowie necke lyke to a marble towre, +And all her body like a pallace fayre, +Ascending up, with many a stately stayre, +To honors seat and chastities sweet bowre. 180 +Why stand ye still, ye virgins, in amaze, +Upon her so to gaze, +Whiles ye forget your former lay to sing, +To which the woods did answer, and your eccho ring? + [* _Uncrudded_, uncurdled.] + [Ver. 168.—_In your towne_. The marriage seems to have taken place in + Cork, and we might infer from this passage that the heroine of the + song was a merchant’s daughter. C.] + + +But if ye saw that which no eyes can see, 185 +The inward beauty of her lively spright, +Garnisht with heavenly guifts of high degree, +Much more then would ye wonder at that sight, +And stand astonisht lyke to those which red* +Medusaes mazeful hed. 190 +There dwells sweet Love, and constant Chastity, +Unspotted Fayth, and comely Womanhood, +Regard of Honour, and mild Modesty; +There Vertue raynes as queene in royal throne, +And giveth lawes alone, 195 +The which the base affections doe obay, +And yeeld theyr services unto her will; +Ne thought of things uncomely ever may +Thereto approch to tempt her mind to ill. +Had ye once seene these her celestial threasures, +200 +And unrevealed pleasures, +Then would ye wonder, and her prayses sing, +That all the woods should answer, and your eccho ring. + [* _Red_, saw.] + + +Open the temple gates unto my Love, +Open them wide that she may enter in, 205 +And all the postes adorne as doth behove, +And all the pillours deck with girlands trim, +For to receyve this saynt with honour dew, +That commeth in to you. +With trembling steps and humble reverence, 210 +She commeth in before th’Almighties view: +Of her, ye virgins, learne obedience, +When so ye come into those holy places, +To humble your proud faces. +Bring her up to th’high altar, that she may 215 +The sacred ceremonies there partake, +The which do endlesse matrimony make; +And let the roring organs loudly play +The praises of the Lord in lively notes; +The whiles, with hollow throates, 220 +The choristers the ioyous antheme sing, +That all the woods may answer, and their eccho ring. + + +Behold, whiles she before the altar stands, +Hearing the holy priest that to her speakes +And blesseth her with his two happy hands, 225 +How the red roses flush up in her cheekes, +And the pure snow with goodly vermill stayne, +Like crimsin dyde in grayne: +That even the angels, which continually +About the sacred altar doe remaine, 230 +Forget their service and about her fly, +Ofte peeping in her face, that seems more fayre +The more they on it stare. +But her sad* eyes, still fastened on the ground, +Are governed with goodly modesty, 235 +That suffers not one look to glaunce awry, +Which may let in a little thought unsownd. +Why blush ye, Love, to give to me your hand, +The pledge of all our band? +Sing, ye sweet angels, Alleluya sing, 240 +That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring. + [* _Sad_, serious] + + +Now al is done; bring home the bride againe; +Bring home the triumph of our victory; +Bring home with you the glory of her game, +With ioyance bring her and with iollity. 245 +Never had man more ioyfull day than this, +Whom heaven would heape with blis. +Make feast therefore now all this live-long day; +This day for ever to me holy is. +Poure out the wine without restraint or stay, +Poure not by cups, but by the belly full, +Poure out to all that wull*, +And sprinkle all the posts and wals with wine, +That they may sweat, and drunken be withall. +Crowne ye god Bacchus with a coronall, +And Hymen also crowne with wreaths of vine; +And let the Graces daunce unto the rest, +For they can doo it best: +The whiles the maydens doe theyr carroll sing, +To which the woods shall answer, and theyr eccho ring. + [* _Wull_, will.] + + +Ring ye the bels, ye yong men of the towne, +And leave your wonted labors for this day: +This day is holy; doe ye write it downe, +That ye for ever it remember may. +This day the sunne is in his chiefest hight, +With Barnaby the bright*, +From whence declining daily by degrees, +He somewhat loseth of his heat and light, +When once the Crab behind his back he sees. +But for this time it ill ordained was, +To choose the longest day in all the yeare, +And shortest night, when longest fitter weare: +Yet never day so long, but late would passe. +Ring ye the bels to make it weare away, +And bonefiers make all day; 275 +And daunce about them, and about them sing, +That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring. + [* Ver. 266.—_Barnaby the bright_. The difference between the old and + new style at the time this poem was written was ten days. The summer + solstice therefore fell on St. Barnabas’s day, the 11th of June. C.] + + +Ah! when will this long weary day have end, +And lende me leave to come unto my Love? +How slowly do the houres theyr numbers spend? 280 +How slowly does sad Time his feathers move? +Hast thee, O fayrest planet, to thy home, +Within the Westerne fome: +Thy tyred steedes long since have need of rest. +Long though it be, at last I see it gloome, 285 +And the bright evening-star with golden creast +Appeare out of the East. +Fayre childe of beauty! glorious lampe of love! +That all the host of heaven in rankes doost lead, +And guidest lovers through the nights sad dread, 290 +How chearefully thou lookest from above, +And seemst to laugh atweene thy twinkling light, +As ioying in the sight +Of these glad many, which for ioy do sing, 294 +That all the woods them answer, and their eccho ring! + + +Now ceasse, ye damsels, your delights fore-past; +Enough it is that all the day was youres: +Now day is doen, and night is nighing fast; +Now bring the bryde into the brydall bowres. +The night is come; now soon her disaray, 300 +And in her bed her lay; +Lay her in lillies and in violets, +And silken curteins over her display, +And odourd sheets, and Arras coverlets. +Behold how goodly my faire Love does ly, 305 +In proud humility! +Like unto Maia, when as Iove her took +In Tempe, lying on the flowry gras, +Twixt sleepe and wake, after she weary was +With bathing in the Acidalian brooke. 310 +Now it is night, ye damsels may be gone, +And leave my Love alone, +And leave likewise your former lay to sing: +The woods no more shall answer, nor your eccho ring. + + +Now welcome, Night! thou night so long expected, +That long daies labour doest at last defray, 316 +And all my cares, which cruell Love collected, +Hast sumd in one, and cancelled for aye. +Spread thy broad wing over my Love and me, +That no man may us see; 320 +And in thy sable mantle us enwrap, +From feare of perrill and foule horror free. +Let no false treason seeke us to entrap, +Nor any dread disquiet once annoy +The safety of our ioy; 325 +But let the night be calme and quietsome, +Without tempestuous storms or sad afray; +Lyke as when Iove with fayre Alemena lay, +When he begot the great Tirynthian groome; +Or lyke as when he with thy selfe did lie, 330 +And begot Maiesty: +And let the mayds and yongmen cease to sing; +Ne let the woods them answer, nor theyr eccho ring. + + +Let no lamenting cryes, nor dolefull teares, +Be heard all night within, nor yet without: 335 +Ne let false whispers, breeding hidden feares, +Breake gentle sleepe with misconceived dout. +Let no deluding dreames, nor dreadful sights, +Make sudden sad affrights: +Ne let house-fyres, nor lightnings helpless harmes, +340 +Ne let the Pouke, nor other evill sprights, +Ne let mischievous witches with theyr charmes, +Ne let hob-goblins, names whose sence we see not, +Fray us with things that be not: +Let not the shriech-owle, nor the storke, be heard, +345 +Nor the night-raven, that still deadly yels, +Nor damned ghosts, cald up with mighty spels, +Nor griesly vultures, make us once affeard: +Ne let th’unpleasant quyre of frogs still croking +Make us to wish theyr choking. 350 +Let none of these theyr drery accents sing; +Ne let the woods them answer, nor theyr eccho ring. + [Ver. 341.—The _Pouke_ (Puck is a generic term, signifying fiend, or + mischievous imp) is Robin Goodfellow. C.] + + +But let stil Silence trew night-watches keepe, +That sacred Peace may in assurance rayne, +And tymely Sleep, when it is tyme to sleepe, 355 +May poure his limbs forth on your pleasant playne. +The whiles an hundred little winged Loves, +Like divers-fethered doves, +Shall fly and flutter round about the bed, +And in the secret darke, that none reproves, 360 +Their prety stealthes shall worke, and snares shall spread +To filch away sweet snatches of delight, +Conceald through covert night. +Ye sonnes of Venus, play your sports at will! +For greedy Pleasure, carelesse of your toyes, 365 +Thinks more upon her paradise of ioyes, +Then what ye do, albe it good or ill. +All night, therefore, attend your merry play, +For it will soone be day: +Now none doth hinder you, that say or sing; 370 +Ne will the woods now answer, nor your eccho ring. + + +Who is the same which at my window peepes? +Or whose is that faire face that shines so bright? +Is it not Cinthia, she that never sleepes, +But walkes about high heaven al the night? 375 +O fayrest goddesse! do thou not envy +My Love with me to spy: +For thou likewise didst love, though now unthought, +And for a fleece of wooll, which privily +The Latmian Shepherd* once unto thee brought, 380 +His pleasures with thee wrought. +Therefore to us be favorable now; +And sith of wemens labours thou hast charge, +And generation goodly dost enlarge, +Encline thy will t’effect our wishfull vow, 385 +And the chast womb informe with timely seed, +That may our comfort breed: +Till which we cease our hopefull hap to sing, +Ne let the woods us answer, nor our eccho ring. + [* I.e. Endymion.] + + +And thou, great Iuno! which with awful might 390 +The lawes of wedlock still dost patronize, +And the religion of the faith first plight +With sacred rites hast taught to solemnize, +And eke for comfort often called art +Of women in their smart, 395 +Eternally bind thou this lovely band, +And all thy blessings unto us impart. +And thou, glad Genius! in whose gentle hand +The bridale bowre and geniall bed remaine, +Without blemish or staine, 400 +And the sweet pleasures of theyr loves delight +With secret ayde doost succour and supply, +Till they bring forth the fruitfull progeny, +Send us the timely fruit of this same night, +And thou, fayre Hebe! and thou, Hymen free! 405 +Grant that it may so be. +Till which we cease your further prayse to sing, +Ne any woods shall answer, nor your eccho ring. + + +And ye high heavens, the temple of the gods, +In which a thousand torches flaming bright 410 +Doe burne, that to us wretched earthly clods +In dreadful darknesse lend desired light, +And all ye powers which in the same remayne, +More than we men can fayne, +Poure out your blessing on us plentiously, 415 +And happy influence upon us raine, +That we may raise a large posterity, +Which from the earth, which they may long possesse +With lasting happinesse, +Up to your haughty pallaces may mount, 420 +And for the guerdon of theyr glorious merit, +May heavenly tabernacles there inherit, +Of blessed saints for to increase the count. +So let us rest, sweet Love, in hope of this, +And cease till then our tymely ioyes to sing: 425 +The woods no more us answer, nor our eccho ring! + + +_Song, made in lieu of many ornaments +With which my Love should duly have been dect, +Which cutting off through hasty accidents, +Ye would not stay your dew time to expect, 430 +But promist both to recompens, +Be unto her a goodly ornament, +And for short time an endlesse moniment!_ + + + + +PROTHALAMION: + +OR, + +A SPOUSALL VERSE, + +MADE BY + +EDM. SPENSER. + + +IN HONOUR OF THE DOUBLE MARRIAGE OF THE TWO HONORABLE AND VERTUOUS +LADIES, THE LADIE ELIZABETH, AND THE LADIE KATHERINE SOMERSET, +DAUGHTERS TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE THE EARLE OF WORCESTER, AND ESPOUSED +TO THE TWO WORTHIE GENTLEMEN, M. HENRY GILFORD AND M. WILLIAM PETER, +ESQUYERS. + +(1596) + +PROTHALAMION: + +OR, + +A SPOUSALL VERSE. + + +Calme was the day, and through the trembling ayre +Sweete-breathing Zephyrus did softly play +A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay* +Hot Titans beames, which then did glyster fayre; +When I (whom sullein care, +Through discontent of my long fruitlesse stay +In princes court, and expectation vayne +Of idle hopes, which still doe fly away +Like empty shadows, did afflict my brayne,) +Walkt forth to ease my payne 10 +Along the shoare of silver streaming Themmes; +Whose rutty** bank, the which his river hemmes, +Was paynted all with variable flowers, +And all the meades adornd with dainty gemmes, +Fit to decke maydens bowres, 15 +And crowne their paramours +Against the brydale day, which is not long@: + Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song. +[* _Delay_, allay.] +[** _Rutty_, rooty.] +[@ _Long_, distant.] + + +There, in a meadow by the rivers side, +A flocke of Nymphes I chaunced to espy, 20 +All lovely daughters of the flood thereby, +With goodly greenish locks, all loose untyde, +As each had bene a bryde; +And each one had a little wicker basket, +Made of fine twigs, entrayled* curiously, 25 +In which they gathered flowers to fill their flasket**, +And with fine fingers cropt full feateously@ +The tender stalkes on hye. +Of every sort which in that meadow grew +They gathered some; the violet, pallid blew, 30 +The little dazie, that at evening closes, +The virgin lillie, and the primrose trew, +With store of vermeil roses, +To deck their bridegroomes posies +Against the brydale day, which was not long: 35 + Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song. +[* _Entrayled_, interwoven.] +[** _Flasket_, a long, shallow basket.] +[@ _Feateously_, dexterously.] + + +With that I saw two Swannes of goodly hewe +Come softly swimming downe along the lee*: +Two fairer birds I yet did never see; +The snow which doth the top of Pindus strew 40 +Did never whiter shew, +Nor Jove himselfe, when he a swan would be +For love of Leda, whiter did appear; +Yet Leda was, they say, as white as he, +Yet not so white as these, nor nothing near: 45 +So purely white they were, +That even the gentle stream, the which them bare, +Seem’d foule to them, and bad his billowes spare +To wet their silken feathers, least they might +Soyle their fayre plumes with water not so fayre, 50 +And marre their beauties bright, +That shone as heavens light, +Against their brydale day, which was not long: + Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song. +[* _Lee_, stream.] + + +Eftsoones, the Nymphes, which now had flowers their fill, + 55 +Ran all in haste to see that silver brood, +As they came floating on the cristal flood; +Whom when they sawe, they stood amazed still, +Their wondring eyes to fill. +Them seem’d they never saw a sight so fayre 60 +Of fowles, so lovely, that they sure did deeme +Them heavenly borne, or to be that same payre +Which through the skie draw Venus stiver teeme; +For sure they did not seeme +To be begot of any earthly seede, 65 +But rather angels, or of angels breede; +Yet were they bred of Somers-heat, they say, +In sweetest season, when each flower and weede +The earth did fresh aray; +So fresh they seem’d as day, 70 +Even as their brydale day, which was not long: + Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song. +[Ver. 67—_Somers-heat_. A pun on the name of the Ladies Somerset. C.] + + +Then forth they all out of their baskets drew +Great store of flowers, the honour of the field, +That to the sense did fragrant odours yeild, 75 +All which upon those goodly birds they threw, +And all the waves did strew, +That like old Peneus waters they did seeme, +When downe along by pleasant Tempes shore, +Scattred with flowres, through Thessaly they streeme, +That they appeare, through lillies plenteous store, +81 +Like a brydes chamber flore. +Two of those Nymphes, meane while, two garlands bound +Of freshest flowres which in that mead they found, +The which presenting all in trim array, 85 +Their snowie foreheads therewithall they crownd, +Whilst one did sing this lay, +Prepar’d against that day, +Against their brydale day, which was not long: + Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song. + + +“Ye gentle Birdes! the worlds faire ornament, 91 +And heavens glorie, whom this happie hower +Doth leade unto your lovers blissfull bower, +Ioy may you have, and gentle hearts content +Of your loves couplement; 95 +And let faire Venus, that is Queene of Love, +With her heart-quelling sonne upon you smile, +Whose smile, they say, hath vertue to remove +All loves dislike, and friendships faultie guile +For ever to assoile*. 100 +Let endlesse peace your steadfast hearts accord, +And blessed plentie wait upon your bord; +And let your bed with pleasures chast abound. +That fruitfull issue may to you afford, +Which may your foes confound, 105 +And make your ioyes redound +Upon your brydale day, which is not long: + Sweet Themmes! runne softlie, till I end my song.” +[* _Assoile_, do away with.] + + +So ended she; and all the rest around +To her redoubled that her undersong*, 110 +Which said, their brydale daye should not be long: +And gentle Eccho from the neighbour ground +Their accents did resound. +So forth those ioyous birdes did passe along +Adowne the lee, that to them murmurde low, 115 +As he would speake, but that he lackt a tong, +Yet did by signes his glad affection show, +Making his streame run slow. +And all the foule which in his flood did dwell +Gan flock about these twaine, that did excell 120 +The rest so far as Cynthia doth shend** +The lesser stars. So they, enranged well, +Did on those two attend, +And their best service lend +Against their wedding day, which was not long: 125 + Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song. +[* _Undersong_, burden.] +[** _Shend_, put to shame.] + + +At length they all to mery London came, +To mery London, my most kyndly nurse, +That to me gave this lifes first native sourse, +Though from another place I take my name, 130 +An house of auncient fame. +There when they came whereas those bricky towres +The which on Themmes brode aged backe doe ryde, +Where now the studious lawyers have their bowers.— +There whylome wont the Templer Knights to byde, +Till they decayd through pride,— 136 +Next whereunto there standes a stately place, +Where oft I gayned giftes and goodly grace +Of that great lord which therein wont to dwell, +Whose want too well now feels my freendles case: 140 +But ah! here fits not well +Olde woes, but ioyes, to tell, +Against the bridale daye, which is not long: + Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song. +[Ver. 137.—_A stately place_ Exeter House, the residence first of the +Earl of Leicester, and afterwards of Essex. C.] + + +Yet therein now doth lodge a noble peer, 145 +Great Englands glory and the worlds wide wonder, +Whose dreadfull name late through all Spaine did thunder, +And Hercules two pillors standing neere +Did make to quake and feare. +Faire branch of honor, flower of chevalrie! 150 +That fillest England with thy triumphs fame, +Ioy have thou of thy noble victorie, +And endlesse happinesse of thine owne name, +That promiseth the same; +That through thy prowesse and victorious armes 155 +Thy country may be freed from forraine harmes, +And great Elisaes glorious name may ring +Through al the world, fil’d with thy wide alarmes. +Which some brave Muse may sing +To ages following, 160 +Upon the brydale day, which is not long: + Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song. +[Ver. 147.—_Whose dreadfull name, &c_. The allusion here is to the +expedition against Cadiz, from which Essex returned in August, 1596. +C.] + + +From those high towers this noble lord issuing, +Like radiant Hesper, when his golden hayre +In th’ocean billowes he hath bathed fayre, 165 +Descended to the rivers open vewing, +With a great traine ensuing. +Above the rest were goodly to bee scene +Two gentle Knights of lovely face and feature, +Beseeming well the bower of any queene, 170 +With gifts of wit and ornaments of nature +Fit for so goodly stature, +That like the twins of Iove they seem’d in sight, +Which decke the bauldricke of the heavens bright. +They two, forth pacing to the rivers side, 175 +Receiv’d those two faire brides, their loves delight; +Which, at th’appointed tyde, +Each one did make his bryde +Against their brydale day, which is not long: 179 + Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song. + + + + +FOWRE HYMNES + +MADE BY + +EDM. SPENSER. + +TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE AND MOST VERTUOUS LADIES, + +THE LADIE MARGARET, + +COUNTESSE OF CUMBERLAND; + +AND THE LADIE MARIE*, + +COUNTESSE OF WARWICK. + + +Having, in the greener times of my youth, composed these former two +Hymnes in the praise of love and beautie, and finding that the same too +much pleased those of like age and disposition, which, being too +vehemently carried with that kind of affection, do rather sucke out +poyson to their strong passion, then honey to their honest delight, I +was moved, by the one of you two most excellent Ladies, to call in the +same; but being unable so to do, by reason that many copies thereof +were formerly scattered abroad, I resolved at least to amend, and, by +way of retraction, to reforme them, making (instead of those two Hymnes +of earthly or naturall love and beautie) two others of heavenly and +celestiall; the which I doe dedicate ioyntly unto you two honorable +sisters, as to the most excellent and rare ornaments of all true love +and beautie, both in the one and the other kind; humbly beseeching you +to vouchsafe the patronage of them, and to accept this my humble +service, in lieu of the great graces and honourable favours which ye +dayly shew unto me, until such time as I may, by better meanes, yeeld +you some more notable testimonie of my thankfull mind and dutifull +devotion. And even so I pray for your happinesse. Greenwich, this first +of September, 1596. Your Honors most bounden ever, + + +In all humble service, + +ED. SP. + + +[* The Countess of Warwick’s name was Anne, not Mary. TODD.] + + +AN HYMNE + +IN HONOUR OF LOVE. + + +Love, that long since hast to thy mighty powre +Perforce subdude my poor captived hart, +And raging now therein with restlesse stowre*, +Doest tyrannize in everie weaker part, +Faine would I seeke to ease my bitter smart 5 +By any service I might do to thee, +Or ought that else might to thee pleasing bee. + [* _Stowre_, commotion.] + + +And now t’asswage the force of this new flame, +And make thee more propitious in my need, +I meane to sing the praises of thy name, 10 +And thy victorious conquests to areed*, +By which thou madest many harts to bleed +Of mighty victors, with wide wounds embrewed, +And by thy cruell darts to thee subdewed. + [* _Areed_, set forth.] + + +Onely I fear my wits, enfeebled late 15 +Through the sharp sorrowes which thou hast me bred, +Should faint, and words should faile me to relate +The wondrous triumphs of thy great god-hed: +But, if thou wouldst vouchsafe to overspred +Me with the shadow of thy gentle wing, 20 +I should enabled be thy actes to sing. + + +Come, then, O come, thou mightie God of Love! +Out of thy silver bowres and secret blisse, +Where thou dost sit in Venus lap above, +Bathing thy wings in her ambrosial kisse, 25 +That sweeter farre than any nectar is, +Come softly, and my feeble breast inspire +With gentle furie, kindled of thy fire. + + +And ye, sweet Muses! which have often proved +The piercing points of his avengefull darts, 30 +And ye, fair Nimphs! which oftentimes have loved +The cruel worker of your kindly smarts, +Prepare yourselves, and open wide your harts +For to receive the triumph of your glorie, +That made you merie oft when ye were sorrie. 35 + + +And ye, faire blossoms of youths wanton breed! +Which in the conquests of your beautie bost, +Wherewith your lovers feeble eyes you feed, +But sterve their harts, that needeth nourture most, +Prepare your selves to march amongst his host, 40 +And all the way this sacred hymne do sing, +Made in the honor of your soveraigne king. + + +Great God of Might, that reignest in the mynd, +And all the bodie to thy hest doest frame, +Victor of gods, subduer of mankynd, 45 +That doest the lions and fell tigers tame, +Making their cruell rage thy scornfull game, +And in their roring taking great delight, +Who can expresse the glorie of thy might? + + +Or who alive can perfectly declare 50 +The wondrous cradle of thine infancie, +When thy great mother Venus first thee bare, +Begot of Plenty and of Penurie, +Though elder then thine own nativitie, +And yet a chyld, renewing still thy yeares, 55 +And yet the eldest of the heavenly peares? + + +For ere this worlds still moving mightie masse +Out of great Chaos ugly prison crept, +In which his goodly face long hidden was +From heavens view, and in deep darknesse kept, 60 +Love, that had now long time securely slept +In Venus lap, unarmed then and naked, +Gan reare his head, by Clotho being waked: + + +And taking to him wings of his own heat, +Kindled at first from heavens life-giving fyre, 65 +He gan to move out of his idle seat; +Weakly at first, but after with desyre +Lifted aloft, he gan to mount up hyre*, +And, like fresh eagle, made his hardy flight +Thro all that great wide wast, yet wanting light. 70 + [* _Hyre_, higher.] + + +Yet wanting light to guide his wandring way, +His own faire mother, for all creatures sake, +Did lend him light from her owne goodly ray; +Then through the world his way he gan to take, +The world, that was not till he did it make, 75 +Whose sundrie parts he from themselves did sever. +The which before had lyen confused ever. + + +The earth, the ayre, the water, and the fyre, +Then gan to raunge themselves in huge array, +And with contráry forces to conspyre 80 +Each against other by all meanes they may, +Threatning their owne confusion and decay: +Ayre hated earth, and water hated fyre, +Till Love relented their rebellious yre. + + +He then them tooke, and, tempering goodly well 85 +Their contrary dislikes with loved meanes, +Did place them all in order, and compell +To keepe themselves within their sundrie raines*, +Together linkt with adamantine chaines; +Yet so as that in every living wight 90 +They mix themselves, and shew their kindly might. + [* _Raines_, kingdoms.] + + +So ever since they firmely have remained, +And duly well observed his beheast; +Through which now all these things that are contained +Within this goodly cope, both most and least, 95 +Their being have, and daily are increast +Through secret sparks of his infused fyre, +Which in the barraine cold he doth inspyre. + + +Thereby they all do live, and moved are +To multiply the likenesse of their kynd, 100 +Whilest they seeke onely, without further care, +To quench the flame which they in burning fynd; +But man, that breathes a more immortall mynd, +Not for lusts sake, but for eternitie, +Seekes to enlarge his lasting progenie. 105 + + +For having yet in his deducted spright +Some sparks remaining of that heavenly fyre, +He is enlumind with that goodly light, +Unto like goodly semblant to aspyre; +Therefore in choice of love he doth desyre 110 +That seemes on earth most heavenly to embrace, +That same is Beautie, borne of heavenly race. + + +For sure, of all that in this mortall frame +Contained is, nought more divine doth seeme, +Or that resembleth more th’immortall flame 115 +Of heavenly light, than Beauties glorious beam. +What wonder then, if with such rage extreme +Frail men, whose eyes seek heavenly things to see, +At sight thereof so much enravisht bee? + + +Which well perceiving, that imperious boy 120 +Doth therewith tip his sharp empoisned darts, +Which glancing thro the eyes with* countenance coy +Rest not till they have pierst the trembling harts, +And kindled flame in all their inner parts, +Which suckes the blood, and drinketh up the lyfe, +125 +Of carefull wretches with consuming griefe. + [* Qu. from? WARTON.] + + +Thenceforth they playne, and make full piteous mone +Unto the author of their balefull bane: +The daies they waste, the nights they grieve and grone, +Their lives they loath, and heavens light disdaine; +130 +No light but that whose lampe doth yet remaine +Fresh burning in the image of their eye, +They deigne to see, and seeing it still dye. + + +The whylst thou, tyrant Love, doest laugh and scorne +At their complaints, making their paine thy play; +135 +Whylest they lye languishing like thrals forlorne, +The whyles thou doest triumph in their decay; +And otherwhyles, their dying to delay, +Thou doest emmarble the proud hart of her +Whose love before their life they doe prefer. 140 + + +So hast thou often done (ay me the more!) +To me thy vassall, whose yet bleeding hart +With thousand wounds thou mangled hast so sore, +That whole remaines scarse any little part; +Yet to augment the anguish of my smart, 145 +Thou hast enfrosen her disdainefull brest, +That no one drop of pitie there doth rest. + + +Why then do I this honor unto thee, +Thus to ennoble thy victorious name, +Sith thou doest shew no favour unto mee, 150 +Ne once move ruth in that rebellious dame, + + +Somewhat to slacke the rigour of my flame? +Certes small glory doest thou winne hereby, +To let her live thus free, and me to dy. + + +But if thou be indeede, as men thee call, 155 +The worlds great parent, the most kind preserver +Of living wights, the soveraine lord of all, +How falles it then that with thy furious fervour +Thou doest afflict as well the not-deserver, +As him that doeth thy lovely heasts despize, 160 +And on thy subiects most doth tyrannize? + + +Yet herein eke thy glory seemeth more, +By so hard handling those which best thee serve, +That, ere thou doest them unto grace restore, +Thou mayest well trie if they will ever swerve, 165 +And mayest them make it better to deserve, +And, having got it, may it more esteeme; +For things hard gotten men more dearely deeme. + + +So hard those heavenly beauties be enfyred, +As things divine least passions doe impresse; 170 +The more of stedfast mynds to be admyred, +The more they stayed be on stedfastnesse; +But baseborne minds such lamps regard the lesse, +Which at first blowing take not hastie fyre; +Such fancies feele no love, but loose desyre. 175 + + +For Love is lord of truth and loialtie, +Lifting himself out of the lowly dust +On golden plumes up to the purest skie, +Above the reach of loathly sinfull lust, +Whose base affect*, through cowardly distrust 180 +Of his weake wings, dare not to heaven fly, +But like a moldwarpe** in the earth doth ly. + [* _Affect_, affection, passion.] + [** _Moldwarpe_, mole.] + + +His dunghill thoughts, which do themselves enure +To dirtie drosse, no higher dare aspyre; +Ne can his feeble earthly eyes endure 185 +The flaming light of that celestiall fyre +Which kindleth love in generous desyre, +And makes him mount above the native might +Of heavie earth, up to the heavens hight. + + +Such is the powre of that sweet passion, 190 +That it all sordid basenesse doth expell, +And the refyned mynd doth newly fashion +Unto a fairer forme, which now doth dwell +In his high thought, that would it selfe excell; +Which he beholding still with constant sight, 195 +Admires the mirrour of so heavenly light. + + +Whose image printing in his deepest wit, +He thereon feeds his hungrie fantasy, +Still full, yet never satisfyde with it; +Like Tantale, that in store doth sterved ly, 200 +So doth he pine in most satiety; +For nought may quench his infinite desyre, +Once kindled through that first conceived fyre. + + +Thereon his mynd affixed wholly is, +Ne thinks on ought but how it to attaine; 205 +His care, his ioy, his hope, is all on this, +That seemes in it all blisses to containe, +In sight whereof all other blisse seemes vaine: +Thrice happie man, might he the same possesse, +He faines himselfe, and doth his fortune blesse. 210 + + +And though he do not win his wish to end, +Yet thus farre happie he himselfe doth weene, +That heavens such happie grace did to him lend +As thing on earth so heavenly to have seene, +His harts enshrined saint, his heavens queene, 215 +Fairer then fairest in his fayning eye, +Whose sole aspect he counts felicitye. + + +Then forth he casts in his unquiet thought, +What he may do her favour to obtaine; +What brave exploit, what perill hardly wrought, 220 +What puissant conquest, what adventurous paine, +May please her best, and grace unto him gaine; +He dreads no danger, nor misfortune feares, +His faith, his fortune, in his breast he beares. + + +Thou art his god, thou art his mightie guyde, 225 +Thou, being blind, letst him not see his feares, +But carriest him to that which he had eyde, +Through seas, through flames, through thousand swords and speares; * +Ne ought so strong that may his force withstand, +With which thou armest his resistlesse hand. 230 + [* The fifth verse of this stanza appears to have dropped out. C.] + + +Witnesse Leander in the Euxine waves, +And stout Aeneas in the Troiane fyre, +Achilles preassing through the Phrygian glaives*, +And Orpheus, daring to provoke the yre +Of damned fiends, to get his love retyre; 235 +For both through heaven and hell thou makest way, +To win them worship which to thee obay. + [* _Glaives_, swords.] + + +And if by all these perils and these paynes +He may but purchase lyking in her eye, +What heavens of ioy then to himselfe he faynes! 240 +Eftsoones he wypes quite out of memory +Whatever ill before he did aby*: +Had it beene death, yet would he die againe, +To live thus happie as her grace to gaine. + [* _Aby_, abide.] + + +Yet when he hath found favour to his will, 245 +He nathëmore can so contented rest, +But forceth further on, and striveth still +T’approch more neare, till in her inmost brest +He may embosomd bee and loved best; +And yet not best, but to be lov’d alone; 250 +For love cannot endure a paragone*. + [* _Paragone_, competitor.] + + +The fear whereof, O how doth it torment +His troubled mynd with more then hellish paine! +And to his fayning fansie represent +Sights never seene, and thousand shadowes vaine, 255 +To breake his sleepe and waste his ydle braine: +Thou that hast never lov’d canst not beleeve +Least part of th’evils which poore lovers greeve. + + +The gnawing envie, the hart-fretting feare, +The vaine surmizes, the distrustfull showes, 260 +The false reports that flying tales doe beare, +The doubts, the daungers, the delayes, the woes, +The fayned friends, the unassured foes, +With thousands more then any tongue can tell, +Doe make a lovers life a wretches hell. 265 + + +Yet is there one more cursed then they all, +That cancker-worme, that monster, Gelosie, +Which eates the heart and feedes upon the gall, +Turning all Loves delight to miserie, +Through feare of losing his felicitie. 270 +Ah, gods! that ever ye that monster placed +In gentle Love, that all his ioyes defaced! + + +By these, O Love! thou doest thy entrance make +Unto thy heaven, and doest the more endeere +Thy pleasures unto those which them partake, 275 +As after stormes, when clouds begin to cleare, +The sunne more bright and glorious doth appeare; +So thou thy folke, through paines of Purgatorie, +Dost beare unto thy blisse, and heavens glorie. + + +There thou them placest in a paradize 280 +Of all delight and ioyous happy rest, +Where they doe feede on nectar heavenly-wize, +With Hercules and Hebe, and the rest +Of Venus dearlings, through her bountie blest; +And lie like gods in yvory beds arayd, 285 +With rose and lillies over them displayd. + + +There with thy daughter Pleasure they doe play +Their hurtlesse sports, without rebuke or blame, +And in her snowy bosome boldly lay +Their quiet heads, devoyd of guilty shame, 290 +After full ioyance of their gentle game; +Then her they crowne their goddesse and their queene, +And decke with floures thy altars well beseene. + + +Ay me! deare Lord, that ever I might hope, +For all the paines and woes that I endure, 295 +To come at length unto the wished scope +Of my desire, or might myselfe assure +That happie port for ever to recure*! +Then would I thinke these paines no paines at all, +And all my woes to be but penance small. 300 + [* _Recure_, recover, gain.] + + +Then would I sing of thine immortal praise +An heavenly hymne such as the angels sing, +And thy triumphant name then would I raise +Bove all the gods, thee only honoring; +My guide, my god, my victor, and my king: 305 +Till then, drad Lord! vouchsafe to take of me +This simple song, thus fram’d in praise of thee. + +AN HYMNE + +IN HONOUR OF BEAUTIE. + + +Ah! whither, Love! wilt thou now carry mee? +What wontlesse fury dost thou now inspire +Into my feeble breast, too full of thee? +Whylest seeking to aslake thy raging fyre, +Thou in me kindlest much more great desyre, 5 +And up aloft above my strength doth rayse +The wondrous matter of my fire to praise. + + +That as I earst in praise of thine owne name, +So now in honour of thy mother deare +An honourable hymne I eke should frame, 10 +And, with the brightnesse of her beautie cleare, +The ravisht hearts of gazefull men might reare +To admiration of that heavenly light, +From whence proceeds such soule-enchanting might. + + +Therto do thou, great Goddesse! Queene of Beauty, +Mother of Love and of all worlds delight, 16 +Without whose soverayne grace and kindly dewty +Nothing on earth seems fayre to fleshly sight, +Doe thou vouchsafe with thy love-kindling light +T’illuminate my dim and dulled eyne, 20 +And beautifie this sacred hymne of thyne: + + +That both to thee, to whom I meane it most, +And eke to her whose faire immortall beame +Hath darted fyre into my feeble ghost, +That now it wasted is with woes extreame, 25 +It may so please, that she at length will streame +Some deaw of grace into my withered hart, +After long sorrow and consuming smart. + + +WHAT TIME THIS WORLDS GREAT WORKMAISTER did cast +To make al things such as we now behold, 30 +It seems that he before his eyes had plast +A goodly paterne, to whose perfect mould +He fashiond them as comely as he could, +That now so faire and seemely they appeare +As nought may be amended any wheare. 35 + + +That wondrous paterne, wheresoere it bee, +Whether in earth layd up in secret store, +Or else in heaven, that no man may it see +With sinfull eyes, for feare it do deflore, +Is perfect Beautie, which all men adore; 40 +Whose face and feature doth so much excell +All mortal sence, that none the same may tell. + + +Thereof as every earthly thing partakes +Or more or lesse, by influence divine, +So it more faire accordingly it makes, 45 +And the grosse matter of this earthly myne +Which closeth it thereafter doth refyne, +Doing away the drosse which dims the light +Of that faire beame which therein is empight*. + [* _Empight_, placed.] + + +For, through infusion of celestiall powre, 50 +The duller earth it quickneth with delight, +And life-full spirits privily doth powre +Through all the parts, that to the lookers sight +They seeme to please; that is thy soveraine might, +O Cyprian queene! which, flowing from the beame 55 +Of thy bright starre, thou into them doest streame. + + +That is the thing which giveth pleasant grace +To all things faire, that kindleth lively fyre; +Light of thy lampe; which, shyning in the face, +Thence to the soule darts amorous desyre, 60 +And robs the harts of those which it admyre; +Therewith thou pointest thy sons poysned arrow, +That wounds the life and wastes the inmost marrow. + + +How vainely then do ydle wits invent +That Beautie is nought else but mixture made 65 +Of colours faire, and goodly temp’rament +Of pure complexions, that shall quickly fade +And passe away, like to a sommers shade; +Or that it is but comely composition +Of parts well measurd, with meet disposition! 70 + + +Hath white and red in it such wondrous powre, +That it can pierce through th’eyes unto the hart, +And therein stirre such rage and restlesse stowre*, +As nought but death can stint his dolours smart? +Or can proportion of the outward part 75 +Move such affection in the inward mynd, +That it can rob both sense, and reason blynd? + [* _Stowre_, commotion.] + + +Why doe not then the blossomes of the field, +Which are arayd with much more orient hew, +And to the sense most daintie odours yield, 80 +Worke like impression in the lookers vew? +Or why doe not faire pictures like powre shew, +In which oft-times we Nature see of Art +Exceld, in perfect limming every part? + + +But ah! beleeve me there is more then so, 85 +That workes such wonders in the minds of men; +I, that have often prov’d, too well it know, +And who so list the like assayes to ken +Shall find by trial, and confesse it then, +That Beautie is not, as fond men misdeeme, 90 +An outward shew of things that onely seeme. + + +For that same goodly hew of white and red +With which the cheekes are sprinckled, shall decay, +And those sweete rosy leaves, so fairly spred +Upon the lips, shall fade and fall away 95 +To that they were, even to corrupted clay: +That golden wyre, those sparckling stars so bright, +Shall turne to dust, and lose their goodly light. + + +But that faire lampe, from whose celestiall ray +That light proceedes which kindleth lovers fire, 100 +Shall never be extinguisht nor decay; +But, when the vitall spirits doe espyre, +Unto her native planet shall retyre; +For it is heavenly borne, and cannot die, +Being a parcell of the purest skie. 105 + + +For when the soule, the which derived was, +At first, out of that great immortall Spright, +By whom all live to love, whilome did pas +Down from the top of purest heavens hight +To be embodied here, it then tooke light 110 +And lively spirits from that fayrest starre +Which lights the world forth from his firie carre. + + +Which powre retayning still, or more or lesse, +When she in fleshly seede is eft* enraced**, +Through every part she doth the same impresse, 115 +According as the heavens have her graced, +And frames her house, in which she will be placed, +Fit for her selfe, adorning it with spoyle +Of th’heavenly riches which she robd erewhyle. +[* _Eft_, afterwards.] +[** _Enraced_, implanted.] + + +Thereof it comes that these faire soules which have +The most resemblance of that heavenly light 121 +Frame to themselves most beautifull and brave +Their fleshly bowre, most fit for their delight, +And the grosse matter by a soveraine might +Temper so trim, that it may well be seene 125 +A pallace fit for such a virgin queene. + + +So every spirit, as it is most pure, +And hath in it the more of heavenly light, +So it the fairer bodie doth procure +To habit in, and it more fairely dight* 130 +With chearfull grace and amiable sight: +For of the soule the bodie forme doth take; +For soule is forme, and doth the bodie make. + [* _Dight_, adorn.] + + +Therefore, where-ever that thou doest behold +A comely corpse*, with beautie faire endewed, 135 +Know this for certaine, that the same doth hold +A beauteous soule with fair conditions thewed**, +Fit to receive the seede of vertue strewed; +For all that faire is, is by nature good; +That is a sign to know the gentle blood. 140 + [* _Corpse_, body.] + [** i.e. endowed with fair qualities.] + + +Yet oft it falles that many a gentle mynd +Dwels in deformed tabernacle drownd, +Either by chaunce, against the course of kynd*, +Or through unaptnesse in the substance fownd, +Which it assumed of some stubborne grownd, 145 +That will not yield unto her formes direction, +But is deform’d with some foule imperfection. + [* _Kynd_, nature.] + + +And oft it falles, (ay me, the more to rew!) +That goodly Beautie, albe heavenly borne, +Is foule abusd, and that celestiall hew, 150 +Which doth the world with her delight adorne, +Made but the bait of sinne, and sinners scorne, +Whilest every one doth seeke and sew to have it, +But every one doth seeke but to deprave it. + + +Yet nathëmore is that faire Beauties blame, 155 +But theirs that do abuse it unto ill: +Nothing so good, but that through guilty shame +May be corrupt*, and wrested unto will. +Nathelesse the soule is faire and beauteous still, +However fleshes fault it filthy make; 160 +For things immortall no corruption take. + [* _Corrupt_, corrupted.] + + +But ye, faire Dames! the worlds deare ornaments, +And lively images of heavens light, +Let not your beames with such disparagements +Be dimd, and your bright glorie darkned quight; l65 +But mindfull still of your first countries sight, +Doe still preserve your first informed grace, +Whose shadow yet shynes in your beauteous face. + + +Loath that foule blot, that hellish fiërbrand, +Disloiall lust, fair Beauties foulest blame, 170 +That base affections, which your eares would bland*, +Commend to you by loves abused name, +But is indeede the bondslave of defame; +Which will the garland of your glorie marre, +And quench the light of your brightshyning starre. +175 + [* _Bland_, blandish.] + + +But gentle Love, that loiall is and trew, +Wil more illumine your resplendent ray, +And add more brightnesse to your goodly hew +From light of his pure fire; which, by like way +Kindled of yours, your likenesse doth display; 180 +Like as two mirrours, by opposd reflection, +Doe both expresse the faces first impression. + + +Therefore, to make your beautie more appeare, +It you behoves to love, and forth to lay +That heavenly riches which in you ye beare, 185 +That men the more admyre their fountaine may; +For else what booteth that celestiall ray, +If it in darknesse be enshrined ever, +That it of loving eyes be vewed never? + + +But, in your choice of loves, this well advize, 190 +That likest to your selves ye them select, +The which your forms first sourse may sympathize, +And with like beauties parts be inly deckt; +For if you loosely love without respect, +It is not love, but a discordant warre, 195 +Whose unlike parts amongst themselves do iarre. + + +For love is a celestiall harmonie +Of likely* harts composd of** starres concent, +Which ioyne together in sweete sympathie, +To work each others ioy and true content, 200 +Which they have harbourd since their first descent +Out of their heavenly bowres, where they did see +And know ech other here belov’d to bee. + [* _Likely_, similar.] + [** _Composd of_, combined by.] + + +Then wrong it were that any other twaine +Should in Loves gentle band combyned bee, 205 +But those whom Heaven did at first ordaine, +And made out of one mould the more t’agree; +For all that like the beautie which they see +Straight do not love; for Love is not so light +As straight to burne at first beholders sight. 210 + + +But they which love indeede looke otherwise, +With pure regard and spotlesse true intent, +Drawing out of the obiect of their eyes +A more refyned form, which they present +Unto their mind, voide of all blemishment; 215 +Which it reducing to her first perfection, +Beholdeth free from fleshes frayle infection. + + +And then conforming it unto the light +Which in it selfe it hath remaining still, +Of that first sunne, yet sparckling in his sight, +220 +Thereof he fashions in his higher skill +An heavenly beautie to his fancies will; +And it embracing in his mind entyre, +The mirrour of his owne thought doth admyre. + + +Which seeing now so inly faire to be, 225 +As outward it appeareth to the eye, +And with his spirits proportion to agree, +He thereon fixeth all his fantasie, +And fully setteth his felicitie; +Counting it fairer then it is indeede, 230 +And yet indeede her fairnesse doth exeede. + + +For lovers eyes more sharply sighted bee +Then other mens, and in deare loves delight +See more then any other eyes can see, +Through mutuall receipt of beamës bright, 235 +Which carrie privie message to the spright, +And to their eyes that inmost faire display, +As plaine as light discovers dawning day. + + +Therein they see, through amorous eye-glaunces, +Armies of Loves still flying too and fro, 240 +Which dart at them their litle fierie launces; +Whom having wounded, back againe they go, +Carrying compassion to their lovely foe; +Who, seeing her faire eyes so sharp effect, +Cures all their sorrowes with one sweete aspect. 245 + + +In which how many wonders doe they reede +To their conceipt, that others never see! +Now of her smiles, with which their soules they feede, +Like gods with nectar in their bankets free; +Now of her lookes, which like to cordials bee; 250 +But when her words embássade* forth she sends, +Lord, how sweete musicke that unto them lends! + [* _Embássade_, embassy.] + + +Sometimes upon her forhead they behold +A thousand graces masking in delight; +Sometimes within her eye-lids they unfold 255 +Ten thousand sweet belgards*, which to their sight +Doe seeme like twinckling starres in frostie night; +But on her lips, like rosy buds in May, +So many millions of chaste pleasures play. + [* _Belgards_, fair looks.] + + +All those, O Cytherea! and thousands more, 260 +Thy handmaides be, which do on thee attend, +To decke thy beautie with their dainties store, +That may it more to mortall eyes commend, +And make it more admyr’d of foe and frend; +That in men’s harts thou mayst thy throne enstall, 265 +And spred thy lovely kingdome over all. + + +Then Iö, tryumph! O great Beauties Queene, +Advance the banner of thy conquest hie, +That all this world, the which thy vassels beene, +May draw to thee, and with dew fëaltie 270 +Adore the powre of thy great maiestie, +Singing this hymne in honour of thy name, +Compyld by me, which thy poor liegeman am! + + +In lieu whereof graunt, O great soveraine! +That she whose conquering beauty doth captíve 275 +My trembling hart in her eternall chaine, +One drop of grace at length will to me give, +That I her bounden thrall by her may live, +And this same life, which first fro me she reaved, +May owe to her, of whom I it receaved. 280 + + +And you, faire Venus dearling, my dear dread! +Fresh flowre of grace, great goddesse of my life, +When your faire eyes these fearfull lines shall read, +Deigne to let fall one drop of dew reliefe, +That may recure my harts long pyning griefe, 285 +And shew what wondrous powre your beauty hath, +That can restore a damned wight from death. + +AN HYMNE + +OF HEAVENLY LOVE*. + + +[* See the sixth canto of the third book of the Faerie Queene, +especially the second and the thirty-second stanzas; which, with his +Hymnes of Heavenly Love and Heavenly Beauty, are evident proofs of +Spenser’s attachment to the Platonic school. WARTON.] + + +Love, lift me up upon thy golden wings +From this base world unto thy heavens hight, +Where I may see those admirable things +Which there thou workest by thy soveraine might, +Farre above feeble reach of earthly sight, 5 +That I thereof an heavenly hymne may sing +Unto the God of Love, high heavens king. + + +Many lewd layes (ah! woe is me the more!) +In praise of that mad fit which fooles call Love, +I have in th’heat of youth made heretofore, 10 +That in light wits did loose affection move; +But all those follies now I do reprove, +And turned have the tenor of my string, +The heavenly prayses of true Love to sing. + + +And ye that wont with greedy vaine desire 15 +To reade my fault, and, wondring at my flame, +To warme your selves at my wide sparckling fire, +Sith now that heat is quenched, quench my blame, +And in her ashes shrowd my dying shame; +For who my passed follies now pursewes, 20 +Beginnes his owne, and my old fault renewes. + + +BEFORE THIS WORLDS GREAT FRAME, in which al things +Are now containd, found any being-place, +Ere flitting Time could wag* his eyas** wings +About that mightie bound which doth embrace 25 +The rolling spheres, and parts their houres by space, +That high eternall Powre, which now doth move +In all these things, mov’d in it selfe by love. + [* _Wag_, move.] + [** _Eyas_, unfledged.] + + +It lovd it selfe, because it selfe was faire; +(For fair is lov’d;) and of it self begot 30 +Like to it selfe his eldest Sonne and Heire, +Eternall, pure, and voide of sinfull blot, +The firstling of his ioy, in whom no iot +Of loves dislike or pride was to be found, +Whom he therefore with equall honour crownd. 35 + + +With him he raignd, before all time prescribed, +In endlesse glorie and immortall might, +Together with that Third from them derived, +Most wise, most holy, most almightie Spright! 39 +Whose kingdomes throne no thoughts of earthly wight +Can comprehend, much lesse my trembling verse +With equall words can hope it to reherse. + + +Yet, O most blessed Spirit! pure lampe of light, +Eternall spring of grace and wisedom trew, +Vouchsafe to shed into my barren spright 45 +Some little drop of thy celestiall dew, +That may my rymes with sweet infuse* embrew, +And give me words equall unto my thought, +To tell the marveiles by thy mercie wrought. + [* _Infuse_, infusion] + + +Yet being pregnant still with powrefull grace, 50 +And full of fruitfull Love, that loves to get +Things like himselfe and to enlarge his race, +His second brood, though not of powre so great, +Yet full of beautie, next he did beget, +An infinite increase of angels bright, 55 +All glistring glorious in their Makers light. + + +To them the heavens illimitable hight +(Not this round heaven which we from hence behold, +Adornd with thousand lamps of burning light, +And with ten thousand gemmes of shyning gold) 60 +He gave as their inheritance to hold, +That they might serve him in eternall blis, +And be partakers of those ioyes of his. + + +There they in their trinall triplicities +About him wait, and on his will depend, 65 +Either with nimble wings to cut the skies, +When he them on his messages doth send, +Or on his owne dread presence to attend, +Where they behold the glorie of his light, +And caroll hymnes of love both day and night. 70 + [Ver. 64.—_Trinall triplicities_. See the Faerie Queene, Book I. + Canto XII. 39. H.] + + +Both day and night is unto them all one; +For he his beames doth unto them extend, +That darknesse there appeareth never none; +Ne hath their day, ne hath their blisse, an end, +But there their termelesse time in pleasure spend; +75 +Ne ever should their happinesse decay, +Had not they dar’d their Lord to disobay. + + +But pride, impatient of long resting peace, +Did puffe them up with greedy bold ambition, +That they gan cast their state how to increase 80 +Above the fortune of their first condition, +And sit in Gods own seat without commission: +The brightest angel, even the Child of Light*, +Drew millions more against their God to fight. + [* I.e. Lucifer.] + + +Th’Almighty, seeing their so bold assay, 85 +Kindled the flame of his consuming yre, +And with his onely breath them blew away +From heavens hight, to which they did aspyre, +To deepest hell, and lake of damned fyre, +Where they in darknesse and dread horror dwell, 90 +Hating the happie light from which they fell. + + +So that next off-spring of the Makers love, +Next to himselfe in glorious degree, +Degendering* to hate, fell from above +Through pride; (for pride and love may ill agree;) +95 +And now of sinne to all ensample bee: +How then can sinfull flesh it selfe assure, +Sith purest angels fell to be impure? + [* _Degendering_, degenerating.] + + +But that Eternall Fount of love and grace, +Still flowing forth his goodnesse unto all, 100 +Now seeing left a waste and emptie place +In his wyde pallace through those angels fall, +Cast to supply the same, and to enstall +A new unknowen colony therein, +Whose root from earths base groundworke should begin. + 105 + + +Therefore of clay, base, vile, and next to nought, +Yet form’d by wondrous skill, and by his might +According to an heavenly patterne wrought, +Which he had fashiond in his wise foresight, +He man did make, and breathd a living spright 110 +Into his face, most beautifull and fayre, +Endewd with wisedomes riches, heavenly, rare. + + +Such he him made, that he resemble might +Himselfe, as mortall thing immortall could; +Him to be lord of every living wight 115 +He made by love out of his owne like mould, +In whom he might his mightie selfe behould; +For Love doth love the thing belov’d to see, +That like it selfe in lovely shape may bee. + + +But man, forgetfull of his Makers grace 120 +No lesse than angels, whom he did ensew, +Fell from the hope of promist heavenly place, +Into the mouth of Death, to sinners dew, +And all his off-spring into thraldome threw, +Where they for ever should in bonds remaine 125 +Of never-dead, yet ever-dying paine; + + +Till that great Lord of Love, which him at first +Made of meere love, and after liked well, +Seeing him lie like creature long accurst +In that deep horor of despeyred hell, 130 +Him, wretch, in doole* would let no lenger dwell, +But cast** out of that bondage to redeeme, +And pay the price, all@ were his debt extreeme. + [* _Doole_, pain.] + [** _Cast_, devised.] + [@ _All_, although.] + + +Out of the bosome of eternall blisse, +In which he reigned with his glorious Syre, 135 +He downe descended, like a most demisse* +And abiect thrall, in fleshes fraile attyre, +That he for him might pay sinnes deadly hyre, +And him restore unto that happie state +In which he stood before his haplesse fate. 140 + [* _Demisse_, humble.] + + +In flesh at first the guilt committed was, +Therefore in flesh it must be satisfyde; +Nor spirit, nor angel, though they man surpas, +Could make amends to God for mans misguyde, +But onely man himselfe, who selfe did slyde: 145 +So, taking flesh of sacred virgins wombe, +For mans deare sake he did a man become. + + +And that most blessed bodie, which was borne +Without all blemish or reprochfull blame, +He freely gave to be both rent and torne 150 +Of cruell hands, who with despightfull shame +Revyling him, (that them most vile became,) +At length him nayled on a gallow-tree, +And slew the iust by most uniust decree. + + +O huge and most unspeakeable impression 155 +Of Loves deep wound, that pierst the piteous hart +Of that deare Lord with so entyre affection, +And, sharply launcing every inner part, +Dolours of death into his soule did dart, +Doing him die that never it deserved, 160 +To free his foes, that from his heast* had swerved! + [* _Heast_, command.] + + +What hart can feel least touch of so sore launch, +Or thought can think the depth of so deare wound? +Whose bleeding sourse their streames yet never staunch, +But stil do flow, and freshly still redownd*, 165 +To heale the sores of sinfull soules unsound, +And clense the guilt of that infected cryme, +Which was enrooted in all fleshly slyme. + [* _Redownd_, overflow.] + + +O blessed Well of Love! O Floure of Grace! +O glorious Morning-Starre! O Lampe of Light! 170 +Most lively image of thy Fathers face, +Eternal King of Glorie, Lord of Might, +Meeke Lambe of God, before all worlds behight*, +How can we thee requite for all this good? +Or what can prize** that thy most precious blood? +175 + [* _Behight_, named.] + [** _Prize_, price.] + + +Yet nought thou ask’st in lieu of all this love +But love of us, for guerdon of thy paine: +Ay me! what can us lesse than that behove? +Had he required life for us againe, +Had it beene wrong to ask his owne with gaine? 180 +He gave us life, he it restored lost; +Then life were least, that us so little cost. + + +But he our life hath left unto us free, +Free that was thrall, and blessed that was band*; +Ne ought demaunds but that we loving bee, 185 +As he himselfe hath lov’d us afore-hand, +And bound therto with an eternall band; +Him first to love that us so dearely bought, +And next our brethren, to his image wrought. + [* _Band_, cursed.] + + +Him first to love great right and reason is, 190 +Who first to us our life and being gave, +And after, when we fared* had amisse, +Us wretches from the second death did save; +And last, the food of life, which now we have, +Even he himselfe, in his dear sacrament, 195 +To feede our hungry soules, unto us lent. + [* _Fared_, gone.] + + +Then next, to love our brethren, that were made +Of that selfe* mould and that self Maker’s hand +That we, and to the same againe shall fade, +Where they shall have like heritage of land, 200 +However here on higher steps we stand, +Which also were with selfe-same price redeemed +That we, however of us light esteemed. +[* _Selfe_, same.] + + +And were they not, yet since that loving Lord +Commaunded us to love them for his sake, 205 +Even for his sake, and for his sacred word +Which in his last bequest he to us spake, +We should them love, and with their needs partake; +Knowing that whatsoere to them we give +We give to him by whom we all doe live. 210 + + +Such mercy he by his most holy reede* +Unto us taught, and, to approve it trew, +Ensampled it by his most righteous deede, +Shewing us mercie, miserable crew! +That we the like should to the wretches shew, 215 +And love our brethren; thereby to approve +How much himselfe that loved us we love. +[* _Reede_, precept.] + + +Then rouze thy selfe, O Earth! out of thy soyle*, +In which thou wallowest like to filthy swyne, +And doest thy mynd in durty pleasures moyle**, 220 +Unmindfull of that dearest Lord of thyne; +Lift up to him thy heavie clouded eyne, +That thou this soveraine bountie mayst behold, +And read, through love, his mercies manifold. + [* _Soyle_, mire.] + [** _Moyle_, defile.] + + +Beginne from first, where he encradled was 225 +In simple cratch*, wrapt in a wad of hay, +Betweene the toylfull oxe and humble asse, +And in what rags, and in how base aray, +The glory of our heavenly riches lay, +When him the silly shepheards came to see, 230 +Whom greatest princes sought on lowest knee. + [* _Cratch_, manger.] + + +From thence reade on the storie of his life, +His humble carriage, his unfaulty wayes, +His cancred foes, his fights, his toyle, his strife, +His paines, his povertie, his sharpe assayes, 235 +Through which he past his miserable dayes, +Offending none, and doing good to all, +Yet being malist* both by great and small. + [* _Malist_, regarded with ill-will.] + + +And look at last, how of most wretched wights +He taken was, betrayd, and false accused; 240 +How with most scornfull taunts and fell despights, +He was revyld, disgrast, and foule abused; +How scourgd, how crownd, how buffeted, how brused; +And, lastly, how twixt robbers crucifyde, +With bitter wounds through hands, through feet, and syde! + 245 + + +Then let thy flinty hart, that feeles no paine, +Empierced be with pittifull remorse, +And let thy bowels bleede in every vaine, +At sight of his most sacred heavenly corse, +So torne and mangled with malicious forse; 250 +And let thy soule, whose sins his sorrows wrought, +Melt into teares, and grone in grieved thought. + + +With sence whereof whilest so thy softened spirit +Is inly toucht, and humbled with meeke zeale +Through meditation of his endlesse merit, 255 +Lift up thy mind to th’author of thy weale, +And to his soveraine mercie doe appeale; +Learne him to love that loved thee so deare, +And in thy brest his blessed image beare. + + +With all thy hart, with all thy soule and mind, 260 +Thou must him love, and his beheasts embrace; +All other loves, with which the world doth blind +Weake fancies, and stirre up affections base, +Thou must renounce and utterly displace, +And give thy self unto him full and free, 265 +That full and freely gave himselfe to thee. + + +Then shalt thou feele thy spirit so possest, +And ravisht with devouring great desire +Of his dear selfe, that shall thy feeble brest +Inflame with love, and set thee all on fire 270 +With burning zeale, through every part entire*, +That in no earthly thing thou shalt delight, +But in his sweet and amiable sight. + [* _Entire_, inward.] + + +Thenceforth all worlds desire will in thee dye, +And all earthes glorie, on which men do gaze, 275 +Seeme durt and drosse in thy pure-sighted eye, +Compar’d to that celestiall beauties blaze, +Whose glorious beames all fleshly sense doth daze +With admiration of their passing light, +Blinding the eyes, and lumining the spright. 280 + + +Then shall thy ravisht soul inspired bee +With heavenly thoughts, farre above humane skil, +And thy bright radiant eyes shall plainely see +Th’idee of his pure glorie present still +Before thy face, that all thy spirits shall fill 285 +With sweete enragement of celestiall love, +Kindled through sight of those faire things above. + +AN HYMNE + +OF HEAVENLY BEAUTIE. + + +Rapt with the rage of mine own ravisht thought, +Through contemplation of those goodly sights +And glorious images in heaven wrought, +Whose wondrous beauty, breathing sweet delights, +Do kindle love in high conceipted sprights, 5 +I faine* to tell the things that I behold, +But feele my wits to faile and tongue to fold. + [* _Faine_, long.] + + +Vouchsafe then, O Thou most Almightie Spright! +From whom all guifts of wit and knowledge flow, +To shed into my breast some sparkling light 10 +Of thine eternall truth, that I may show +Some little beames to mortall eyes below +Of that immortall Beautie there with Thee, +Which in my weake distraughted mynd I see; + + +That with the glorie of so goodly sight 15 +The hearts of men, which fondly here admyre +Faire seeming shewes, and feed on vaine delight, +Transported with celestiall desyre +Of those faire formes, may lift themselves up hyer, +And learne to love, with zealous humble dewty, 20 +Th’Eternall Fountaine of that heavenly Beauty. + + +Beginning then below, with th’easie vew +Of this base world, subiect to fleshly eye, +From thence to mount aloft, by order dew, +To contemplation of th’immortall sky; 25 +Of the soare faulcon* so I learne to flye. +That flags a while her fluttering wings beneath, +Till she her selfe for stronger flight can breath. + [* _Soare faulcon_, a young falcon; a hawk that has not shed its + first + feathers, which are _sorrel_.] + + +Then looke, who list thy gazefull eyes to feed +With sight of that is faire, looke on the frame 30 +Of this wyde universe, and therein reed +The endlesse kinds of creatures which by name +Thou canst not count, much less their natures aime; +All which are made with wondrous wise respect, +And all with admirable beautie deckt. 35 + + +First, th’Earth, on adamantine pillers founded +Amid the Sea, engirt with brasen bands; +Then th’Aire, still flitting, but yet firmely bounded +On everie side with pyles of flaming brands, +Never consum’d, nor quencht with mortall hands; 40 +And last, that mightie shining cristall wall, +Wherewith he hath encompassed this all. + + +By view whereof it plainly may appeare, +That still as every thing doth upward tend +And further is from earth, so still more cleare 45 +And faire it growes, till to his perfect end +Of purest Beautie it at last ascend; +Ayre more then water, fire much more then ayre, +And heaven then fire, appeares more pure and fayre. + + +Looke thou no further, but affixe thine eye 50 +On that bright shynie round still moving masse, +The house of blessed God, which men call Skye, +All sowd with glistring stars more thicke then grasse, +Whereof each other doth in brightnesse passe, +But those two most, which, ruling night and day, 55 +As king and queene the heavens empire sway; + + +And tell me then, what hast thou ever seene +That to their beautie may compared bee? +Or can the sight that is most sharpe and keene +Endure their captains flaming head to see? 60 +How much lesse those, much higher in degree, +And so much fairer, and much more then these, +As these are fairer then the land and seas? + + +For farre above these heavens which here we see, +Be others farre exceeding these in light, 65 +Not bounded, not corrupt, as these same bee, +But infinite in largenesse and in hight, +Unmoving, uncorrupt, and spotlesse bright, +That need no sunne t’illuminate their spheres, +But their owne native light farre passing theirs. 70 + + +And as these heavens still by degrees arize, +Until they come to their first movers* bound, +That in his mightie compasse doth comprize +And carrie all the rest with him around, +So those likewise doe by degrees redound**, 75 +And rise more faire, till they at last arive +To the most faire, whereto they all do strive. + [* I.e. the _primum mobile_.] + [** I.e. exceed the one the other.] + + +Faire is the heaven where happy soules have place, +In full enioyment of felicitie, +Whence they doe still behold the glorious face 80 +Of the Divine Eternall Maiestie; +More faire is that where those Idees on hie +Enraunged be, which Plato so admyred, +And pure Intelligences from God inspyred. + + +Yet fairer is that heaven in which do raine 85 +The soveraigne Powres and mightie Potentates, +Which in their high protections doe containe +All mortall princes and imperiall states; +And fayrer yet whereas the royall Seates +And heavenly Dominations are set, 90 +From whom all earthly governance is fet*. + [* _Fet_, fetched, derived.] + + +Yet farre more faire be those bright Cherubins, +Which all with golden wings are overdight, +And those eternall burning Seraphins, +Which from their faces dart out fierie light; 95 +Yet fairer then they both, and much more bright, +Be th’Angels and Archangels, which attend +On Gods owne person, without rest or end. + + +These thus in faire each other farre excelling, +As to the Highest they approach more near, 100 +Yet is that Highest farre beyond all telling, +Fairer then all the rest which there appeare, +Though all their beauties ioyn’d together were; +How then can mortall tongue hope to expresse +The image of such endlesse perfectnesse? 105 + + +Cease then, my tongue! and lend unto my mynd +Leave to bethinke how great that Beautie is, +Whose utmost* parts so beautifull I fynd; +How much more those essentiall parts of His, +His truth, his love, his wisedome, and his blis, 110 +His grace, his doome**, his mercy, and his might, +By which he lends us of himselfe a sight! +[* _Utmost_, outmost.] +[** _Doome_, judgment.] + + +Those unto all he daily doth display, +And shew himselfe in th’image of his grace, +As in a looking-glasse, through which he may 115 +Be seene of all his creatures vile and base, +That are unable else to see his face; +His glorious face! which glistereth else so bright, +That th’angels selves can not endure his sight. + + +But we, fraile wights! whose sight cannot sustaine +120 +The suns bright beames when he on us doth shyne, +But* that their points rebutted** backe againe +Are duld, how can we see with feeble eyne +The glorie of that Maiestie Divine, +In sight of whom both sun and moone are darke, 125 +Compared to his least resplendent sparke? +[* _But_, unless.] +[** _Rebutted_, reflected.] + + +The meanes, therefore, which unto us is lent +Him to behold, is on his workes to looke. +Which he hath made in beauty excellent, +And in the same, as in a brasen booke, 130 +To read enregistred in every nooke +His goodnesse, which his beautie doth declare; +For all thats good is beautifull and faire. + + +Thence gathering plumes of perfect speculation +To impe* the wings of thy high flying mynd, 135 +Mount up aloft through heavenly contemplation +From this darke world, whose damps the soule do blynd, +And, like the native brood of eagles kynd, +On that bright Sunne of Glorie fixe thine eyes, +Clear’d from grosse mists of fraile infirmities. 140 + [* _Impe_, mend, strengthen.] + + +Humbled with feare and awfull reverence, +Before the footestoole of his Maiestie +Throw thy selfe downe, with trembling innocence, +Ne dare looke up with córruptible eye +On the dred face of that great Deity, 145 +For feare lest, if he chaunce to look on thee, +Thou turne to nought, and quite confounded be. + + +But lowly fall before his mercie seate, +Close covered with the Lambes integrity +From the iust wrath of His avengefull threate 150 +That sits upon the righteous throne on hy; +His throne is built upon Eternity, +More firme and durable then steele or brasse, +Or the hard diamond, which them both doth passe. + + +His scepter is the rod of Righteousnesse, 155 +With which he bruseth all his foes to dust, +And the great Dragon strongly doth represse +Under the rigour of his iudgment iust; +His seate is Truth, to which the faithfull trust, +From whence proceed her beames so pure and bright, +160 +That all about him sheddeth glorious light: + + +Light farre exceeding that bright blazing sparke +Which darted is from Titans flaming head, +That with his beames enlumineth the darke +And dampish air, wherby al things are red*; 165 +Whose nature yet so much is marvelled +Of mortall wits, that it doth much amaze +The greatest wisards** which thereon do gaze. + [* _Red_, perceived.] + [** _Wisards_, wise men, _savants_.] + + +But that immortall light which there doth shine +Is many thousand times more bright, more cleare, 170 +More excellent, more glorious, more divine; +Through which to God all mortall actions here, +And even the thoughts of men, do plaine appeare; +For from th’Eternall Truth it doth proceed, +Through heavenly vertue which her beames doe breed. +175 + + +With the great glorie of that wondrous light +His throne is all encompassed around, +And hid in his owne brightnesse from the sight +Of all that looke thereon with eyes unsound; +And underneath his feet are to be found 180 +Thunder, and lightning, and tempestuous fyre, +The instruments of his avenging yre. + + +There in his bosome Sapience doth sit, +The soveraine dearling of the Deity, +Clad like a queene in royall robes, most fit 185 +For so great powre and peerelesse maiesty, +And all with gemmes and iewels gorgeously +Adornd, that brighter then the starres appeare, +And make her native brightnes seem more cleare. + + +And on her head a crown of purest gold 190 +Is set, in signe of highest soverainty; +And in her hand a scepter she doth hold, +With which she rules the house of God on hy, +And menageth the ever-moving sky, +And in the same these lower creatures all 195 +Subiected to her powre imperiall. + + +Both heaven and earth obey unto her will, +And all the creatures which they both containe; +For of her fulnesse, which the world doth fill, +They all partake, and do in state remaine 200 +As their great Maker did at first ordaine, +Through observation of her high beheast, +By which they first were made, and still increast. + + +The fairnesse of her face no tongue can tell; +For she the daughters of all wemens race, 205 +And angels eke, in beautie doth excell, +Sparkled on her from Gods owne glorious face, +And more increast by her owne goodly grace, +That it doth farre exceed all humane thought, +Ne can on earth compared be to ought. 210 + + +Ne could that painter (had he lived yet) +Which pictured Venus with so curious quill +That all posteritie admyred it, +Have purtray’d this, for all his maistring* skill; +Ne she her selfe, had she remained still, 215 +And were as faire as fabling wits do fayne, +Could once come neare this Beauty soverayne. + [* _Maistring_, superior.] + + +But had those wits, the wonders of their dayes, +Or that sweete Teian poet*, which did spend +His plenteous vaine in setting forth her praise, 220 +Seen but a glims of this which I pretend**, +How wondrously would he her face commend, +Above that idole of his fayning thought, +That all the world should with his rimes be fraught! +[* I.e. Anacreon.] +[** _Pretend_, set forth, (or, simply) intend.] + + +How then dare I, the novice of his art, 225 +Presume to picture so divine a wight, +Or hope t’expresse her least perfections part, +Whose beautie filles the heavens with her light, +And darkes the earth with shadow of her sight? +Ah, gentle Muse! thou art too weake and faint 230 +The pourtraict of so heavenly hew to paint. + + +Let angels, which her goodly face behold, +And see at will, her soveraigne praises sing, +And those most sacred mysteries unfold +Of that faire love of mightie Heavens King; 235 +Enough is me t’admyre so heavenly thing, +And being thus with her huge love possest, +In th’only wonder of her selfe to rest. + + +But whoso may, thrise happie man him hold +Of all on earth, whom God so much doth grace, 240 +And lets his owne Beloved to behold; +For in the view of her celestiall face +All ioy, all blisse, all happinesse, have place; +Ne ought on earth can want unto the wight +Who of her selfe can win the wishfull sight. 245 + + +For she out of her secret threasury +Plentie of riches forth on him will powre, +Even heavenly riches, which there hidden ly +Within the closet of her chastest bowre, +Th’eternall portion of her precious dowre, 250 +Which Mighty God hath given to her free, +And to all those which thereof worthy bee. + + +None thereof worthy be, but those whom shee +Vouchsafeth to her presence to receave, +And letteth them her lovely face to see, 255 +Wherof such wondrous pleasures they conceave, +And sweete contentment, that it doth bereave +Their soul of sense, through infinite delight, +And them transport from flesh into the spright. + + +In which they see such admirable things, 260 +As carries them into an extasy; +And heare such heavenly notes and carolings +Of Gods high praise, that filles the brasen sky; +And feele such ioy and pleasure inwardly, +That maketh them all worldly cares forget, 265 +And onely thinke on that before them set. + + +Ne from thenceforth doth any fleshly sense, +Or idle thought of earthly things, remaine; +But all that earst seemd sweet seemes now offence, +And all that pleased earst now seemes to paine: 270 +Their ioy, their comfort, their desire, their game, +Is fixed all on that which now they see; +All other sights but fayned shadowes bee. + + +And that faire lampe which useth to enflame +The hearts of men with selfe-consuming fyre, 275 +Thenceforth seemes fowle, and full of sinfull blame +And all that pompe to which proud minds aspyre +By name of Honor, and so much desyre, +Seemes to them basenesse, and all riches drosse, +And all mirth sadnesse, and all lucre losse. 280 + + +So full their eyes are of that glorious sight, +And senses fraught with such satietie. +That in nought else on earth they can delight, +But in th’aspect of that felicitie +Which they have written in theyr inward ey; 285 +On which they feed, and in theyr fastened mynd +All happie ioy and full contentment fynd. + + +Ah, then, my hungry soule! which long hast fed +On idle fancies of thy foolish thought, +And, with false Beauties flattring bait misled, 290 +Hast after vaine deceiptfull shadowes sought, +Which all are fled, and now have left thee nought +But late repentance, through thy follies prief, +Ah! ceasse to gaze on matter of thy grief: + + +And looke at last up to that Soveraine Light, 295 +From whose pure beams al perfect Beauty springs, +That kindleth love in every godly spright, +Even the love of God; which loathing brings +Of this vile world and these gay-seeming things; +With whose sweet pleasures being so possest, 300 +Thy straying thoughts henceforth for ever rest. + + + + +EPIGRAMS AND SONNETS. + +EPIGRAMS. + +I.* + +[* In the folio of 1611, these four short pieces are appended to the +Sonnets. The second and third are translated from Marot’s Epigrams, +Liv. III. No. 5, _De Diane_, and No. 24, _De Cupido et de sa Dame_. C.] + + +In youth, before I waxed old, +The blynd boy, Venus baby, +For want of cunning, made me bold +In bitter hyve to grope for honny: + But when he saw me stung and cry, + He tooke his wings and away did fly. + +II. + +As Diane hunted on a day, +She chaunst to come where Cupid lay, + His quiver by his head: +One of his shafts she stole away, +And one of hers did close convay, + Into the others stead: +With that Love wounded my Loves hart, +But Diane, beasts with Cupids dart. + +III. + +I saw, in secret to my dame +How little Cupid humbly came, + And said to her, “All hayle, my mother!” +But when he saw me laugh, for shame +His face with bashfull blood did flame, + Not knowing Venus from the other. +“Then, never blush, Cupid,” quoth I, +“For many have err’d in this beauty.” + +IV. + +Upon a day, as Love lay sweetly slumbring + All in his mothers lap, +A gentle Bee, with his loud trumpet murm’ring, + About him flew by hap. +Whereof when he was wakened with the noyse, + And saw the beast so small, +“Whats this,” quoth he, “that gives so great a voyce, + That wakens men withall?” + In angry wize he flies about, + And threatens all with corage stout. 10 + + +To whom his mother, closely* smiling, sayd, + ’Twixt earnest and ’twixt game: +“See! thou thy selfe likewise art lyttle made, + If thou regard the same. +And yet thou suffrest neyther gods in sky, 15 + Nor men in earth, to rest: +But when thou art disposed cruelly, + Theyr sleepe thou doost molest. + Then eyther change thy cruelty, + Or give lyke leave unto the fly.” 20 +[* _Closely_, secretly.] + + +Nathelesse, the cruell boy, not so content, + Would needs the fly pursue, +And in his hand, with heedlesse hardiment, + Him caught for to subdue. +But when on it he hasty hand did lay, 25 + The Bee him stung therefore. +“Now out, alas,” he cryde, “and welaway! + I wounded am full sore. + The fly, that I so much did scorne, + Hath hurt me with his little horne.” 30 + + +Unto his mother straight he weeping came, + And of his griefe complayned; +Who could not chuse but laugh at his fond game, + Though sad to see him pained. +“Think now,” quoth she, “my son, how great the smart +35 + Of those whom thou dost wound: +Full many thou hast pricked to the hart, + That pitty never found. + Therefore, henceforth some pitty take, + When thou doest spoyle of lovers make.” 40 + + +She tooke him streight full pitiously lamenting, +She wrapt him softly, all the while repenting + That he the fly did mock. +She drest his wound, and it embaulmed well 45 + With salve of soveraigne might; +And then she bath’d him in a dainty well, + The well of deare delight. + Who would not oft be stung as this, + To be so bath’d in Venus blis? 50 + + +The wanton boy was shortly wel recured + Of that his malady; +But he soone after fresh again enured* + His former cruelty. +And since that time he wounded hath my selfe 55 + With his sharpe dart of love, +And now forgets the cruell carelesse elfe + His mothers heast** to prove. + So now I languish, till he please + My pining anguish to appease. 60 +[* _Enured_, practised.] +[** _Heast_, command.] + + + + +SONNETS + +WRITTEN BY SPENSER, + +COLLECTED FKOM THE ORIGINAL PUBLICATIONS IN WHICH THEY APPEARED. + +I*. + +_To the right worshipfull, my singular good frend, M. Gabriell Harvey, +Doctor of the Lawes._ + + +Harvey, the happy above happiest men +I read**; that, sitting like a looker-on +Of this worldes stage, doest note with critique pen +The sharpe dislikes of each condition: +And, as one carelesse of suspition, +Ne fawnest for the favour of the great, +Ne fearest foolish reprehension +Of faulty men, which daunger to thee threat: +But freely doest of what thee list entreat,@ +Like a great lord of peerelesse liberty, +Lifting the good up to high Honours seat, +And the evill damning evermore to dy: +For life and death is in thy doomeful writing; +So thy renowme lives ever by endighting. + + +Dublin, this xviij. of July, 1586. + + +Your devoted friend, during life, + +EDMUND SPENCER. + + +[* From “Foure Letters and certaine Sonnets especially touching Robert +Greene, and other parties by him abused,” &c. London, 1592. TODD.] +[** _Read_, consider.] +[@ _Entreat_, treat.] + +II*. + +Whoso wil seeke, by right deserts, t’attaine +Unto the type of true nobility, +And not by painted shewes, and titles vaine, +Derived farre from famous auncestrie, +Behold them both in their right visnomy** +Here truly pourtray’d as they ought to be, +And striving both for termes of dignitie, +To be advanced highest in degree. +And when thou doost with equall insight see +The ods twist both, of both then deem aright, +And chuse the better of them both to thee; +But thanks to him that it deserves behight@: + To Nenna first, that first this worke created, + And next to Iones, that truely it translated. + +ED. SPENSER. + +[* Prefixed to “Nennio, or A Treatise of Nobility, &c. Written in +Italian by that famous Doctor and worthy Knight, Sir John Baptista +Nenna of Bari. Done into English by William Iones, Gent.” 1595. TODD.] +[** _Visnomy_, features.] +[@ _Behight_, accord.] + +III*. + +_Upon the Historie of George Castriot, alias Scanderbeg, King of the +Epirots, translated into English._ + + +Wherefore doth vaine Antiquitie so vaunt +Her ancient monuments of mightie peeres, +And old heröes, which their world did daunt +With their great deedes and fild their childrens eares? +Who, rapt with wonder of their famous praise, +Admire their statues, their colossoes great, +Their rich triumphall arcks which they did raise, +Their huge pyrámids, which do heaven threat. +Lo! one, whom later age hath brought to light, +Matchable to the greatest of those great; +Great both by name, and great in power and might, +And meriting a meere** triumphant seate. + The scourge of Turkes, and plague of infidels, + Thy acts, O Scanderbeg, this volume tels. + +ED. SPENSER. + +[* Prefixed to the “Historie of George Castriot, alias Scanderbeg, King +of Albanie: Containing his famous actes, &c. Newly translated out of +French into English by Z.I. Gentleman.” 1596. TODD.] [** _Meere_, +absolute, decided.] + +IV*. + +The antique Babel, empresse of the East, +Upreard her buildinges to the threatned skie: +And second Babell, tyrant of the West, +Her ayry towers upraised much more high. +But with the weight of their own surquedry** +They both are fallen, that all the earth did feare, +And buried now in their own ashes ly, +Yet shewing, by their heapes, how great they were. +But in their place doth now a third appeare, +Fayre Venice, flower of the last worlds delight; +And next to them in beauty draweth neare, +But farre exceedes in policie of right. + Yet not so fayre her buildinges to behold + As Lewkenors stile that hath her beautie told. + +EDM. SPENCER. + +[* Prefixed to “The Commonwealth and Government of Venice, Written by +the Cardinall Gaspar Contareno, and translated out of Italian into +English by Lewes Lewkenor, Esquire.” London, 1599. TODD.] [** +_Surquedry_, presumption.] + + + + +APPENDIX. + + + + +APPENDIX I. + +VARIATIONS FROM THE ORIGINAL EDITIONS. + + +The Ruines of Time v. 353, covetize, Q. covertize. +The Ruines of Time v. 541, ocean, Q. Occaean. +The Ruines of Time v. 551, which (ed. 1611), Q. with. +The Ruines of Time v. 574, worlds (ed. 1611), Q. words. +The Ruines of Time v. 675, worldës, Q. worlds. +The Teares of the Muses v. 600, living (ed. 1611), Q. loving. +Virgils Gnat v. 149, Ascraean, Q. Astraean. +Virgils Gnat v. 340, seest thou not (ed. 1611), Q. seest thou. +Virgils Gnat v. 387, throat (ed. 1611), Q. threat. +Virgils Gnat v. 575, billowes, Q. billowe. +Prosopopoia v. 53, gossip, Q. goship. +Prosopopoia v. 453, diriges, Q. dirges. +Prosopopoia v. 648, at all, Q. all. +Prosopopoia v. 997, whether, Q. whither. +Prosopopoia v. 1012, stopt, Q. stept. +Prosopopoia v. 1019, whither, Q. whether. +Ruines of Rome xviii. 5, ornaments, Q. ornament. +Muiopotmos v. 250, dispacing, Q. displacing. +Muiopotmos v. 431, yongthly, Q. yougthly. +The Visions of Bellay ii. 8, one, Q. on. +The Visions of Bellay ix. 1, astonied, Q. astoined. +The Visions of Petrarche vii. 1, behold, Q. beheld. +Amoretti lxxxii. 2, placed, Orig ed*. plac’d. [* According to Todd.] +Epithalmion v. 67, dere, orig. ed. dore. +Epithalmion v. 190, mazeful (ed. 1611), orig. ed. amazeful. +Epithalmion v. 290, sad dread (ed. 1611), orig. ed. dread. +Epithalmion v. 341, Pouke, orig. ed. ponke. +An Hymne in Honour of Love v. 165, they will (ed. 1611), orig. ed. thou +wilt. +An Hymne in Honour of Love v. 169, be enfyred (ed. 1611), orig. ed. he +enfyred. +An Hymne in Honour of Love v. 302, an (ed. 1611), orig. ed. and. +An Hymne in Honour of Beautie v. 147, deform’d, orig. ed. perform’d. +An Hymne in Honour of Beautie v. 171, affections (ed. 1611), orig. ed. +affection. + + + + +APPENDIX II. + + +_To the Worshipfull, his very singular good friend, Maister G. H., +Fellow of Trinitie Hall in Cambridge._ * + + +[* Reprinted from “Ancient Critical Essays upon English Poets and +Poesy. Edited by Joseph Haslewood”. Vol II] + +GOOD MAISTER G.:— + + +I perceiue, by your most curteous and frendly letters, your good will +to be no lesse in deed than I alwayes esteemed. In recompence wherof, +think, I beseech you, that I wil spare neither speech, nor wryting, nor +aught else, whensoeuer and wheresoeuer occasion shal be offred me; yea, +I will not stay till it be offred, but will seeke it in al that +possibly I may. And that you may perceiue how much your counsel in al +things preuaileth with me, and how altogither I am ruled and ouer-ruled +thereby, I am now determined to alter mine owne former purpose, and to +subscribe to your advizement; being, notwithstanding, resolued stil to +abide your farther resolution. My principal doubts are these. First, I +was minded for a while to haue intermitted the vttering of my writings; +leaste by ouer-much cloying their noble eares, I should gather a +contempt of myself, or else seeme rather for game and commoditie to doe +it, for some sweetnesse that I haue already tasted. Then also me +seemeth the work too base for his excellent lordship, being made in +honour of a priuate personage vnknowne, which of some ylwillers might +be vpbraided, not to be so worthie as you knowe she is; or the matter +not so weightie that it should be offred to so weightie a personage, or +the like. The selfe former title still liketh me well ynough, and your +fine addition no lesse. If these and the like doubtes maye be of +importaunce, in your seeming, to frustrate any parte of your aduice, I +beeseeche you without the leaste selfe loue of your own purpose, +councell me for the beste: and the rather doe it faithfullye and +carefully, for that, in all things, I attribute so muche to your +iudgement, that I am euermore content to adnihilate mine owne +determinations in respecte thereof. And, indeede, for your selfe to, it +sitteth with you now to call your wits & senses togither (which are +alwaies at call) when occasion is so fairely offered of estimation and +preferment, For whiles the yron is hote it is good striking, and minds +of nobles varie, as their estates. _Verum ne quid durius._ + +I pray you bethinks you well hereof, good Maister G., and forth with +write me those two or three special points and caueats for the nonce; +_De quibus in superioribus illis mellitissimus longissimisque litteris +tuis._ Your desire to heare of my late beeing with hir Maiestie muste +dye in it selfe. As for the twoo worthy gentle men, Master Sidney and +Master Dyer, they haue me, I thanke them, in some vse of familiarity; +of whom and to whome what speache passeth for youre credite and +estimation I leaue your selfe to conceiue, hauing alwayes so well +conceiued of my vnfained affection and zeale towardes you. And nowe +they haue proclaimed in their [Greek: hareiophaga] a generall +surceasing and silence of balde rymers, and also of the verie beste to; +in steade whereof they haue, by authoritie of their whole senate, +prescribed certaine lawes and rules of quantities of English sillables +for English verse; hauing had thereof already greate practise, and +drawen mee to their faction. Newe bookes I heare of none, but only of +one* [* Stephen Gosson.], that writing a certaine booke called _The +Schoole of Abuse_, and dedicating it to Maister Sidney, was for hys +labor scorned; if, at leaste, it be in the goodnesse of that nature to +scorne. Such follie is it not to regard aforehande the inclination and +qualitie of him to whome wee dedicate oure bookes. Suche mighte I +happily incurre, entituling _My Slomber_, and the other pamphlets, vnto +his honor. I meant them rather to Maister Dyer. But I am of late more +in loue wyth my Englishe versifying than with ryming: whyche I should +haue done long since, if I would then haue followed your councell. _Sed +te solum iam tum suspicabar cum Aschamo sapere; nunc aulam video +egregios alere poetas Anglicos_. Maister E.K. hartily desireth to be +commended vnto your worshippe: of whome what accompte he maketh youre +selfe shall hereafter perceiue by hys paynefull and dutifull verses of +your selfe. + +Thus muche was written at Westminster yesternight; but comming this +morning, beeyng the sixteenth of October [1579], to Mystresse Kerkes, +to haue it deliuered to the carrier, I receyued youre letter, sente me +the laste weeke; whereby I perceiue you otherwhiles continue your old +exercise of versifying in English,—whych glorie I had now thought +whoulde haue bene onely ours heere at London and the court. + +Truste me, your verses I like passingly well, and enuye your hidden +paines in this kinde, or rather maligne and grudge at your selfe, that +woulde not once imparte so muche to me. But once or twice you make a +breache in Maister Drants rules: _quod tamen condonabimus tanto poetae, +tuaeque ipsius maximae in his rebus autoritati._ You shall see, when we +meete in London, (whiche when it shall be, certifye vs,) howe fast I +haue followed after you in that course: beware, leaste in time I +ouertake you. _Veruntamen te solum sequar, (vt saepenumero sum +professus,) nunquam sane assequar dum viuam._ And nowe requite I you +with the like, not with the verye beste, but with the verye shortest, +namely, with a few _Iambickes_. I dare warrant, they be precisely +perfect for the feete, (as you can easily iudge,) and varie not one +inch from the rule. I will imparte yours to Maister Sidney and Maister +Dyer, at my nexte going to the courte. I praye you keepe mine close to +your selfe, or your verie entire friendes, Maister Preston, Maister +Still, and the reste. + + _Iambicum Trimetrum_ + + +Vnhappie Verse, the witnesse of my vnhappie state, + Make thy selfe fluttring wings of thy fast flying + Thought, and fly forth vnto my love whersoeuer she be: + + +Whether lying reastlesse in heauy bedde, or else + Sitting so cheerelesse at the cheerfull boorde, or else + Playing alone carelesse on hir heauenlie virginals. + + +If in bed, tell hir, that my eyes can take no reste; + If at boorde, tell hir, that my mouth can eate no meate; + If at hir virginals, tel hir, I can heare no mirth. + + +Asked why? say, Waking loue suffereth no sleepe; + Say, that raging loue dothe appall the weake stomacke; + Say, that lamenting loue marreth the musicall. + + +Tell hir, that hir pleasures were wonte to lull me asleepe; + Tell hir, that hir beautie was wonte to feede mine eyes; + Tell hir, that hir sweete tongue was wonte to make me mirth. + + +Nowe doe I nightly waste, wanting my kindely reste; + Nowe doe I dayly starue, wanting my liuely foode; + Nowe doe I alwayes dye, wanting thy timely mirth. + + +And if I waste, who will bewaile my heauy chaunce? + And if I starue, who will record my cursed end? + And if I dye, who will saye, _This was Immerito?_ + + +I thought once agayne here to haue made an ende, with heartie _Vale_, +of the best fashion; but loe, an ylfavoured mys chaunce. My last +farewell, whereof I made great accompt, and muche maruelled you shoulde +make no mention thereof, I am nowe tolde, (in the diuel’s name,) was +thorough one mans negligence quite forgotten, but shoulde nowe +vndoubtedly haue beene sent, whether I hadde come or no. Seing it can +now be no otherwise, I pray you take all togither, wyth all their +faults: and nowe I hope you will vouchsafe mee an answeare of the +largest size, or else I tell you true, you shall bee verye deepe in my +debte; notwythstandyng thys other sweete but shorte letter, and fine, +but fewe verses. But I woulde rather I might yet see youre owne good +selfe, and receiue a reciprocall farewell from your owne sweete mouth. + + +_Ad ornatissimum virum, multis iam diu nominibus clarissimum, G. H., +Immerito sui, mox in Gallias nauigaturi,_ [Greek: Eutuchein] + + +Sic malus egregium, sic non inimicus amicum, +Sicque nouus veterem iubet ipse poeta poetam +Saluere, ac caelo, post secula multa, secundo, +Iam reducem, (caelo mage quam nunc ipse sccundo) +Vtier. Ecce deus, (modo sit deus ille, renixum +Qui vocet in scelus, et iuratos perdat amores) +Ecce deus mihi clara dedit modo signa marinus, +Et sua veligero lenis parat aequora ligno +Mox sulcanda; suas etiam pater AEolus iras +Ponit, et ingentes animos Aquilonis. +Cuncta vijs sic apta meis: ego solus ineptus. +Nam mihi nescio quo mens saucia vulnere, dudum +Fluctuat ancipiti pelago, dum navita proram +Inualidam validus rapit huc Amor, et rapit illuc +Consilijs Ratio melioribus vsa, Decusque +Immortale leui diffissa Cupidinis arcu*: + [* This line appears to be corrupt.] +Angimur hoc dubio, et portu vexamur in ipso. +Magne pharetrati nunc tu contemptor Amoris, +(Id tibi Dij nomen precor haud impune remittant) +Hos nodos exsolue, et eris mihi magnus Apollo! +Spiritus ad summos, scio, te generosus honores +Exstimulat, majusque docet spirare poetam. +Quam leuis est Amor, et tamen haud leuis est Amor omnis. +Ergo nihil laudi reputas aequale perenni, +Praeque sacrosancta splendoris imagine tanti, +Caetera, quae vecors, vti numina, vulgus adorat, +Praedia, amicitias, vrbana peculia, nummos, +Quaeque placent oculis, formas, spectacula, amores, +Conculcare soles, vt humum, et ludibria sensus: +Digna meo certe Haruejo sententia, digna +Oratore amplo, et generoso pectore, quam non +Stoica formidet veterum sapientia vinclis +Sancire aeternis: sapor haud tamen omnibus idem. +Dicitur effoeti proles facunda Laertae, +Quamlibet ignoti iactata per aequora caeli, +Inque procelloso longum exsul gurgite ponto, +Prae tamen amplexu lachrymosae conjugis, ortus +Caelestes, Diuûmque thoros spreuisse beatos. +Tantum amor, et mulier, vel amore potetitior. Ilium +Tu tamen illudis; tua magnificentia tanta est: +Praeque subumbrata splendoris imagine tanti, +Praeque illo meritis famosis nomine parto, +Caetera, quae vecors, vti numina, vulgus adorat, +Praedia, amicitias, armenta, peculia, nummos, +Quaeque placent oculis, formas, spectacula, amores, +Quaeque placent ori, quaeque auribus, omnia temnis. +Nae tu grande sapis! sapor et sapientia non est: +Omnis et in paruis bene qui scit desipuisse, +Saepe supercilijs palmam sapientibus aufert. +Ludit Aristippum modo tetrica turba sophorum, +Mitia purpureo moderantem verba tyranno; +Ludit Aristippus dictamina vana sophorum, +Quos leuis emensi male torquet Culicis vmbra: +Et quisquis placuisse studet heroibus altis, +Desipuisse studet; sic gratia crescit ineptis. +Denique laurigeris quisquis sua tempora vittis +Insignire volet, populoque placere fauenti, +Desipere insanus discit, turpemque pudendae +Stultitiae laudem quaerit. Pater Ennuis vnus +Dictus in innumeris sapiens: laudatur at ipse +Carmina vesano fudisse liquentia vino. +Nec tu, pace tua, nostri Cato Maxime saecli, +Nomen honorati sacrum mereare poetae, +Quantumvis illustre canas, et nobile carmen, +Ni _stultire_ velis; sic stultorum omnia plena. +Tuta sed in medio superest via gurgite; nam qui +Nec reliquis nimium vult desipuisse videri, +Nec sapuisse nimis, sapientem dixeris vnum: +Hinc te merserit vnda, illine combusserit ignis. +Nec tu delicias nimis aspernare fluentes, +Nec sero dominam venientem in vota, nec aurum, +Si sapis, oblatum: (Curijs ea, Fabricijsque +Grande sui decus ij, nostri sed dedecus aeui;) +Nec sectare nimis: res vtraque crimine plena. +Hoc bene qui callet, (si quis tamen hoc bene callet,) +Scribe vel invito sapientem hunc Socrate solum. +Vis facit vna pios, iustos facit altera, et alt’ra +Egregie cordata ac fortia pectora: verum +_Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit vtile dulci._ +Dij mihi dulce diu dederant, verum vtile nunquam: +Vtile nunc etiam, o vtinam quoque dulce dedissent. +Dij mihi, (quippe Dijs aequalia maxima paruis,) +Ni nimis inuideant mortalibus esse beatis, +Dulce simul tribuisse queant, simul vtile: tanta +Sed fortuna tua est: pariter quaeque vtile, quaeque +Dulce dat ad placitum: sseuo nos sydere nati +Quaesitum imus eam per inhospita Caucasa longe, +Perque Pyrenaeos montes, Babilonaque turpem. +Quod si quaesitum nec ibi invenerimus, ingens +AEquor inexhaustis permensi erroribus vltra +Fluctibus in medijs socij quaeremus Vlyssis: +Passibus inde deam fessis comitabimur aegram, +Nobile cui furtum quaerenti defuit orbis. +Namque sinu pudet in patrio tenebrisque pudendis, +Non nimis ingenio iuuenem infoelice virentes +Officijs frustra deperdere vilibus annos, +Frugibus et vacuas speratis cernere spicas. +Ibimus ergo statim, (quis eutiti fausta precetur?) +Et pede clivosas fesso calcabimus Alpes. +Quis dabit interea, conditas rore Britanno, +Quis tibi litterulas, quis carmen amore petulcum! +Musa sub Oebalij desueta cacumine mentis, +Flebit inexhausto tarn longa silentia planctu, +Lugebitque sacrum lacrymis Helicona tacentem. +Harueiusque bonus, (charus licet omnibus idem,) +Idque suo merito prope suauior omnibus, vnus +Angelus et Gabriel, quamuis comitatus araicis +Innumeris, geniûmque choro stipatus amaeno, +_Immerito_ tamen vnum absentem saepe requiret; +Optabitque, Utinam meus hic _Edmundus_ adesset, +Qui noua scripsisset, nee amores conticuisset, +Ipse suos; et saepe animo verbisque benignis +Fausta precaretur, _Deus illum aliqaundo reducat_. &c. + + + Plura vellem per Charites, sed non licet per Musas. +Vale, Vale plurimum, Mi amabilissime Harueie, meo cordi, meorum + omnium longe charissime. + + +I was minded also to haue sent you some English verses, or rymes, for a +farewell; but, by my troth, I haue no spare time in the world to thinke +on such toyes, that, you knowe, will demaund a freer head than mine is +presently. I beseeche you by all your curtesies and graces, let me be +answered ere I goe; which will be (I hope, I feare, I thinke) the next +weeke, if I can be dispatched of my Lorde. I goe thither, as sent by +him, and maintained most what of him; and there am to employ my time, +my body, my minde, to his Honours seruice. Thus, with many superhartie +commendations and recommendations to your selfe, and all my friendes +with you, I ende my last farewell, not thinking any more to write vnto +you before I goe; and withall committing to your faithfull credence the +eternall memorie of our euerlasting friendship; the inuiolable memorie +of our ynspotted friendshippe, the sacred memorie of our vowed +friendship; which I beseech you continue with vsuall writings, as you +may, and of all things let me hears some newes from you: as gentle M. +Sidney, I thanke his good worship, hath required of me, and so promised +to doe againe. _Qui monet, vt facias, quod iam facis_, you knowe the +rest. You may alwayes send them most safely to me by Mistresse Kerke, +and by none other. So once againe, and yet once more, farewell most +hardly, mine owne good Master H., and loue me, as I loue you, and +thinke vpon poore Immerito, as he thinketh vppon you. + + +Leyc’ester House, this 5 [16*] of October, 1579. +[*: See Appendix II, para. 3:2.] + + +_Per mare, per terras, Viuus mortuusque, Tuus Immerito_. + + + + +_To my long approoued and singular good frende, Master G. H._ + +GOOD MASTER H.:— + + +I doubt not but you haue some great important matter in hande, which al +this while restraineth your penne, and wonted readinesse in prouoking +me vnto that wherein yourselfe nowe faulte. If there bee any such thing +in hatching, I pray you hartily lette vs knowe, before al the worlds +see it. But if happly you dwell altogither in Iustinians Courte, and +giue your selfe to be devoured of secreate studies, as of all +likelyhood you doe, yet at least imparte some your olde or newe, Latine +or Englishe, eloquent and gallant poesies to vs, from whose eves, you +saye, you keepe in a manner nothing hidden. Little newes is here +stirred, but that olde greate matter still depending. His Honoure neuer +better. I thinke the earthquake wyth you (which I would gladly learne), +as it was here with vs; ouerthrowing diuers old buildings and peeces of +churches. Sure verye straunge to be hearde of in these countries, and +yet I heare some saye (I knowe not howe truely) that they haue knowne +the like before in their dayes. _Sed quid vobis videtur magnis +philosophis?_ I like your late Englishe hexameters so exceedingly well, +that I also enure my penne sometime in that kinde: whyche I fynd, +indeede, as I haue heard you often defende in worde, neither so harde +nor so harshe, that it will easily and fairely yeelde it selfe to oure +moother tongue. For the onely or chiefest hardnesse whych seemeth is in +the accente, whyche sometime gapeth, and as it were yawneth +ilfauouredly, comming shorte of that it should, and sometime exceeding +the measure of the number; as in _carpenter_, the middle sillable being +vsed shorte in speache, when it shall be read long in verse, seemeth +like a lame gosling, that draweth one legge after hir: and _heauen_, +beeing vsed shorte as one sillable, when it is in verse, stretched out +with a _diastole_, is like a lame dogge that holdes vp one legge. But +it is to be wonne with custome, and rough words must be subdued with +vse. For why, a God’s name, may not we, as else the Greekes, haue the +kingdome of oure owne language, and measure our accents by the sounde, +reseruing the quantitie to the verse? Loe, here I let you see my olde +vse of toying in rymes, turned into your artificiall straightnesse of +verse by this _tetrasticon_. I beseech you tell me your fancie, without +parcialitie. + + + See yee the blindefolded pretie god, that feathered archer, + Of louers miseries which maketh his bloodie game? + Wote ye why his moother with a veale hath coouered his face? + Trust me, least he my looue happely chaunce to beholde. + + +Seeme they comparable to those two which I translated you _ex tempore_ +in bed, the last time we lay togither in Westminster? + + + That which I eate, did I ioy, and that which I greedily gorged; + As for those many goodly matters leaft I for others. + + +I would hartily wish you would either send me the rules and precepts of +arte which you obscrue in quantities, or else followe mine, that M. +Philip Sidney gave me, being the very same which M. Drant deuised, but +enlarged with M. Sidneys own iudgement, and augmented with my +obseruations, that we might both accorde and agree in one; leaste we +ouerthrowe one an other, and be ouerthrown of the rest. Truste me, you +will hardly beleeue what greate good liking and estimation Maister Dyer +had of your _Satyricall Verses_, and I, since the viewe thereof, hauing +before of my selfe had speciall liking of Englishe versifying, am euen +nowe aboute to giue you some token what and howe well therein I am able +to doe: for, to tell you trueth, I minde shortely, at conuenient +leysure, to sette forth a booke in this kinde, whyche I entitle, +_Epithalamion Thamesis_, whyche booke I dare vndertake wil be very +profitable for the knowledge, and rare for the inuention and manner of +handling. For in setting forth the marriage of the Thames, I shewe his +first beginning, and offspring, and all the countrey that he passeth +thorough, and also describe all the riuers throughout Englande, whyche +came to this wedding, and their righte names and right passage, &c.; a +worke, beleeue me, of much labour, wherein notwithstanding Master +Holinshed hath muche furthered and aduantaged me, who therein hath +bestowed singular paines in searching oute their firste heades and +sourses, and also in tracing and dogging onto all their course, til +they fall into the sea. + + +_O Tite, siquid ego, Ecquid erit pretij?_ + + +But of that more hereafter. Nowe, my _Dreames_ and _Dying Pellicane_ +being fully finished (as I partelye signified in my laste letters) and +presentlye to bee imprinted, I wil in hande forthwith with my _Faery +Queene_, whyche I praye you hartily send me with al expedition: and +your frendly letters, and long expected judgement wythal, whyche let +not be shorte, but in all pointes suche as you ordinarilye vse and I +extraordinarily desire. _Multum vale. Westminster. Quarto Nonas +Aprilis, 1580. Sed, amabo te, meum Corculum tibi se ex animo commendat +plurimum: iamdiu mirata, te nihil ad literas suas responsi dedisse. +Vide quaeso, ne id tibi capitale sit: mihi certe quidem erit, neque +tibi hercle impune, vt opinor. Iterum vale, et quam voles soepe._ Yours +alwayes, to commaunde, IMMERITO. + + +_Postcripte._ + + +I take best my _Dreames_ shoulde come forth alone, being growen, by +meanes of the Glosse (running continually in maner of a paraphrase), +full as great as my _Calendar_ Therin be some things excellently, and +many things wittily, discoursed of E. K., and the pictures so +singularly set forth and purtrayed, as if Michael Angelo were there, he +could (I think) nor amende the beste, nor reprehende the worst. I knowe +you woulde lyke them passing wel. Of my _Stemmata Dudleiana_, and +especially of the sundry apostrophes therein, addressed you knowe to +whome, muste more aduisement be had, than so lightly to sende them +abroade: howbeit, trust me, (though I doe never very well,) yet, in my +owne fancie, I neuer dyd better: _Veruntamen te sequor solum; nunquam +vero assequar._ + + + + +_Extract from Harvey’s Reply._ + + +But Master Collin Cloute is not euery body, and albeit his olde +companions, Master Cuddy & Master Hobbinoll, be as little be holding to +their Mistresse Poetrie as euer you wist, yet he peraduenture, by the +meanes of hir speciall fauour, and some personall priuiledge, may +happely line by Dying Pellicanes, and purchase great landes and +lordshippes with the money which his Calendar and Dreames haue and will +affourde him. _Extra iocum_, I like your Dreames passingly well; and +the rather, bicause they sauour of that singular extraordinarie veine +and inuention whiche I euer fancied moste, and in a manner admired +onelye in Lucian, Petrarche, Aretine, Pasquill, and all the most +delicate and fine conceited Grecians and Italians, (for the Romanes to +speake of are but verye ciphars in this kinde,) whose chiefest endeuour +and drifte was to haue nothing vulgare, but, in some respecte or other, +and especially in liuely hyperbolicall amplifications, rare, queint, +and odde in euery pointe, and, as a man woulde saye, a degree or two, +at the leaste, aboue the reache and compasse of a common scholars +capacitie. In whiche respecte notwithstanding, as well for the +singularitie of the manner as the diuinitie of the matter, I hearde +once a diuine preferre Saint Iohns Reuelation before al the veriest +metaphysicall visions and iolliest conceited dreames or extasies that +euer were deuised by one or other, howe admirable or super excellent +soeuer they seemed otherwise to the worlde. And truely I am so +confirmed in this opinion, that when I bethinke me of the verie +notablest and moste wonderful propheticall or poeticall vision that +euer I read, or hearde, meseemeth the proportion is so vnequall, that +there hardly appeareth anye semblaunce of comparison: no more in a +manner (specially for poets) than doth betweene the incomprehensible +wisedome of God and the sensible wit of man. But what needeth this +digression betweene you and me? I dare saye you wyll holde your selfe +reasonably wel satisfied, if youre Dreames be but as well esteemed of +in Englande as Petrarches Visions be in Italy; whiche, I assure you, is +the very worst I wish you. But see how I haue the arte memoratiue at +commaundement. In good faith, I had once again nigh forgotten your +Faerie Queene: howbeit, by good chaunce, I haue nowe sent hir home at +the laste, neither in better nor worse case than I founde hir. And must +you of necessitie haue my iudgement of hir indeede? To be plaine, I am +voyde of al iudgement, if your nine Comoedies, whervnto, in imitation +of Herodotus, you giue the names of the nine Muses, (and in one mans +fansie not vnworthily), come not neerer Ariostoes comoedies, eyther for +the finesse of plausible elocution or the rarenesse of poetical +inuention, than that Eluish Queene doth to his Orlando Furioso; which, +notwithstanding, you wil needes seeme to emulate, and hope to ouergo, +as you flatly professed yourself in one of your last letters. Besides +that, you know, it hath bene the vsual practise of the most exquisite +and odde wittes in all nations, and specially in Italie, rather to +shewe and aduaunce themselues that way than any other; as, namely, +those three notorious dyscoursing heads, Bibiena, Machiauel, and +Aretine, did, (to let Bembo and Ariosto passe,) with the great +admiration and wonderment of the whole countrey: being, in deede, +reputed matchable in all points, both for conceyt of witte and eloquent +decyphering of matters, either with Aristophanes and Menander in Greek, +or with Plautus and Terence in Latin, or with any other in any other +tong. But I wil not stand greatly with you in your owne matters. If so +be the Faerye Queeue be fairer in your eie than the nine Muses, and +Hobgoblin runne away with the garland from Apollo, marke what I saye: +and yet I will not say that I thought, but there an end for this once, +and fare you well, till God or some good aungell putte you in a better +minde. + + + + +APPENDIX III. + +INDEX OF PROPER NAMES. + + +Abessa, i. +Abus, ii. +Achilles, v. +Acidalian Mount, iii.; iv. +Acontius, ii. +Acrasiai, ii. +Actea, iii. +Adicia, iii. +Adin, ii. +Adonis, Gardens of, ii.; v. +Aeacidee, iv. +Aedus, iii. +Aegerie, ii. +Aegina, ii. +Aemylia, iii. +Aeneas, ii. +Aesculapius, i. +Aeson, v. +Aëtion, iv. +Agamemnon, v. +Agape, iii. +Agave, iii. +Agdistes, ii. +Agenor, iii. +Aggannip of Celtica, ii. +Aglaia, iv. +Aglaura, iv. +Alabaster, iv. +Aladine, iv. +Alane, iv. +Albanact, ii. +Albania, ii. +Albany, iii. +Albion, ii. +Alceste, v. +Alcluid, ii. +Alcmena, ii.; brood of, v. +Alcon, iv.; v. +Alcyon, iv.; v. +Alcides, ii.; iii. +Alebius, iii. +Alexander, ii.; iii. +Alexis, iv. +Algrind, iv. +Alimeda, iii. +Allan, ii. +Allectus, ii. +Allo, iii.; iv. +Alma, ii. +Alpheus, iii. +Amaryllis, iv. +Amavia, i. +Amazon (river), i. +Ambition, ii. +Ambrosia, ii.; v. +Ambrosius, King, ii. +America, ii. +Amidas, iii. +Amintas, ii. +Amoret, ii.; iii. +Amoretta, ii. +Amphisa, ii. +Amphitrite (Nereid), iii. +Amyas, iii. +Amyntas, iii. +Anamnestes, ii. +Anchyses, ii. +Androgeus, ii. +Angela, ii. +Angles, ii. +Antiochus, i. +Antiopa, ii. +Antiquitiee of Faery Lond, ii. +Antonius, i. +Aon, iii. +Ape (the), v. +Apollo, ii. +Appetite, ii. +Aprill, iv. +Arachne, v. +Aragnoll, v. +Arcady, iv. +Archigald, ii. +Archimago, i.; ii. +Ardenne, iii. +Ardeyn, iv. +Argante, ii. +Argo, ii. +Argonauts, iii. +Ariadne, iv. +Arion, iii. +Arlo-hill, iv. +Armeddan, iii. +Armoricke, ii. +Armulla, iv. +Arne, ii. +Arras, ii. +Artegall, ii.; iii.; iv. +Artegall, Legend of, iii. +Arthure, Prince, i.; ii.; iii.; iv. +Arvirage, ii. +Asclepiodate, ii. +Ascraean bard, v. +Asie, ii. +Asopus, iii. +Assaracus, ii. +Assyrian Lyonesse, v. +Asterie, ii.; v. +Astraea, iii. +Astraeus, iii. +Astrophell, iv. +Atalanta, ii. +Ate, ii.; iii. +Athens, ii. +Athos, Mount, v. +Atin, i.; ii. +Atlas, ii. +Atropos, iii. +Aubrian, iii. +August, iv. +Augustine, ii. +Augustus, v. +Autonoë, iii. +Autumne, iv. +Avarice, i. +Avon, iii. +Awe, iii. + + +Babell, ii. +Babylon, iii.; v. +Bacchante, ii. +Bacchus, iii. +Baetus, v. +Ball, iv. +Ban, iii. +Bandon, iii. +Bangor, ii. +Barnaby, v. +Barow, iii. +Barry, ii. +Bartas, v. +Basciante, ii. +Bath, i.; iii. +Bedford, v. +Belgae, iii. +Belgard, castle of, iv. +Belgicke, i. +Belinus, ii. +Bellamoure, Sir, iv. +Bellay, v. +Bellisont, Sir, iii. +Bellodant, iii. +Bellona, ii.; iv. +Belphoebe, i.; ii.; iii.; v. +Belus, iii. +Biblis, ii. +Berecynthian goddesse, v. +Bilbo, v. +Bisaltis, ii. +Blacke-water, iii. +Bladud, ii. +Blandamour, iii. +Blandford, iii. +Blandina, iv. +Blatant Beast, iii.; iv. +Blomius, iii. +Boccace, iv. +Bonfont, iii. +Bowre of Blis, i.; ii. +Boyne, iii. +Bracidas, iii. +Braggadocchio, i.; ii.; iii. +Breane, iii. +Bregog, iv. +Brennus, ii. +Briana, iv. +Brianor, Sir, iii. +Brigadore, viii. +Bristow, iii. +Britany, ii. +Britomart, ii.; iii. +Britomartis, Legend of, ii. +Britonesse, ii. +Briton Moniments, ii. +Briton Prince, i.; ii.; iii. +Broad-water, iv. +Brockwell, ii. +Brontes, iii. +Bronteus, iii. +Bruin, Sir, iv. +Bruncheval, iii. +Brunchild, ii. +Brunell, iii. +Brute, ii. +Brutus, ii. +Brytayne, Greater, ii. +Buckhurst, Lord of, i. +Bunduca, ii.; v. +Burbon, iii. +Burleigh, Lord, i. +Busyrane, ii.; iii. +Buttevant, iv. +Byze, v. + + +Cadmus, ii. +Cador, ii. +Cadwallader, ii. +Cadwallin, ii. +Cadwar, ii. +Caecily, ii. +Caelia, i. +Caelian Hill, +Caesar, i.; ii. +Caicus, iii. +Cairbadon, ii. +Cairleill, ii. +Cairleon, ii. +Calepine, Sir, iv. +Calidore, ii.; iv. +Calidore, Sir, Legend of, iv. +Calliope, iv.; v. +Cambden, v. +Cambel and Triamond, Legend of, iii. +Cambell, iii. +Camber, ii. +Cambine, iii. +Cambria, king of, ii. +Cambridge, iii. +Camilla, ii.; v. +Canacee, iii. +Candide, iv. +Cantium, ii. +Canutus, ii. +Caphareus, v. +Carados, ii. +Carausius, ii. +Care, ii.; iii. +Careticus, ii. +Carew (Cary), Lady, i. +Cary, Ladie, v. +Cassibalane, ii. +Castaly, v. +Castle Joyeous, ii. +Castriot, George, v. +Cayr-Merdin, ii. +Cayr-Varolame, ii. +Celeno, ii. +Centaures, iii. +Cephise, i. +Cephisus, ii. +Cerberus, i.; iv.; v. +Cestus, iii. +Change, iv. +Chaos, iii. +Charillis, iv. +Charissa, i. +Charlemaine, v. +Charybdis, v. +Charrwell, iii. +Chastity, Legend of, ii. +Chaucer, Dan, iii. +Chester, iii. +Cherefulnesse, iii. +Child of Light (Lucifer), v. +Chimaera, iv. +Christ, v. +Chrysaor (Artegall’s sword), iii. +Chrysogonee, ii. +Churne, iii. +Clare, iii. +Claribell, i.; iii.; iv. +Clarin (Clarinda), iii. +Clarion, v. +Claudius, ii. +Cle, iii. +Cleopatra, i. +Cleopolis, i.; ii. +Climene, ii. +Clio, ii.; v. +Clonmell, iii. +Clorinda, iv. +Clotho, iii.; v. +Cocytus, i.; ii. +Colchid mother, v. +Cole, iii. +Colin Clout, iv.; v. +Columbell, ii. +Compton and Mountegle, Ladie, v. +Concotion, ii. +Concord, iii. +Constantine, ii. +Constantius, ii. +Contemplation, i. +Conway, iii. +Coradin, i. +Corceca, i. +Cordeill, ii. +Corflambo, iii. +Coridon, iv. +Corineus, ii.; iv. +Cork, iii. +Cormoraunt, iv. +Cornwaile, ii.; iv. +Coronis, ii. +Corybantes, iv. +Corydon, iv. +Corylas, iv. +Coshma, iv. +Coulin, ii. +Countesse of Pembroke, i.; v. +Courtesie, Legend of, iv. +Coylchester, ii. +Coyll, ii. +Crane, iii. +Crete, v. +Creüsa, ii. +Critias, ii.; iii. +Croesus, i. +Crudor, iv. +Cruelty, ii. +Cteatus, iii. +Cuddie, iv.; iii. +Cumberland, Earle of, i. +Cundah, ii. +Cupido, ii. +Cupid, ii.; iii.; v.; + Maske of, ii.; + Court of, iv. +Curius, v. +Curtesie, iii. +Curtius, v. +Cybele, iii. +Cycones, v. +Cymo, iii. +Cymochles, i. +Cymodoce, iii. +Cymoënt, ii. +Cymothoë, iii. +Cynthia (Moon, Diana), i.; iv.; v. +Cyparisse, i. +Cytherea, ii.; v. +Cytheron, ii. + + +Damon and Pythias, iii. +Danaë, ii. +Daniell, iv. +Danius, ii. +Daphnaida, iv. +Daphne, ii.,; iv.; v. +Darent, iii. +Dart, iii. +Daunger, ii.; iii. +Day, iv. +Death, iv. +Debon, ii. +Debora, ii. +Decii, v. +December, iv. +Decetto, iv. +Dee, i.; ii.; iii. +Defetto, iv. +Deheubarth, ii. +Delay, iii. +Dell, ii. +Delos, ii. +Demogorgon, iii. +Demophoon, v. +Denmarke, ii. +Despayre, i. +Despetto, iv. +Despight, ii. +Desyre, ii. +Detraction, iii. +Devon, Sir, iii. +Diana, ii.; iv.; v. +Dice, iii. +Dido, iv. +Diet, ii. +Digestion, ii. +Diggon Davie, iv. +Dioclesian, daughters of, ii. +Discord, iii. +Disdayne, ii.; iv. +Displeasure, ii. +Dissemblaunce, ii. +Dolon, iii.; v. +Donwallo, ii. +Dony, iii. +Doris (Nereid), iii. +Doto, iii. +Doubt, ii.; iii. +Douglas, Sir, iii. +Doune, iii. +Druon, iii. +Dryope, i. +Duessa, i.; iii. +Dumarin, ii. +Dyamond, iii. +Dynamene, iii. +Dynevowre, ii. + + +Easterland, ii. +Easterlings, ii. +Ebranck. ii. +Ecaster, iii. +Echidna, iii.; iv. +Eden, ii.; iii. +Edwin, ii. +Egaltine of Meriflure, iv. +Eione, iii. +Eirene, iii. +Elfant, ii. +Elfar, ii. +Elferon, ii. +Elficleos, ii. +Elfiline, ii. +Elfin, ii. +Elfinan, ii. +Elfinell, ii. +Elfin Knight, i. +Elfinor, ii. +Elidure, ii. +Eliseis (of Alabaster), iv. +Elissa, i. +Eliza, i.; iv.; v. +Elizabeths three, v. +Elversham, ii. +Emmilen, ii. +Emiline, iv. +Encelade, ii. +Enias, Sir, iv. +Ennius, i. +Envie, i.; iii. +Ephialtes, v. +Erate (Nereid), iii.; + (Muse), v. +Erichthonian towre, v. +Erivan, iii. +Errant Damzell, ii. +Errour, i. +Eryx, iii. +Esquiline, v. +Essex, Earle of, i. +Esthambruges, ii. +Estrild, Ladie, ii. +Etheldred, ii. +Euboick cliffs, v. +Eucrate, iii. +Eudore, iii. +Eulimene, iii. +Eumenias, iii. +Eumnestes, ii. +Eunica, iii. +Eunomie, iii. +Euphoemus, iii. +Euphrates, i.; iii. +Euphrosyne, iv. +Eupompe, iii. +Europa, ii. +Eurydice, v. +Eurynome, iv. +Eurypulus, iii. +Eurytion, iii. +Eurytus, iii. +Euterpe, v. +Evagore, iii. +Evarna, iii. +Excesse, ii. + + +Fabii, v. +Faery Lond, i.; iii. +Faery Queene, i.; ii.; iii.; v. +Fanchin, iv. +Fansy, ii. +Father of Philosophie, iii. +Faunus, iv. +Feare, ii. +February, iv. +Ferramont, iii. +Ferraugh, Sir, iii. +Ferrex, ii. +Fidelia, i. +Fidessa, i. +Flaminius, v. +Flavia, iv. +Florimell, ii.; iii. +Flourdelis, iii. +Force, ii. +Foules Parley (Chaucer’s), iv. +Foxe, the, v. +Fradubio, i. +Fraud, ii. +Fraunce, i.; ii. +Friendship Legend of, iii. +Frith, iii. +Fulgent, ii. +Furor, i. +Fury, ii. + + +Galathaea, iii.; iv. +Galene, iii. +Ganges, iii. +Gardante, ii. +Gardin of Proserpina, ii. +Gate of Good Desert, iii. +Gealosy, ii. +Geffrey, Dan, iv. +Gehon, i. +Genius, ii. +Genuissa, ii. +Georgos, i. +Germany, ii. +Geryon, iii. +Geryoneo, iii. +Gilford, Henry, v. +Glamorgan, ii. +Glauce, ii.; iii. +Glauconome, iii. +Glaucus, iii. +Gloriana, i.; ii.; iv. +Gluttony, i. +Gnat, v. +Gnidas, ii. +Gobbelines, ii. +Godmer, ii. +God of Love, ii. +Goëmagot, ii. +Goëmot, ii. +Golden Fleece, iii. +Gonorill, ii. +Gorbogud, ii. +Gorboman, ii. +Gorges, Arthur, v. +Gorgon, i. +Gorlois, ii. +Gormond, ii. +Graces, iv. +Grant, iii. +Grantorto, iii. +Gratian, ii. +Grecian Libbard, v. +Greece, ii.; v. +Greenwich, v. +Grey, Lord, of Wilton, i. +Griefe, ii. +Griffyth, Conan, ii. +Gryll, ii. +Gualsever, iii. +Guendolene, ii. +Guitheline, ii. +Guizor, iii. +Gulfe of Greedinesse, ii. +Gurgiunt, ii. +Gurgustus, ii. +Guyon, i.; ii.; iii.; + Legend of Sir, i. + + +Haemony, iv. +Haemus, iv. +Hania, ii. +Hanniball, i. +Harpalus, iv. +Harvey, Gabriel, iv.; v. +Harwitch, iii. +Hate, ii.; iii. +Hatton, Sir Christopher, i. +Hebe, v. +Hebrus, i. +Hecate, iv. +Hector, ii. +Helena, ii. +Helena, Marquesse of North Hampton, v. +Heliconian Maides, ii. +Helle, ii. +Hellenore, ii. +Hellespont, v. +Hely, ii. +Hemus, ii. +Henalois, ii. +Henault, ii. +Hengist, ii. +Hercaean shores, vi. +Hercules, ii.; iii. +Hercules and Hyllus, iii. +Hercules two pillors, v. +Hevenfield, ii. +Hippolytus, i. +Hippothoë, iii. +Hobbinol, iv. +Hogh, ii. +Holland, iii. +Hope, ii. +Horror, ii. +Horsus, ii. +House of Care, iii. +House of Holinesse, i. +House of Pryde, i. +House of Temperance, ii. +Howard, Douglas, v. +Howard, Lord Charles, i. +Howell, Dha, ii. +Huddibras, Sir, i.; ii. +Humber, ii.; iii. +Humilta, i. +Hunnes, ii. +Hunsdon, Lord of, i. +Huntingdon, iii. +Huon, Sir, i. +Hyacinct, ii. +Hygate, ii. +Hylas, ii. +Hymen, v. +Hypocrisie, i. +Hyponeo, iii. +Hypsiphil, ii. + + +Ianuary, iv. +Ida, ii. +Idaean Ladies, ii. +Idle Lake, i.; ii. +Idlenesse, i. +Ignaro, i. +Ignorance, v. +Ilion, iii. +Immerito, iv. +Impatience, ii. +Impotence, ii. +Inachus, ii.; iii. +India, ii. +Indus, iii. +Ino, iii. +Inogene of Italy, ii. +Inquisition, iii. +Iocante, ii. +Iola, iii. +Ionathan and David, iii. +Iones, v. +Iordan, i. +Ioseph of Arimathy, ii. +Iove, iv.; v. +Iphimedia, ii. +Ireland, i.; ii.; iv. +Irena, iii. +Isis, ii.; iii. +Ismaël Africk, ii. +Isse, ii. +Ister, iii. +Itis, v. +Iulus, ii. +Iuly, iv. +Iune, iv. +Iuno, ii.; v. +Iustice, Legend of, iii. +Ixion, i. +Ixione, v. + + +Kenet, iii. +Kent, ii. +Kilkenny, iii. +Kilnemullah, iv. +Kimarus, ii. +Kimbeline, ii. +Kingdomes Care (Burleigh), iii. +King Edmond, v. +King Nine, ii. +Kinmarke, ii. +Kirkrapine, i. +Knight of the Hebene Speare, iii. +Knight of the Red Crosse, i.; iii.; + Legend of, i. +Knights of Maidenhead, iii. + + +Labryde, i. +Lacedaemon, ii. +Lachesis, iii. +Lady of Delight, ii. +Laestrigones, v. +Lago, ii. +Lamoracke, Sir, iv. +Land of Faerie, iv. +Lansack, iii. +Laomedia, iii. +Laomedon, ii. +Lapithees, iii.; v. +Latinus, ii. +Latium, ii. +Latmian Shepherd, v. +Latona, ii.; iv. +Layburne, ii. +Leander, v. +Lechery, i. +Leda, ii. +Leda (twinnes of), v. +Lee, iii. +Legend of Chastity, ii. +Legend of Courtesie, iv. +Legend of Friendship, iii. +Legend of Holinesse, i. +Legend of Iustice, iii. +Legend of Temperaunce, i. +Leicester, Earl of, v. +Leill, King, ii. +Lemno, iii. +Lentulus, i. +Lewkenor, v. +Leyr, King, ii. +Liagore, ii.; iii. +Life, iv. +Liffar, iii. +Liffy, iii. +Lincolne, ii.; iii. +Lindus, iii. +Lionnesse, iv. +Lipari, iii. +Lisianassa, iii. +Lisippus, v. +Litae, iii. +Lobbin, iv. +Locrine, ii. +Locrinus, iii. +Lodwick (Bryskett), v. +Logris, ii.; iii. +Loncaster, iii. +London, v. +Lone, iii. +Long Alba, ii. +Louthiane, ii. +Love, iii.; v. +Lowder, iv. +Lucinda, iii.; iv. +Lucifera, i. +Lucius, ii. +Lucy (Lucida), iii. +Lud, ii. +Lusitanian soile, i. +Lycon, iv. +Lyon, the, v. + + +Maa, iv. +Maeander, iii. +Madan, ii. +Maglan, king of Scottes, ii. +Mahound, iv. +Mahoune, ii. +Maia, v. +Maidenhed, Order of, i. +Malbecco, ii. +Malecasta, ii. +Maleffort, iv. +Maleger, ii. +Malengin, iii. +Malfont, iii. +Malgo, ii. +Malvenu, i. +Mammon, ii. +Manild, ii. +Mansilia, iv. +Mantuane, iv. +Marcellus, v. +March, iv. +Margaret, Countesse of Cumberland, v. +Marian, iv. +Maridunum, ii. +Marie (Anne), Countesse of Warwick, v. +Marin, iv. +Marinell, ii.; iii. +Marius, i.; ii. +Maro, i. +Marot, iv. +Mars, ii.; iv. +Martia, ii. +Mathraval, ii. +Mathusalem, ii. +Matilda, ii.; iv. +Mausolus, v. +Maximian, ii. +Maximinian, ii. +May, iv. +Mayre, iii. +Mecaenas, iv. +Medea, iii. +Medina, i. +Medua, iii. +Medusa, ii. +Medway, iv. +Medway and Thames, marriage of, iii. +Meliboe, iv.; v. +Meliogras, iv. +Melissa, iv. +Melite, iii. +Memprise, ii. +Menalcas, iv. +Melpomene, v. +Menevia, ii. +Menippe, iii. +Mercy, i. +Mercilla, iii. +Mercury, iv.; v. +Merlin, i.; ii. +Mertia, Dame, ii. +Mertians, ii. +Milesio, iii. +Minerva, v. +Mirabella, iv. +Modestie, iii. +Molanna, iv. +Mole, iii.; iv. +Mona, ii. +Mongiball, ii. +Morands, ii. +Mordant, i. +Morddure, ii. +More, the, v. +Morgan, ii. +Morindus, ii. +Morpheus, i. +Morrell, iv. +Mother Hubberd, v. +Mount Aventine, v. +Mount Quirinal, v. +Mount Saturnal, v. +Mount Viminal, v. +Mnemon, ii. +Mnemosyne, ii. +Mule, the, v. +Mulla, iii.; iv.; + Nymphes of, v. +Munera, iii. +Muscaroll, v. +Mutability, iv. +Mutius, v. +Myrrhe, ii. + + +Naiades, v. +Nature, iv. +Nausa, ii. +Nausicle, ii. +Neaera, iv. +Neleus, iii. +Nemertea, iii. +Nene, iii. +Nenna, v. +Nennius, i.; ii. +Nepenthe, iii. +Neptune, ii.; iii. +Nereus, ii.; iii. +Nesaea, iii. +Neso, iii. +Nestor, ii. +Neustria, ii. +New Hierusalem, i. +Newre, iii. +Nictileus, v. +Nide, iii. +Night, i; iv. +Nile, iii. +Nilus, i. +Nimrod, i; iii. +Ninus, i. +Niobe, iv. +Noctante, ii. +Norris, Sir John, i. +Northumber, ii. +Northumberland, Earle of, i. +Norveyses, ii. +Norwitch, iii. +November, iv. +Numa, ii. +Nylus, v. + + +Obedience, iii. +Oberon, King, i; ii. +Occasion, i. +Ocean, iii. +Octa, ii. +Octavius, ii. +October, iv. +Oenone, ii; v. +Oeta, v. +Offricke, ii. +Ogyges, iii. +Ollyphant, ii. +Olympus, Mount, ii. +Oranochy, iii. +Oraxes, iii. +Order, iii. +Orgoglio, i; iv. +Origone, iii. +Orinont, Sir, iii. +Orion, iii. +Orkeny, ii. +Ormond and Ossory, Earle of, i. +Orown, iv. +Orpheus, iii; v. +Orsilochus, ii. +Orthrus, iii. +Osricke, ii. +Oswald, ii. +Oswin, ii. +Osyris, iii. +Othos, v. +Oure, iii. +Our Ladyes Bowre, iv. +Ouze, iii. +Overt-gate, ii. +Oxenford, Earle of, i. +Oxford, iii. +Oza, ii. + + +Pactolus, iii. +Paeon, ii. +Palatine, v. +Palemon, iii; iv. +Pales, iv; v. +Palici, v. +Palimord, Sir, iii. +Palin, iv. +Palinode, iv. +Palladine, iii. +Palmer, i; ii. +Pan, iv. +Panchaea, v. +Pandionian maides, v +Panopae, iii. +Panope, ii. +Panthea, ii. +Panwelt, ii. +Paphos, ii. +Paridas, ii. +Paridell, ii, iii. +Paris, ii; iii. +Parius, ii. +Parlante, ii. +Parnasse, Mount, v. +Paros, ii. +Pasiphaë, ii. +Pasithee, iii. +Pastorella, iiv. +Patience, i. +Paulinus, ii. +Payne, ii. +Paynim king (Philip II.), i. +Pelasgus, iii. +Peleus, iv; v. +Pelias, iii. +Pelleas, Sir, iv. +Pellite, ii. +Pembroke, Countesse of, i. +Penaunce, i. +Penda, ii. +Pendragon, v. +Penelope, iv. +Peneus, iii; v. +Penthesilee, ii. +Peridue, ii. +Perigot, iv. +Perissa, i. +Persephone, v. +Persian Beare, v. +Peru, i.; ii. +Peter, v. +Peter, William, v. +Petrarque, iv. +Phaedria, i.; ii. +Phaëton, v. +Phantastes, ii. +Phao, ii.; iii. +Phaon, i. +Phasides, iii. +Pherusa, iii. +Philemon, i. +Philip (Sidney), iv. +Phillisides, iv.; v. +Phillira, ii. +Philotime, ii. +Philtera, iii. +Phison, i. +Phoeax, iii. +Phoebe, ii. +Phoebus, ii.; iv. +Phoenice, v. +Phoenix, iii. +Pholoe, i. +Phorcys, iii. +Phyllis, iv. +Picts, ii. +Piers, iv. +Pilate, ii. +Placidas, iii. +Plaint of Kinde (Alane’s), iv. +Pleasaunce, ii. +Plexippus, iv. +Plim, iii. +Plimmouth, iii. +Podalyrius, iv. +Poeana, iii. +Pollente, iii. +Polyhymnia, v. +Polynome, iii. +Pompey, i. +Pontoporea, iii. +Poris, iii. +Porrex, ii. +Portamore, iv. +Port Esquiline, ii. +Praxiteles, ii. +Prays-Desire, ii. +Priamond, iii. +Priest, formall, v. +Priscilla, iv. +Prometheus, ii. +Pronaea, iii. +Proteus, ii.; iii.; iv. +Proto, iii. +Protomedaea, iii. +Pryene, i. +Psalmist, iii. +Psamathe, iii. +Psyche, ii.; v. +Ptolomaee, ii.; iii. +Pubidius, ii. +Pylades and Orestes, iii. +Pyracmon, iii. +Pyrochles, i.; ii. +Pyrrha and Deucalione, iii. +Pyrrus, v. + + +Queen Elizabeth, ii.; iv. +Quickesand of Unthriftyhed, ii. + + +Radegone, iii. +Radigund, iii. +Raleigh, Sir Walter, i.; iv. +Rauran, i. +Redcrosse Knight, ii. +Regan, ii. +Remorse, i. +Repentaunce, i.; ii. +Reproch, ii. +Revenge, ii. +Reverence, i.; iii. +Rhaesus, v. +Rhene, iii. +Rheüsa, iii. +Rhodanus, iii. +Rhodope, ii. +Rhodoricke the Great, ii. +Rhy, iii. +Rich Strond, ii. +Rinaldo, iii. +Rivall, ii. +Rock of Reproch, ii. +Roffin, iv. +Rome, ii.; iii.; v. +Romulus, i.; ii. +Rosalind, i.; iv. +Rosseponte, iii. +Rother, iii. +Rowne, iii. +Ruddoe, ii. +Ruddymane, i. +Russian, ii. +Ryence, King, ii. + + +Sabrina, ii. +Saint George, i. +Saint Radegund, v. +Salem, iii. +Salomon, v. +Salvage Island, iv. +Salvage Knight, iii. +Salvage Man, iv. +Samient, iii. +Sanazarius, iv. +Sangliere, Sir, iii. +Sansfoy, i. +Sansioy, i. +Sansloy, i. +Sao, iii. +Sathan, i. +Saturne, ii.; iv. +Satyrane, i.; iii. +Saxons, ii.; v. +Scaldis, ii. +Sclaunder, iii. +Scamander, ii.; iii. +Sanderbeg, v. +Scipio, i. +Scipion, v. +Scorne, iv. +Scudamore, Sir, ii.; iii. +Selinis, i. +Semelee, ii. +Semiramis, i.; ii. +September, iv. +Serena, iv. +Sergis, Sir, iii. +Severne, ii.; iii. +Severus, ii. +Shame, ii. +Shamefastnes, ii.; iii. +Shenan, iii. +Shepheard of the Ocean (Raleigh), iv. +Shield of Love, iii. +Shure, iii.; iv. +Sidney, Sir Philip, i.; iv.; v. +Silence, iii. +Silo, i. +Sisera, ii. +Sisillus, ii. +Sisyphus, i. +Skell, iii. +Slane, iii. +Sleepe, ii. +Slewbloome, iii. +Slewlogher, iii. +Slowth, i. +Socrates, ii. +Somerset, Ladies Elizabeth and Katherine, v. +Sommer, iv. +Sophy, ii. +Sorrow, ii. +South-Wales, ii. +Spau, i. +Spayne, ii. +Spencer, ii. +Speranza, i. +Spio, iii. +Spring, iv. +Spumador, ii. +Squire of Dames, ii.; iii. +Squire of Low Degree, iii. +Stamford, iii. +Stater, ii. +St. Brigets Bowre, iv. +St. Michels Mount, iv. +Stella, iv. +Sthenoboea, i. +Stoneheng, ii. +Stoure, iii. +Strange, Ladie, v. +Stremona, i. +Strife, i.; ii. +Sture, iii. +Styx, i. +Suspect, ii. +Swale, iii. +Sylla, i. +Sylvanus, i. +Sylvius, ii. +Syrinx, iv. + + +Talus, iii. +Tamar, iii. +Tanaquill, i.; ii. +Tantalus, i.; ii. +Tarquin, i. +Tartar, ii. +Tartare, ii. +Tartary, i.; v. +Teian Poet, v. +Telamon, v. +Tempe, ii. +Temperaunce, ii.; iii. +Templer Knights, v. +Tenantius, ii. +Termagaunt, ii. +Terwin, Sir, ii. +Terpsichore, v. +Tethys, i.; iii. +Thabor, Mount, iv. +Thalia, v. +Thalia (Grace), iv. +Thalia (Nereid), iii. +Thame, iii. +Thames, v. +Thamesis, v. +Thamis, ii.; iii.; v. +Theana, iv. +Thebes, ii.; iii. +Theise, iii. +Themes, iv.; v. +Themis, iii. +Themiste, iii. +Thenot, iv. +Theocritus, iv. +Therion, i. +Theseus, i. +Theseus and Pirithous, iii. +Thestylis, iv. +Thetis, iii.; iv.; v. +Thomalin, iv. +Thomiris, ii. +Thyamis, i. +Timias, ii.; iv. +Timon, i.; v. +Tindarid lasse, iii. +Titan, iv. +Titus and Gesippus, iii. +Tityrus, iv. +Tityus, i.; v. +Toure, ii. +Traherne, ii. +Treason, ii. +Trent, iii. +Trevisan, i. +Triamond, iii. +Triptoleme, v. +Tristram, iv. +Triton, iv. +Trompart, i. +Trowis, iii. +Troy, ii. +Troynovant, ii.; iii.; v. +Tryphon, ii.; iii. +Turmagant, iv. +Turpin, Sir, iii.; iv. +Twede, iii. +Tybris, iii. +Tygris, iii. +Tyne, iii. +Typhaeus sister, v. +Typhaon, iii.; iv. +Typhoeus, i.; ii. +Typhon, iii. + + +Ulfin, ii. +Ulysses, v. +Una, i. +Urania, iv. +Uranus, iv. +Ure, iii. +Uther, ii. + + +Velntide, Saint, iv. +Vanitie, i. +Venus, ii; iii; v. + temple and statue of, iii. +Verdant, ii. +Verlame, v. +Vespasian, ii. +Vigent, ii. +Virgil, iv. +Virginia, i. +Vortigere, ii. +Vortimere, ii. +Vortipore, ii. +Vulcan, iii. + + +Walsingham, Sir Francis, i. +Wandring Islands, ii. +Waterford, iii. +Welland, iii. +Were, iii. +Werfe, iii. +Whirlepoole of Decay, ii. +Willie, iv. +Willy, pleasant, v. +Winborne, iii. +Winter, iv. +Wiseman, the, iii. +Witches Sonne, ii. +Witch, the, ii. +Womanhood, iii. +Wrath, i. +Wrenock, iv. +Wyden, ii. +Wylibourne, iii. + + +Xanthus, ii.; v. + + +Yar, iii. +Ymner, ii. + + +Zele, i.; iii. +Zeuxis, ii. + +THE END. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDMUND SPENSER, VOLUME 5 *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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