That she them forced hand to join in hand,
Albe that Hatred was thereof full loth,
And turn'd his face away as he did stand,
Unwilling to behold that lovely band.

Yet she was of such grace and vertuous might, That her commandment he could not withstand,

But bit his lips for felonous despight, And gnasht his iron tusks at that displeasing sight.

Concord she cleeped was in common reed, Mother of blessed Peace, and Friendship true; They both her twins, both born of heavenly seed,

And she herself likewise divinely grew; The which right well her works divine did shew: [lends, For strength, and wealth, and happiness, she And strife, and war, and anger, does subdue: Of little, much, of foes she maketh friends, And to afflicted minds sweet rest and quiet sends.

By her the heaven is in his course contained, And all the world in state unmoved stands,

As their Almighty Maker first ordained, And bound them with inviolable bands; Else would the waters overflow the lands,

And fire devour the aire, and hell them quite, But that she holds them with her blessed hands. She is the nurse of pleasure and delight, And unto Venus grace the gate doth open right. Into the inmost temple thus I came, Which fuming all with frankencense I found, And odours rising from the altars flame: Upon an hundred marble pillers round, The roof up high was reared from the ground, All deckt with crowns, and chains, and gir

londs gay,

Upon the trembling wave, so shined bright, And round about him threw forth sparkling fire, side :

His steed was bloody red, and foamed ire, That seemed him to enflame on every When with the maist'ring spur he did him roughly stire.

Approaching nigh he never staid to greet, Ne chaffer words, proud courage to provoke, But prickt so fierce, that underneath his feet The smoldring dust did round about him smoke,

Both horse and man nigh able for to choke ; And fairly couching his steel-headed spear, Him first saluted with a sturdy stroke.

And him beside rides fierce revenging Wrath, Upon a lyon, loth for to be led;

And in his hand a burning brond he hath, The which he brandisheth about his head; His eyes did hurle forth sparkles fiery red,

And stared stern on all that him beheld, As ashes pale of hue, and seeming dead; And on his dagger still his hand he held, Trembling thro' hasty rage, when choler in him swell'd.

His ruffin raiment all was stain'd in blood Which he had spilt, and all to rage yrent,

Thro' unadvised rashness woxen wood, For of his hands he had no government, Ne car'd for bloud in his avengement;

But when the furious fit was overpast, His cruel facts he often would repent,

Yet, wilful man, he never would forecast, How many mischiefs should ensue his heedless hast!

Full many mischiefs follow cruel Wrath; Abhorred bloudshed, and tumultuous strife,

Unmanly murther, and unthrifty scath, Bitter despight, with rancour's rusty knife,. And fretting grief, the enemy of life,

And these and many evils more haunt ire, The swelling splene, and phrenzy raging rife, The shaking palsey, and St. Francis' fire,

tire.

SPENSER'S FAIRY QUEEN.

$110. Duessa weeping over her Enemy, compared to a Crocodile; and a Description of Night..

As when a weary traveller, that strays By muddy shore of broad seven-mouthed Nile, Unweeting of the perilous wandering ways, Doth meet a cruel crafty crocodile, Which in false grief hiding his harmless guile Doth weep full sore, and sheddeth tender tears: The foolish man, that pities all this while His mournful plight, is swallow'd up unawares, Forgetful of his own, that minds another's

cares.

So wept Duessa until even tide, That shining lamps in Jove's high house were light;

Then forth she rose, ne longer would abide, But comes unto the place where th' heathen knight

In slumb'ring swoon nigh void of vital spright, Lay cover'd with enchanted cloud all day; Whom when she found, as she him left in plight

To wail his woful case, she would not stay, But to the eastern coast of heaven makes speedy way,

Where griesly Night, with visage deadly sad,
That Phoebus' cheerful face durst never view,
And in a foul black pitchy mantle clad,
She finds forth-coming from her darksome

And all the while she stood upon the ground,
The wakeful dogs did never cease to bay,
As giving warning of th' unusual sound,
With which her iron wheels did them affray,
And her dark griesly look them much dismay.
The messenger of death, the ghastly owl,
With dreary shrieks did also her bewray;
And hungry wolves continually did howl
At her abhorred face, so filthy and so foul.

-On every side them stood
The trembling ghosts with sad amazed mood
Chattering their iron teeth, and staring wide
With stony eyes; and all the hellish brood
Of fiends infernal flock'd on every side,
To gaze on earthly wight, that with the Night

durst ride.

§ 111. Description of Lucifer's Palace.

A STATELY palace built of squared brick, Which cunningly was without mortar laid, Whose walls were high, but nothing strong nor thick,

And golden foil all over them display'd;
That purest sky with brightness they dismay'd:
High lifted up were many lofty tow'rs,
And goodly galleries far over-laid,

Full of fair windows, and delightful bow'rs;
And on the top a dial told the timely hours.
It was a goodly heap for to behold,
And spake the praises of the workman's wit;
But full great pity, that so fair a mould
Did on so weak foundation ever sit;
For on a sandy hill, that still did flit
And fall away, it mounted was full high,
That every breath of heaven shaked it;
And all the hinder parts, that few could spy,
Were ruinous and old, but painted cunningly.

§ 112. Lucifera ascending her Coach. SUDDEN upriseth from her stately place The royal dame, and for her coach doth call!

All hurlen forth, and she with princely pace,
As fair Aurora in her purple pall,
Out of the East the dawning day doth call.
So forth she comes: her brightness broad doth
blaze,

The heaps of people thronging in the hall
Do ride each other, upon her to gaze:
Her glorious glittering light doth all men's eyes

amaze.

§ 113. Description of Prince Arthur in his Habiliments of War.

A bunch of hairs, discolour'd diversly
UPON the top of all his lofty crest,
With sprinkled pearl, and gold full richly drest,
Did shake, and seem'd to dance for jollity,
Like to an almond tree ymounted high
On top of green Selinis all alone,
With blossoms brave bedecked daintily;
Whose tender locks do tremble every one
At every little blast that under heaven is blown.

$114. Description of Diana with her Nymphs, returned from the Chace, and preparing to bathe.

SHORTLY under the wasteful woods she came,
Whereat she found the goddess and her crew,
After late chace of their embrued game
Sitting beside a fountain in a rew,
Some of them washing with the liquid dew
From off their dainty limbs the dusty sweat,
And soil, which did deform their lively hue;
Others lay shaded from the scorching heat;
The rest upon her person gave attendance great.
She having hong upon a bough on high
Her bow and painted quiver, had unlac'd
Her silver buskins from her nimble thigh.
And her lank loins ungirt, and breasts unbrae'd,
After her heat the breathing cold to taste;
Her golden locks that late in tresses bright
Embreeded were for hindering of her haste,
Now loose about her shoulders long undight,
And were with sweet ambrosia all besprinkled
light.

She was asham'd to be so loose surpris'd;
Soon as she Venus saw behind her back,
And wox half wroth against her damsels slack,
That had not her thereof before advis'd,
But suffer'd her so carelessly disguis'd
Be overtaken. Soon her garments loosen
Upgathering in her bosom she compris'd,

That straight did lead to Pluto's griesly reign:
And fast beside him sat tumultuous Strife;
By that way's side there sat infernal Pain,
The one in hand an iron whip did strain,
The other brandished a bloody knife,
And both did knash their teeth, and both did
threaten life.

On the other side in one consort there sate
Cruel Revenge, and rancorous Despite,
Disloyal Treason, and heart-burning Hate;
Sitting alone, his bitter lips did bite:
But gnawing Jealousy, out of their sight
And trembling Fear still to and fro did fly,
And found no place where safe he shroud him
might.
Lamenting Sorrow did in darkness lie,
And Shame his ugly face did hide from living

eye.

And over them sad Horror, with grim hue,
Did always soar, beating his iron wings;
The hateful messengers of heavy things,
And after him owls and night-ravens flew,
Of death and dolour telling sad tidings;
Whilst sad Celeno, sitting on a cliff,
A song of bale and bitter sorrows sings,
That heart of flint asunder would have rift;
Which having ended, after him she flieth swift.

Garden.

Great enemy to it and all the rest That in the garden of Adonis springs, Is wicked Time, who, with his scythe addrest, Does mow the flow'ring herbs and goodly things,

And all their glory to the ground down flings, Where they do wither, and are foully marr'd: He flies about, and with his flaggy wings Beats down both leaves and buds without regard,

Ne ever pity may relent his níalice hard.

$118. Description of Jupiter.

So having said he ceas'd, and with his brow His black eye-brow, whose doomful dreaded beck

Is wont to wield the world unto his vow, And even the highest pow'rs of heaven to check,

Made sign to them in their degrees to speak.

His dwelling has, low in an hollow cave,
Far underneath a craggy clift ypight,
Dark, doleful, dreary, like a greedy grave,
That still for carion carcasses doth crave:
On top whereof ay dwelt the ghastly owl,
Shrieking his baneful note, which ever drave
Far from that haunt all other cheerful fowl:,
And all about it wand'ring ghosts did wail and
howl.

And all about, old stocks and stubs of trees,
Whereon nor fruit nor leaf was ever seen,
Did hang upon the ragged rocky knees;
On which had many wretches hanged been,
Whose carcasses were scatter'd on the green,
And thrown about the cliffs. Arrived there
That bare-head knight, for dread and doleful
teen,

Would fain have fled, ne durst approachen

near:

But th' other forc'd him stay, and comforted

in fear.

pass,

His garment, nought but many ragged clouts,
With thorns together pinn'd and patched was,
The which his naked sides he wrapp'd abouts:
And him beside there lay upon the grass
A dreary corse, whose life away did
All wallow'd in his own yet lukewarm blood,
That from his wound yet welled fresh, alas!
In which a rusty knife fast fixed stood,
And made an open passage for the gushing
flood.

Which piteous spectacle, approving true
The woful tale that Trevisan had told,
When as the gentle Red Cross knight did view,
With fiery zeal he burnt in courage bold,
Him to avenge before his blood were cold;
And to the villain said: Thou damned wight!
The author of this fact, we here behold,
What justice can but judge against thee right,
With thine own blood to price his blood, here
shed in sight.

What frantic fit (quoth he) hath thus distaught
Thee, foolish man, so rash a doom to give?
What justice ever other judgement taught,
But he should die, who merits not to live?
None else to death this man despairing drive
But his own guilty mind deserving death.
Is then unjust to each his due to give?
Or let him die, that loatheth living breath?
Or let him die at ease, that liveth here uneath?
Who travels by the weary wand'ring way,
To come unto his wished home in haste,
And meets a flood that doth his passage stay,
Is not great grace to help him over-past,

Or free his feet, that in the mire stick fast? Most envious man! that grieves at neighbour's good:

And fond, that joyest in the woe thou hast ; Why wilt not let him pass, that long hath

stood

Upon the bank, yet wilt thyself not pass the

flood?

He there does now enjoy eternal rest,

Is not his deed, whatever thing is done,
In heaven and earth? Did not he all create
To die again? All ends that was begun;
Their times in his eternal book of fate
Are written sure, and have their certain date,
Who then can strive with strong necessity,
That holds the world in his still changing
state,

Or shun the death ordain'd by destiny? When hour of death is come, let none ask whence, nor why.

The longer life, I wote the greater sin,
The greater sin, the greater punishment;
All those great battles which thou boasts to
win,

Thro' strife, and bloodshed, and avengement,
Now prais'd, hereafter dear thou shalt repent.
For life must life, and blood must blood repay.
Is not enough thy evil life forespent?
For he that once hath missed the right way,
The further he doth go, the further he doth

stray.

Then do no further go, no further stray,
But here lie down, and to thy rest betake,
Th' ill to prevent, that life ensuen may:
For what hath life, that may it loved make,
And gives not rather cause it to forsake?
Fear, sickness, age, loss, labour, sorrow, strife,
Pain, hunger, cold, that makes the heart to
quake;

And ever fickle fortune rageth rife,
And which, and thousands more, do make a
loathsome life.

Thou, wretched man, of death hath greatest need,

If in true balance thou wilt weigh thy state;
More luckless disadventures did amate:
For never knight that dared warlike deed
Witness the dungeon deep, wherein of late
Thy life shut up, for death so oft did call:
And tho' good luck prolonged hath thy date,
Yet death then would the like mishaps fore-

stall,

[fall.

Into the which hereafter thou mayst happen

To draw thy days forth to their last degree?
Is not the measure of thy sinful hire
High heaped up with huge iniquity,
Against the day of wrath, to burden thee?
Is not enough, that to this lady mild
Thou falsed hast thy face with perjury,
And sold thyself to serve Duessa vile, [fil'd?
With whom in all abuse thou hast thyself de-
Is not he just that all this doth behold
From highest heaven, and bears an equal eye?
Shall he thy sins up in his knowledge fold,
And guilty be of thine impiety?

Is not his law, Let every sinner die?
Die shall all flesh? What then must needs be
Is it not better to do willingly, [done,
Than linger till the glass be all out-run? [son.
Death is the end of woes. Die soon, O Fairy's
The knight was much enmoved with this
speech,
[pierce,
That as a sword's point through his heart did
And in his conscience made a secret breach,
Well knowing true all that he did rehearse,
And to his fresh remeinbrance did reverse
The ugly view of his deformed crimes,
That all his manly pow'rs it did disperse,
As he were charmed with inchaunted rhimes,
That oftentimes he quak'd, and fainted often-
times.

In which amazement when the miscreant
Perceived him to waver weak and frail,

With trembling horror did his conscience dant,
And hellish anguish did his soul assail :
To drive him to despair and quite to quail,
He shew'd him painted in a table plain,
The damned ghosts, that do in torments wail,
And thousand fiends that do them endless pain,
With fire and brimstone, which for ever shall

remain.

The sight whereof so throughly him dismay'd,
That nought but death before his eyes he saw,
And ever-burning wrath before him laid,
By righteous sentence of th' Almighty's law :
Then 'gan the villain him to over-craw,
And brought unto him swords, ropes, poison,
fire,

And all that might him to perdition draw;
And bade him choose what death he would
desire:
[God's ire.
For death was due to him that had provok'd
But when as none of them he saw him take,
He to him raught a dagger sharp and keen,
And gave it in his hand; his hand did quake,
And tremble like a leaf of aspin green,
And troubled blood thro' his pale face was seen
To come and go; with tidings from the heart,
As it a running messenger had been :
At last resolv'd to work his final smart,
He lifted up his hand, that back again did start.
Which when as Una saw, through every vein
The crudled cold ran to her well of life,
As in a swoon: but soon reliev'd again,
Out of his hand she snatch'd the cursed knife,
And threw it to the ground, enraged rife,
And to him said; Fie, fie, faint-hearted knight!
What meanest thou by this reproachful strife?
Is this the battle which thou vaunt'st to fight
With that fire-mouthed dragon, horrible and
bright?

Come, come away, frail, silly, fleshy wight,
Ne let vain words bewitch thy manly heart,
Ne devilish thoughts dismay thy constant
spright :

In heavenly mercies hast thou not a part? Why shouldst thou then despair, that chosen

art?

The which doth quench the brond of hellish smart,

And that accurs'd hand-writing doth deface: Arise, sir knight, arise, and leave this cursed place.

So up he rose, and thence amounted streight;
Which when the earl beheld, and saw his guest
Would safe depart, for all his subtle sleight,
He chose an halter from among the rest,
And with it hung himself, unbid, unblest.
But death he could not work himself thereby;
For thousand times he so himself had dress'd,
Yet natheless it could not do him die,
Till he should die his last, that is eternally.

With fifty swords, and fifty targets bright, She threaten'd death, she roar'd, she cried, and fought :

Each other nymph, in armour likewise dight, A Cyclops great became; he fear'd them nought,

But on the myrtle smote with all his might, Which groan'd, like living souls to death nigh brought; [hell, The sky seem'd Pluto's court, the air seem'd Therein such monsters roar, such spirits yell,

Lighten'd the heaven above, the earth below Roared aloud: that thunder'd, and this shook! Bluster'd the tempests strong: the whirl-winds

blow:

The bitter storin drove hail-stones in his look:

* Rinaldo.