REY (15173-1547)*

DESCRIPTION OF SPRING, WHEREIN EACH THING RENEWS, SAVE ONLY THE LOVER

The sooter season that bud and bloom forth brings

With green hath clad the hill and eke the vale;
The nightingale with feathers new she sings;
The turtle to her make2 hath told her tale:
Summer is come, for every spray now springs;
The hart hath hung his old head on the pale;
The buck in brake his winter cote he flings;
The fishes flete with new repaired scale;
The adder all her slough away she slings;
The swift swallow pursueth the flies smale;
The busy bee her honey now she mings3.
Winter is worn, that was the flowers' bale:
And thus I see among these pleasant things
Each care decays, and yet my sorrow springs.

A PRAISE OF HIS LOVE, WHEREIN HE
REPROVETH THEM THAT COMPARE THEIR
LADIES WITH HIS

On your behalf might well be sought, Than to compare, as ye have done, To match the candle with the sun.

DEPARTURE OF AENEAS FROM DIDO

Such great complaints brake forth out of

her breast;

Whiles Aeneas full minded to depart,
All things prepared, slept in the poop on high.
To whom in sleep the wonted godhead's form
'Gan aye appear, returning in like shape1
As seemed him, and 'gan him thus advise,
Like unto Mercury in voice and hue,
With yellow bush2, and comely limbs of youth:

"O goddess' son, in such case canst thou sleep,

Ne yet, bestraughts, the dangers dost foresee That compass thee, nor hear'st the fair winds blow?

Dido in mind rolls vengeance and deceit; Determ'd to die, swells with unstable ire. Wilt thou not flee whiles thou hast time of flight?

Straight shalt thou see the seas covered with sails,

The best of yours, I dare well sayen,
Than doth the sun the candle light,
Or brightest day the darkest night.

And thereto hath a troth as just
As had Penelope the fair;
For what she saith, ye may it trust
As it by writing sealed were.
And virtues hath she many moe
Than I with pen have skill to show.

I could rehearse, if that I would,

The whole effect of Nature's plaint When she had lost the perfect mold, The like to whom she could not paint. With wringing hands how she did cry, And what she said, I know it, I.

I know she swore with raging mind,
Her kingdom only set apart,
There was no loss, by law of kind5,
That could have gone so near her heart.

And this was chiefly all her pain:
She could not make the like again.

Sithe nature thus gave her the praise

To be the chiefest work she wrought,

flame,

And if the morrow steal upon thee here.
Come off, have done, set all delay aside;
For full of change these women be alway."
This said, in the dark night he 'gan him hide.
Aeneas, of this sudden vision
Adread, starts up out of his sleep in haste,
Calls up his feres: "Awake, get up, my

men!

Aboard your ships, and hoise up sail with speed.

A god me wills, sent from above again,
To haste my flight and wreathen cables cut.
O holy god, whatso thou art, we shall
Follow thee, and all blithe obey thy will.
Be at our hand and friendly us assist;
Address the stars with prosperous influence.''
And with that word his glistering sword un-

sheaths,

With which drawn he the cables cut in twain. The like desire the rest embraced all.

All things in haste they cast, and forth they whirl;

The shores they leave; with ships the seas are spread:

Cutting the foam by the blue seas thay sweep. (From the Translation of the Fourth

Book of Virgil's Aeneid.)

AND OF VIRGINIA,

DEFENDOUR OF THE FAITH, &C. HER MOST HUMBLE SERVAUNT

EDMUND SPENSER

DOTH IN ALL HUMILITIE DEDICATE, PRESENT, AND CONSECRATE THESE HIS LABOURS TO LIVE WITH THE ETERNITIE

OF HER FAME.

1

Lo I the man, whose Muse whilomel did maske, As time her taught, in lowly Shepheards weeds2,

Am now enforst a far unfitter taske,

1 formerly

2 Referring to the Shepheardes Calender, a pastoral poem. See Eng. Lit., 89-90.

* The Faerie Queene is an allegory designed to set forth "a gentleman or noble person in virtuous and gentle discipline." The central characters are Gloriana, the queen of an imaginary ("faerie") court, who symbolizes Glory, and her suitor Prince Arthur, who stands for Magnificence (Munificence), “which virtue is the perfection of all the rest." Besides these,

the twelve moral virtues were to have been separately represented by twelve knights, each performing deeds and overcoming temptations according to his character. But as the poet's design was never finished, only half these virtues get representation, and the cen

tral characters receive rather less prominence

Of Faerie knights and fairest Tanaquill7, Whom that most noble Briton Princes so long Sought through the world, and suffered so much ill,

That I must rue his undeserved wrong: O helpe thou my weake wit, and sharpen my dull tong.

3

And thou most dreaded impe of highest Jove,
Faire Venus sonne, that with thy cruell dart
At that good knight so cunningly didst rove,
That glorious fire it kindled in his hart,
Lay now thy deadly Heben10 bow apart,
And with thy mother milde come to mine ayde;
Come both, and with you bring triumphant
Mart11,

In loves and gentle jollities arrayd,

After his murdrous spoiles and bloudy rage allayd.

4

And with them eke, O Goddesse heavenly bright,

Mirrour of grace and Majestie divine,
Great Lady of the greatest Isle, whose light
Like Phoebus lampe12 throughout the world

doth shine,

Shed thy faire beames into my feeble eyne, And raise my thoughts, too humble and too vile,

To thinke of that true glorious type of thine, The argument of mine afflicted stile13:

The which to heare, vouchsafe, O dearest dred14, a-while.

Seemd in their song to scorne the cruell sky. Much can14 they prayse the trees so straight and hy,

Breedes dreadfull doubts: Oft fire is without smoke,

And like to lead the labyrinth about;

Ah Ladie, (said he) shame were to revoke The forward footing for an hidden shade: Vertue gives her selfe light, through darkenesse for to wade19.

13

Yea but (quoth she) the perill of this place
I better wot then you, though now too late
To wish you backe returne with foule disgrace,
Yet wisdome warnes, whilest foot is in the
gate20,

To stay the steppe, ere forced to retrate.
This is the wandring wood21, this Errours den,
A monster vile, whom God and man does hate:
Therefore I read22 beware. Fly, fly (quoth then
The fearcfull Dwarfe) this is no place for
living men.

14

But full of fire and greedy hardiment,
The youthfull knight could not for ought be
staide,

But forth unto the darksome hole he went,
And looked in: his glistring armor made
A litle glooming light, much like a shade,
By which he saw the ugly monster plaine,
Halfe like a serpent horribly displaide,
But th'other halfe did womans shape retaine,
Most lothsom, filthie, foule, and full of vile
disdaine23.

15

And as she lay upon the durtie ground,
Her huge long taile her den all overspred,
Yet was in knots and many boughtes24 up-
wound,

Pointed with mortall sting. Of her there bred

throughout, At length it brought them to a hollow cave Amid the thickest woods. The Champion stout Eftsoones1s dismounted from his courser brave, And to the Dwarfe awhile his needlesse spere he gave.

12

Be well aware, quoth then that Ladie milde, Least suddaine mischiefe ye, too rash provoke: The danger hid, the place unknowne and wilde,

Sucking upon her poisnous dugs, eachone
Of sundry shapes, yet all ill favored:
Soone as that uncouth light upon them shone,
Into her mouth they crept, and suddain all
were gone.

16

Their dam upstart, out of her den effraide, And rushed forth, hurling her hideous taile About her cursed head, whose folds displaid Were stretcht now forth at length without