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HENRY HOWARD, EARL OF SUR- In faith, methink, some better ways
DESCRIPTION OF SPRING, WHEREIN EACH THING
RENEWS, SAVE ONLY THE LOVER
The soote1 season that bud and bloom forth
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
Give place, ye lovers, here before,
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
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
Ne yet, bestraughts, the dangers dost foresee
That compass thee, nor hear 'st the fair winds
Dido in mind rolls vengeance and deceit;
Determ'd to die, swells with unstable ire.
Wilt thou not flee whiles thou hast time of
Straight shalt thou see the seas covered with
That spent your boasts and brags in vain; The blazing brands the shore all spread with
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 effect4 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.
Sith nature thus gave her the praise
To be the chiefest work she wrought,
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 feress: "Awake, get up, my
Aboard your ships, and hoise up sail with
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-
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
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.)
Helpe then, O holy Virgin chiefe of nine,
Thy weaker Novice to performe thy will;
Lay forth cut of thine everlasting scrynes
QUEENE OF ENGLAND, FRAUNCE, AND IRELAND, The antique rolles, which there lye hidden still,
AND OF VIRGINIA,
DEFENDOUR OF THE FAITH, &C.
HER MOST HUMBLE SERVAUNT
DOTH IN ALL HUMILITIE
DEDICATE, PRESENT, AND CONSECRATE
THESE HIS LABOURS
TO LIVE WITH THE ETERNITIE
OF HER FAME.
Lo I the man, whose Muse whilome1 did maske, As time her taught, in lowly Shepheards weeds2,
Am now enforst a far unfitter taske,
2 Referring to the Shepheardes Calender, a pastoral
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
Of Faerie knights and fairest Tanaquill,
Whom that most noble Briton Princes so long
Sought through the world, and suffered so
That I must rue his undeserved wrong:
O helpe thou my weake wit, and sharpen my dull tong.
And thou most dreaded impes 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
In loves and gentle jollities arrayd,
After his murdrous spoiles and bloudy rage
("faerie") court, who symbolizes Glory, and And with them eke, O Goddesse heavenly 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 central characters receive rather less prominence
than the six several virtues which are set
forth in the six completed books. Each of
these books, consisting of twelve cantos, is
practically a complete story in itself.
first deals with the Knight of the Red Cross,
or Holiness, who, clad in the armor of the
Christian faith, is sent forth by his Queen as
the champion of Ina (Truth) to deliver her
parents, "who had been by an huge dragon
many years shut up in a brasen castle." Be-
neath the moral allegory may be read also a
political one, according to which Gloriana is
Queen Elizabeth, Prince Arthur is Lord
Leicester, Duessa is Mary Queen of Scots, etc.
But after all, the poetry of the poem is
worth far more than the elaborate allegory.
The language and spelling are deliberately
and sometimes falsely archaic. See Eng. Lit.,
Mirrour of grace and Majestie divine,
Great Lady of the greatest Isle, whose light
Like Phoebus lampe12 throughout the world
Shed thy faire beames into my feeble eyne,
And raise my thoughts, too humble and too
To thinke of that true glorious type of thine,
The argument of mine afflicted stile13:
The which to heare, vouchsafe, O dearest
THE KNIGHT OF THE RED CROSS AND HIS FIGHT | Seemed in heart some hidden care she had, WITH THE MONSTER ERROR. THE WILES
And by her in a line a milke white lambe she lad.*
At last resolving forward still to fare,
Till that some end they finde or in or out,
That path they take, that beaten seemd most
And like to lead the labyrinth about;
Breedes dreadfull doubts: Oft fire is without smoke,
And peril without show: therefore your stroke, Sir Knight, with-hold, till further triall made. 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.
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
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
But full of fire and greedy hardiment,
The youthfull knight could not for ought be
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
And as she lay upon the durtie ground,
Her huge long taile her den all overspred,
Yet was in knots and many boughtes2 up-
Pointed with mortall sting. Of her there bred
Which when by tracti they hunted had A thousand yong ones25, which she dayly fed,
At length it brought them to a hollow cave Amid the thickest woods. The Champion stout Eftsoones18 dismounted from his courser brave, And to the Dwarfe awhile his needlesse spere
Be well aware, quoth then that Ladie milde, Least suddaine mischiefe ye, too rash provoke: The danger hid, the place unknowne and wilde,
15 Cp. Paradise Lost, I. 292-294. 17 trace
* Perhaps such a diversity of trees may be allowed in the Wood of Error. Spenser is nothing if not imaginative.
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
She lookt about, and seeing one in mayle
Armed to point26, sought backe to turne
For light she hated as the deadly bale,
Ay wont in desert darknesse to remaine,
Where plain none might her see, nor she see
His Ladie seeing all that chaunst, from farre
Approcht in hast to greet his victorie,
And said, Faire knight, borne under happy
Who see your vanquisht foes before you lye:
Well worthie be you of that Armorie32,
Wherein ye have great glory wonne this day,
And proov'd your strength on a strong enimie,
Which when the valiant Elfe perceiv'd, he lept | Your first adventure: many such I pray,
As Lyon fierce upon the flying pray,
And with his trenchand blade her boldly kept
From turning backe, and forced her to stay:
Therewith enrag'd she loudly gan to bray,
And turning fierce, her speckled taile advaunst,
Threatning her angry sting, him to dismay:
Who nought aghast his mightie hand en-
And henceforth ever wish that like succeed it may.
Then mounted he upon his Steede againe,
And with the Lady backward sought to wend;
That path he kept which beaten was most
Ne33 ever would to any by-way bend,
The stroke down from her head unto her But still did follow one unto the end,