OBSERVATIONS ON THE FAERIE QUEENE OF SPENSER.
By THOMAS WARTON, A. M. FELLOW of Trinity-College, OXFORD.
LONDON:
Printed for R. and J. DODSLEY; And J. FLETCHER, in the
Turl, Oxford.
MDCCLIV.
CONTENTS.
SECT. I. OF the plan and conduct of the FAERIE QUEENE
Pag.
1
SECT. II. Of Spenser's imitations from old Romances 13
SECT. III. Of Spenser's use and abuse of antient history and mythology 44
SECT. IV. Of Spenser's stanza, versification, and language 81
SECT. V. Of Spenser's imitations from Chaucer 99
SECT. VI. Of Spenser's imitations from Ariosto 142
SECT. VII. Of Spenser's inaccuracies 159
SECT. VIII. Of Spenser's imitations of himself 180
SECT. IX. Mr. Upton's opinion, concerning several passages in Spenser, examin'd 205
SECT. X. Of Spenser's allegorical character 217
SECT. XI. Containing miscellaneous remarks 239
ERRATA.
BEfore
this quotation,
insert, "a passage preceding." p. 10. l. 31. before
age,
insert, "that." p. 221. l. 2. after
mentions,
insert, "is." p. 46. l. ult. for
placet,
read, "places." p. 245. l. 3. for
smiles,
read, "smites." p. 240. l. 21. for
adopted,
read, "adapted." p. 224. l. 16. for
Handorst,
read, "Hundorst." p. 231. l. 8. The rest are such as cannot mislead the reader; which, however, he is desir'd to pardon.
OF THE PLAN and CONDUCT OF THE FAERIE QUEENE. SECT. I.
WHEN the works of Homer and of Aristotle began to be restored and studied in Italy, when the pure and uncorrupted sources of antient poesy and antient criticism were opened, and literature in general seemed emerging from the depths of Gothic ignorance and barbarity, it might have been expected, that, instead of the romantic species of poetical composition introduced by the provencal bards, a new and more legitimate taste of writing would have succeeded; that unnatural events, the machinations of imaginary beings, and adventures entertaining only as they were improbable, would have given place to justness of thought and design, and to that decorum which nature dictated, and which the example and the precept of antiquity had authorised. But it was a long time before such a change as this was effected; and we find Ariosto, many years after the revival of letters, rejecting truth for magic, and chusing rather to follow the irregular and ridiculous excursions of Boiardo, than the propriety and uniformity of the great Graecian and Roman Epic models. Nor was the state of criticism less generally and effectually influenced than that of poesy by the restoration of antient learning: Beni, one of the most celebrated critics of the sixteenth century, was still so infatuated with a love of the old provencal vein, that he ventured to write a regular dissertation, in which he compares Ariosto with Homer. Trissino, indeed, who was nearly contemporary with Ariosto, had taste and boldness enough to publish a poem written in profest imitation of the Iliad; but this attempt met with little regard or applause, for that very reason on which its real merit was founded; it was rejected as an insipid and unentertaining performance, having few devils or enchantments to recommend it. To Trissino succeeded Tasso, who, in his Gierusaleme Liberata, took the antients for his guides; but was, at the same time, too sensible of the prevailing taste for ideal beings, and romantic description, to omit them entirely; though he was well acquainted with, and fully convinced of the excellencies of Homer and Virgil, yet he still kept the old provencal poets in his eye; like his own Rinaldo, who after he had gaz'd on the diamond shield of truth, and while he was departing from Armida, and her enchanted gardens, could not help looking back upon them with some remains of fondness. Nor did Tasso's poem, though compos'd, in some measure, on a classical and uniform plan, gain its author (in his own country at least) any higher share of praise and reputation upon that account: Ariosto, with all his extravagancies, was still preferred; and the superiority of the Orlando Furioso to the Gierusaleme Liberata was at length establish'd by a formal decree of the Academicians della Crusca, who held a solemn court of enquiry concerning the merit of both poems.
In the midst of this bad taste, Spenser began to write his FAERIE QUEENE; which, after the practice of Ariosto, was to consist of allegories, enchantments, and romantic adventures, carried on by fairy knights, giants, magicians, and fictitious beings. It may indeed be urged, as an instance of Spenser's weak and undiscerning judgment, that he chose to follow Ariosto rather than Tasso, the plan and conduct of whose poem was much more regular and legitimate than that of his rival. To this objection it may be answered, in defence of our author, that he was reasonably induced to follow that poem which was most celebrated and popular: for tho' the French critics in general gave the preference to Tasso, yet in Italy the partisans, on the side of Ariosto, were by far the most numerous, and consequently in England; for Italy, in the age of queen Elizabeth, gave laws to our island in all matters of taste, as France has done ever since. It must, however, be confessed at the same time, that Spenser was in some measure influenced, from the natural biass of his mind, to prefer that plan, which would admit of the most extensive range for his unbounded imagination. What this plan is, and how it is conducted, we shall now proceed to examine.
See Spenser's letter to Sir W. Raleigh, &c.
The poet supposes, that the FAERIE QUEENE held a magnificent feast, (according to annual custom) which lasted twelve days; on each of which respectively, twelve several complaints are preferred before her: accordingly, in order to redress the injuries which were the occasion of these several complaints, she sends out twelve different knights, each of which, in the particular adventure allotted to him, proves an example of some particular virtue, as of Holiness, Temperance, Justice, Chastity, &c. and has one complete book assigned to him, of which he is the hero. But, besides these twelve knights, severally exemplifying twelve moral virtues, there is one principal knight, or general hero, viz. PRINCE ARTHUR; who represents Magnificence; a virtue which is supposed to be the perfection of all the rest; who assists in every book, the end of whose actions is to find out GLORIANA, or Glory, and in whose person the poet intends to pourtray,
"THE IMAGE OF A BRAVE KNIGHT PERFECTED IN THE TWELVE PRIVATE MORAL VIRTUES."
It is evident, that our author, in establishing one hero, who seeking and attaining one grand end, viz. GLORIANA, or Glory, should exemplify one grand character, viz. that of a brave knight perfected in the twelve private moral virtues, had the practice of Virgil and Homer in his eye. But tho' he was sensible of the importance and expediency of a unity of the hero and of his design, yet he does not, at the same time, seem convinced of the necessity of that unity of action, by which this design should be properly accomplished; nor sufficiently acquainted with the method of proceeding made use of by the two great originals abovementioned, in conducting their respective heroes to the one grand end proposed. It may be asked, with great propriety, how does ARTHUR execute this one grand ultimate design? It may be answered, with no less plausibility, that by assisting each patron of the twelve virtues respectively, in his allotted defence or patronage of each, ARTHUR approaches still nearer and nearer to Glory, 'till at last he obtains it, and so consummates the intended grand design. But surely to assist only is not sufficient to gain this end, or complete the proposed character. The poet ought to have made his ARTHUR the principal agent in the redress of each particular wrong, which arose from the various violation of Holiness, Temperance, Justice, Chastity, &c. If the hero had thus, in his own person, exerted himself in the service of all the twelve virtues, he might have been deservedly stiled the perfect pattern of them all, and consequently would then have completed the proposed grand end, viz. the attainment of Glory. At present he is only a subordinate, or rather accessory character; the difficulties and obstacles which he should have surmounted in order to gain the proposed end, are done to his hand, and removed by others; it is not he who conquers the dragon in the first book, (to instance in no other) or who quells the magician Busirane in the third; these are atchievements executed by St. George and by Britomart. In short, the twelve several knights, or patrons, do too much for ARTHUR to do any thing, or at least what may reasonably be expected from the plan of the poet; while we are attending to the design of the hero of the book, we forget that of the hero of the poem. Mr. Dryden remarks,
"We must do Spenser that justice to observe, that magnanimity [magnificence] which is the true character of PRINCE ARTHUR, shines throughout the whole poem; and succours the rest when they are in distress."
Dedication to Juvenal.
If the magnanimity of PRINCE ARTHUR did in reality shine throughout the whole poem with a steady and superior lustre, our author would stand excused; but at present it breaks forth but seldom, in dim and interrupted flashes; it is not like the pervading spirit of Virgil, which
—
Agitat molem, & magno se corpore miscet.
Aen. vi. ver. 727.
And to
"succour the rest when they are in distress,"
is a circumstance of too little importance in the hero of a poem: "to succour" is, in fact, a service to be perform'd in the cause of the hero, by some dependent and inferior chief, the business of a Gyas or a Cloanthus, a Mnestheus, or a Serestus.
Upon the whole, and in general, it must be observed, that Spenser's adventures, which are the subject of each single book, have no mutual dependance upon each other, and consequenly do not contribute to constitute one legitimate poem; and Mr. Hughes, not considering this, has advanced a remark in commendation of Spenser, which may most properly be turned to his censure.
"If we consider the first book as an entire work of itself, we shall find it to be no irregular contrivance: there is one principal action, which is completed in the twelfth Canto, and the several incidents are proper, as they tend either to obstruct or promote it."
Remarks on the Fairy Queen. Hughes's edit. of Spenser's works, vol. 1.
As the heroic poem is required to be one WHOLE, compounded of many various parts depending upon, and relative to each other; so it is expedient, that not one of those parts should be so regularly contriv'd, and so completely finished, as to become a WHOLE of itself. For the mind being thus once satisfied in arriving at the completion of an orderly series of events, acquiesces in that satisfaction, and its attention and curiosity are diverted from pursuing, with due vigour, the final and general catastrophe; whereas while each part is left imperfect, I mean, incomplete, if disjoined or separated from the rest, the mind still desirous and eager of gratifying its expectations, is irresistibly and imperceptibly drawn on from part to part, till it receives a full and ultimate satisfaction from the accomplishment of one great event, which all those parts, following and illustrating each other, contributed to produce.
Our author was probably aware, that by constituting twelve several adventures for twelve several knights, a want of continuity and general concatenation of facts would be laid to his charge; and upon this account, I suppose, he sometimes begins a story in one book, the completion of which he defers, not without much interruption, to some future and distant book; a proceeding, which unavoidably occasions much confusion to the reader. And it seems to be for the same reason, that, after one of the twelve knights has fulfilled the adventure of his book, he introduces him, in the next book; acting, perhaps, in an inferior light, and degraded to some less dangerous adventure; a conduct which destroys that repose which the mind feels after having accompanied a hero, thro' various distresses and difficulties, to success and victory. Besides, when we view the hero entering upon an inferior attempt, our former admiration is diminished; having seen him once nobly and decisively conquer, we become so warmly interested in his honour, that we look upon his engagement in any posterior enterprise (however successfully) which is less arduous than that of which we had just before hail'd him the conqueror, as derogatory to that glory which he had just acquired by such a conquest. Spenser, perhaps, would have embarassed himself and the reader less, had he made every book one entire detached poem, without any the least reference to the rest. Thus he would have written twelve distinct poems, in all of which, he might have completed the pattern of a particular virtue in twelve knights respectively; at present, he has remarkably failed in endeavouring to represent all the virtues completed in the character of one. The poet must either have established TWELVE KNIGHTS without an ARTHUR, or an ARTHUR without TWELVE KNIGHTS. Upon supposition that Spenser was resolved to characterise the twelve moral virtues, the former plan, perhaps, would have been best: the latter must necessarily want simplicity, as it is an action consisting of twelve actions, all equally great, and unconnected between themselves; and not an action consisting of one uninterrupted and coherent chain of incidents tending to the accomplishment of one design.
It has been observ'd before, that our author endeavoured to express the character of a knight perfected in the twelve moral virtues, by representing him as assisting in the service or defence of each, till at last he becomes possessed of all: this plan, however, injudicious, he certainly was obliged to observe; but in the third book, which is stiled the legend of Chastity, PRINCE ARTHUR doth not so much as lend his assistance in the protection or vindication of that virtue; he appears indeed, but not as an auxiliary in the adventure of the book.
It must, however, be confessed, that there is something artificial in the poet's manner of varying from historical precision; a conduct which may be best illustrated from his own words.
"But because the beginning of the whole work seemeth abrupt, and as depending upon other antecedents, it needs that ye know the occasion of these three knights several adventures. For the method of a poet historical, is not such as of an historiographer. For an historiographer discourseth of affairs orderly, as they were done, accounting as well the times as the action; but a poet thrusteth into the middest, even where it most concerneth him, and there recoursing to the things forepast, and divining of things to come, maketh a pleasing analysis of all. The beginning therefore of my history, were it to be told by an historiographer, should be in the twelfth book, which is the last; where I devise, that the FAERIE QUEENE held her annual feast twelve days; upon which twelve several days, the occasion of twelve several adventures happened: which being undertaken by twelve several knights, are, in these twelve books, severally handled and discoursed.
Letter to Sir W. Raleigh.
It appears, from this quotation, that Spenser had finished but three books, when this letter was written.
"
Thus according to this plan the reader would have been agreeably surprised, in the last book, when he came to discover, that all the adventures which he had just gone through, were undertaken at the command of the FAERIE QUEENE, and that all the knights had severally set forward to the execution of them from her annual birth-day festival; but Spenser, in most of his books, has injudiciously forestalled the first of these particulars; which certainly should have been concealed till the last book, not only to have prevented a needless repetition of the same thing, but that he might likewise secure an opportunity to himself of amusing the reader's mind with a circumstance new and unexpected.
But notwithstanding the plan and conduct of our author, in the poem before us, is highly exceptionable, yet I am apt to think, that the FAERIE QUEENE is not, upon the whole, so confused and irregular as the Orlando Furioso. Though there is no general unity in the former, yet if we consider every book or adventure as a separate poem, we shall meet with so many distinct, however imperfect, unities, by which means the reader is less bewildered, than by that general indigested medley of which the former totally consists, and in which we meet with neither partial, nor universal unity.
—
Cum nec pes nec caput
UNI
Reddatur
FORMAE.—
Hor. art poet. v. 13.
The very idea of celebrating the MADNESS of an hero, carries with it somewhat extravagant and absurd. Orlando doth not make his appearance till b. 8. where he is placed in a situation not very heroic; he is first discovered to us in bed, desiring to sleep. His ultimate design is to find Angelica, but his pursuit of her is broken off in b. 30; after which there are sixteen more books to come, and in which Angelica disappears. Other heroes are likewise engaged in the same pursuit. After reading the first stanza of b. 1. one would be inclined to think, that the subject of the poem was the expedition of the Moors into France, under their emperor Agramante, to fight against Charlemayne; but this matter is the least part of the poem. In fact, many of the knights perform exploits equal, if not superior to those of Orlando; and particularly Rogero, with a grand atchievement of wholn the poem is closed, viz. his killing Rodomont; but this event is not the completion of a story carried on principally through the whole work. The author passes from one incident to another, and from region to region (whether it be from England to the Hesperides, or from the earth to the moon) with such incredible swiftness and rapidity, that one would think he was mounted upon his own winged steed Ippogrifo. He begins a tale of a knight in Europe, and suddenly breaks it off to resume the unfinished catastrophe of another in Asia. The imagination of the reader is not so much involv'd in, as it is oppressed with the multiplicity of stories, in the relation of each of which the poet is at the same time equally engaged. To remedy this inconvenience, it was thought proper to affix, in some of the editions, marginal hints, informing the reader in what book and stanza the poet would recommence some interrupted episode; an expedient not more inartificial than that which the first painters were obliged to make use of, in order to assist their want of skill, who having drawn the figure of a man, a bird, or a quadruped, found it necessary to write underneath the name of the kind to which the thing represented belonged. However, this method has been the means of giving the reader a clear comprehension of Ariosto's tales, which otherwise he could not have obtained without much difficulty. This poet is seldom read twice in order; that is, by passing from the first canto to the second, and from the second to the rest successively; but by persuing (without any regard to the order of the books, or the stanzas) the different stories, which though all somewhere finish'd, yet are, at present, so mutually interwoven, that the incidents of one are perpetually clashing with those of another. The ingenious Abbé Du Bos
Reflexions, &c. c. 34.
observes happily enough, that
"Homer is a geometrician in comparison of Ariosto:"
And, indeed, his miscellaneous matter cannot be better expressed than by the two first verses of his Exordium.
Le Donne, i Cavallier, l'arme, gli amori,
Le Cortesie, l'audaci imprese, io canto.
C. i. S. 1.
Of dames, of knights, of armes, of love's delight,
Of courtesies, of high attempts, I sing.
Harrington.
But, to return. Though the FAERIE QUEENE does not exhibit that oeconomy of plan, and exact arrangement of parts which Epic severity requires, yet we scarcely regret the loss of these, while their place is so amply supplied, by something which more powerfully attracts us, as it engages the affection of the heart, rather than the applause of the head; and if there be any poem whose graces please, because they are situated beyond the reach of art, and where the faculties of creative imagination delight us, because they are unassisted and unrestrained by those of deliberate judgment, it is in this of which we are now speaking. To sum up all in a few words; tho' in the FAERIE QUEENE we are not satisfied as critics, yet we are transported as readers.
SECT. II. Of Spenser's Imitations from old Romances.
ALthough Spenser formed his FAERIE QUEENE upon the fanciful plan of Ariosto, as I remarked in the preceding section, yet it must be confessed, that the adventures of Spenser's knights are a more exact and immediate copy of those which we meet with in old romances, or books of chivalry, than they are of those of which the Orlando Furioso consists. Ariosto's knights exhibit very surprising instances of their prowess, and atchieve many heroic actions; but our author's knights are more particularly engaged in revenging injuries, and doing justice to the distressed; which was the proper business, and ultimate end of the antient knight-errantry. And thus though many of Spenser's incidents and expedients are to be found in Ariosto, such as that of blowing a horn, at the sound of which the gates of a castle fly open, of the vanishing of an enchanted palace or garden, after some knight has destroyed the enchanter, and the like, yet these are not more peculiarly the property of Ariosto, than they are common to all antient romances in general. Spenser's first book is, indeed, a regular and precise imitation of such a series of action as we frequently meet with in books of chivalry: For instance, a king's daughter applies to a knight, that he would relieve her father and mother, who are closely confined to their castle, upon account of a vast and terrible dragon, that had ravaged their country, and perpetually laid in wait to destroy them. The knight sets forward with the lady, encounters a monster in the way, is plotted against by an enchanter, and after surmounting a variety of difficulties and obstacles, arrives at the country which is the scene of the dragon's devastations, kills him, and is presented to the king and queen, whom he has just delivered; marries their daughter, but is soon obliged to leave her, on account of fulfilling a former vow. It may be likewise observed, that the circumstance of each of Spenser's twelve knights, setting out from one place, by a different way, to perform a different adventure, exactly resembles that of the seven knights proceeding forwards to their several expeditions, in the well-known romance, entitled the Seven Champions of Christendom. In fact, these miraculous books were highly fashionable, and that chivalry, which was the subject of them, was still practiced, in the age of queen Elizabeth.
See Hollingshead's Chronicles, vol. iii. p. 1315.
Among others, there is one romance which Spenser seems more particularly to have made use of: It is entitled MORTE ARTHUR,
The Lyf of Kyng Arthur, of his noble Knyghtes of the round table, and in thende the dolorous deth of them all.
This was translated into English from the French, by one Sir Thomas Maleory, Knight, and printed by W. Caxton, 1484
This Book has been reprinted twice or thrice. The last Edition is dated 1634.
. From this fabulous history our author has borrow'd many of his names, viz. Sir Tristram, Placidas, Pelleas, Pellenore, Percivall, and others. As to Sir Tristram, he has copied from this book the circumstances of his birth and education with much exactness. Spenser informs us that Sir Tristram was born in Cornwall, &c.
And Tristram is my name, the only heire
Of good king Meliogras, which did raigne
In Cornewaile.
6. 2. 28.
And afterwards.
—The countrie wherein I was bred
83
The which the fertile Lionesse is hight.
ibid. St. 30.
Which particulars are drawn from the romance abovemention'd.
"There was a knight Meliodas [Meliogras] and he was lord and king of the country of Lyones—and he wedded king Markes sister of Cornewale."
The issue of which marriage, as we are afterwards told, was Sir Tristram
Book ii. chap. i.
. Mention is then made in our romance, of Sir Tristram's banishment from Lyones into a distant country, by the advice, and under the conduct of a wise and learned counsellor named Governale. A circumstance alluded to by Spenser in these verses.
So taking counsel of a wise man red,
She was by him adviz'd, to send me quight
Out of the countrie, wherein I was bred,
The which the fertile Lionesse is hight.
6. 2. 30.
Sir Tristram's education is thus describ'd below.
St. 31.
All which my dayes I have not lewdly spent,
Nor spilt the blossom of my tender yeares
In ydlesse, but as was convenient,
Have trained bene with many noble feres
In gentle thewes, and such like semely leres;
'Mongst which my most delight has always beene
To hunt the savage chace among my peres
Of all that raungeth in the forest greene,
Of which none is to me unknowne that e'er was seene.
XXXII.
Ne is there hawke that mantleth her on pearch
Whether high-towring, or accoasting lowe,
But I the measure of her flight do search,
And all her pray, and all her dyet knowe.
Which is agreeable to what is said in the romance. After mention being made of Tristram's having learned the language of France, courtly behaviour, and skill in chivalry, we have the following passage.
"As he growed in might and strength, he laboured ever in hunting and hawking; so that we never read of no gentleman, more, that so used himselfe therein.—And he began good measures of blowing of blasts of venery [hunting] and chase, and of all manner of vermeins; and all these termes haves we yet of hawking and hunting: and therefore the booke of venery, of hawking and hunting, is called THE BOOKE OF SIR TRISTRAM
Book ii. chap. 3.
."
And in another place King Arthur thus addresses Sir Tristram.
"For of all manner of hunting thou bearest the prise; and of all measures of blowing thou art the beginner; and of all the termes of hunting and hawking ye are the beginner.
B. ii. c. 91.
"
From this romance our author also took the hint of his BLATANT BEAST; which is there call'd the QUESTING BEAST.
"Therewithall the King saw comming towards him the strangest beast that ever he saw, or heard tell off.—And the noyse was in the beasts belly like unto the
Questyn
of thirtie couple of houndes."
The QUESTING BEAST is afterwards more particularly described.
"That had in shap an head like a serpent's head, and a body like a liberd, buttocks like a lyon, and footed like a hart; and in his body there was such a noyse, as it had been the noyse of thirtie couple of houndes
Questyn,
and such a noyse that beast made wheresoever he went."
B. ii. c. 53.
Spenser has made him a much more monstrous animal than he is here represented to be, and in general has varied from this description; though there is one circumstance in Spenser's representation, in which there is a resemblance, viz.—speaking of his mouth,
And therein were a thousand tongues empight,
Of sundry kindes, and sundry qualities,
Some were of dogs that barked night and day.
And some, &c.—
6. 12. 27.
So dreadfully his hundred tongues did bray,
5. 12. 41.
By what has been hitherto said, perhaps the reader may not be persuaded, that Spenser, in his BLATANT BEAST, had the QUESTING BEAST of our romance in his eye; but the poet has himself taken care to inform us of this: for we learn, from the romance, that certain knights of the round table were destined to pursue the QUESTING BEAST perpetually without success: which Spenser hints at in these lines.
Albe that long time after Calidore,
The good Sir Pelleas him tooke in hand,
And after him Sir Lamoracke of yore,
And all his brethren borne in Britaine land,
Yet none of these could ever bring him into band.
6. 12.
Sir Lamoracke, and Sir Pelleas are two very valourous champions of Arthur's round table.
This romance likewise supplied our author with the story of the mantle made of the beards of knights, and locks of ladies; which last circumstance is added by Spenser.
For may no knight or ladie passe along
That way (and yet they needs must passe that way)
By reason of the streight and rocks among,
But they that ladies lockes do shave away,
And that knights berd for toll, which they for passage pay.
6. 1. 13.
Afterwards,
His name is Crudor, who through high disdaine,
And proud despyght of his selfe-pleasing mynd,
Refused hath to yeald her love againe,
Untill a mantle she for him do find,
With berds of knights, and lockes of ladies lynd.
6. 3. 15.
Thus in MORTE ARTHUR.
"Came a messenger—saying, that king Ryence had discomfited, and overcomen eleaven knights, and everiche of them did him homage; and that was this; they gave him their beards cleane flayne of as much as there was: wherefore the messenger came for king Arthur's berd: for king Ryence had purfeled a mantell with king's beards, and there lacked for one place of the mantell. Wherefore he sent for his berd; or else hee would enter into his lands, and brenn and sley, and never leave, till he have thy head and beard."
B. 1. c. 24.
After this passage we have an
This is also printed in P. Enderbury's CAMBRIA TRIUMPHANS, p. 197.
antient ballad, the subject of which is this insolent demand of king Ryence. Drayton, in his Polyolbion, speaks of a coat composed of the beards of kings: he is celebrating king Arthur.
As how great Rithout's self, he slew in his repair
And ravisht Howel's niece, young Helena the fair,
And for a trophie brought the giant's coat away,
Made of the beards of kings.—
Song 4.
But Drayton, in these lines, manifestly alludes to a passage in Geoffrey of Monmouth; who informs us, that a Spanish giant, named Ritho, having forcibly conveyed away from her guard Helena the niece of duke Hoel, possessed himself of St. Michael's Mount in Cornwall, from whence he made frequent sallies, and committed various outrages; that, at last, king Arthur conquered this giant, and took from him a certain coat, which he had been composing of the beards of kings, a vacant place being left for king Arthur's beard.
Orig. & Gest. Reg. Brit. B. 10, 13.
As Spenser has copied many other fictions from MORTE ARTHUR, I apprehend that he drew this from thence, and not from Geoffrey of Monmouth; not to mention, that Spenser's circumstances tally more exactly with those in the romance.
There is great reason to conclude, not only from what has already been mention'd concerning Spenser's imitations from this romantic history of king Arthur and his knights, but from some circumstances which I shall now produce, that it was a favorite and reigning romance about the age of queen Elizabeth; or at least one very well known and much read at that time. Spenser in the Shepherd's Calendar has the following passage.
And whither rennes this bevie of ladies bright
Raunged in a row?
They been all LADIES OF THE LAKE behight,
That unto her go.
Aprill.
Upon the words LADIES OF THE LAKE, E. K. the old commentator on the pastorals has the following remark.
"LADIES OF THE LAKE be nymphes: for it was an old opinion among the antient Heathens, that of every spring and fountaine was a goddesse the soveraine; which opinion stucke in the minds of men not many years since by meanes of certain fine fablers, or loose lyers; such as were the authors of KING ARTHUR the great.—Who tell many an unlawfull leesing of the LADIES OF THE LAKE."
These fine fablers or loose lyers, are the authors of the romance above-mention'd, viz. MORTE ARTHUR, where many miracles are brought about, and much enchantment is carried on by the means and interposition of the LADY OF THE LAKE. Now it should be observed, that the LADY OF THE LAKE was introduc'd to make part of queen Elizabeth's entertainment at Kenelworth; as an evidence of which I shall produce a passage from an antient book entitled
"A letter, wherein part of the entertainment untoo the queens majesty at Killingworth-castl in Warwick-sheer in this soomers progress, 1575, is signified."
The passage is this.
"Her highness all along this tilt-yard rode unto the inner gate, next the baze coourt of the castle: whear the LADIE OF THE LAKE (famous in KING ARTHUR'S BOOK) with too nymphes wayting upon her, arrayed all in sylkes, attended her highnes comming, from the midst of the pool, whear upon a moveable island bright-blazing with torches she floting to land, met her majesty with a well-penned meter, and matter, after this sorte; first of the auncientee of the castl; who had been owners of the same e'en till this day, most allways in the handes of the earles of Leycester; how she had kept this lake syns king Arthur's dayes, and now understanding of her highnes hither comming, thought it both offis and duety; to discover, in humble wise, her, and her estate, offring up the same, hir lake, and power thearin; with promis of repair to the court. It pleas'd her highnes to thank this lady, &c."
Gascoyne
Works, London, 1576.
in a little narrative called the
"Princely Pleasures of Kenelworth Castle,"
gives us some of the above-mention'd metre, written by Ferrers, one of the contributors to the mirror of magistrates, of which these may serve as a specimen.
I am the lady of this pleasant lake,
Who since the time of great king Arthur's reigne,
That here with royall court aboade did make,
Have led a lowring life in restless paine;
'Till now that this your third arrival here,
Doth cause me come abroad, and boldly thus appeare.
For after him such stormes this castle shook,
By swarming Saxons first, who scourgde this land
As forth of this my poole I neer durst looke, &c.
She is afterwards introduc'd complaining to the queen, that sir Bruse had insulted her for doing an injury to Merlin, (an incident related in MORTE ARTHUR); and that he would have put her to death had not Neptune deliver'd her, by concealing her in that lake; from which confinement the queen is afterwards suppos'd to deliver her, &c.
Without expatiating upon the nature of such a royal entertainment as this, I shall observe from it that the LADY OF THE LAKE (and consequently the romance which supply'd this fiction) was a very popular character in the reign of queen Elizabeth; and we may add, that it is not improbable that Spenser might allude in the above-cited verses to some of the circumstances in this part of the queen's entertainment; for queen Elisabeth, the Fayre Elisa, is the lady whom the LADIES OF LAKE are represented as repairing to, in that eclogue
Spenser's pastorals were published about four years after this entertainment.
. Nor is it improbable that this lady was often exhibited upon other occasions. Nor is it improper to remark in this place that Ben. Johnson has introduced her, together with king Arthur and Merlin, in an entertainment before the court of James I. called PRINCE HENRIES BARRIERS.
The above antient letter acquaints us, that the queen was entertain'd with a song from this romance, which is another proof of it's popularity at that time.
"A minstrall came forth with a sollem song warranted for story out of king Arthur's acts the first book, 24. whereof I gat a copy, and that is this,
"So it fell out on a pentecost day
"When king Arthur, &c."
This is the song above hinted at, where mention is made of king Rience demanding the beard of king Arthur. In the same letter a gentleman who shew'd some particular feats of activity before the queen, is said to be
"very cunning in fens, and hardy as Gawen."
Which Gawen was king Arthur's nephew, and whose atchievements are highly celebrated in MORTE ARTHUR.
We find Spenser in another place alluding to the fable of the lady of the lake so much spoken of in this romance.
—A little while
Before that Merlin dyde, he did intend
A brasen wall in compas to compyle
About Cairmardin, and did it commend
Unto these sprights to bring to perfect end;
During which time, the LADIE OF THE LAKE,
Whom long he lov'd, for him in haste did send,
Who therefore forst his workmen to forsake,
Them bound till his returne, their labour not to slake.
3. 3. 9.
X.
In the meane time thro' that false ladies traine
He was surpris'd and buried under beare,
Ne ever to his worke return'd againe.
These verses are obscure, unless we consider the following relation in MORTE ARTHUR.
"The LADY OF THE LAKE and Merlin departed; and by the way as they went, Merlin shewed to her many wonders, and came into Cornewaile. And alwaies Merlin lay about the ladie for to have her favour; and she was ever passing wery of him, and faine would have been deliver'd of him; for she was afraid of him, because he was a divells son, and she could not put him away by no meanes. And so upon a time it hapned that Merlin shewed to her in a roche [rock] whereas was a great wonder, and wrought by enchauntment, which went under a stone, so by her subtile craft and working she made Merlin to go under that stone, to let him wit of the marvailes there. But she wrought so there for him, that he came never out, for all the craft that he could doe."
B. i. c. 60.
Our author has taken notice of a superstitious tradition, which is related at large in this romance.
—Good Lucius
That first received christianitie,
The sacred pledge of Christs evangelie:
Yet true it is that long before that day
Hither came Joseph of Arimathie,
Who brought with him the HOLY GRAYLE, they say,
And preacht the truth; but since it greatly did decay.
2. 10. 53.
The HOLY GRAYLE, that is the real blood of our blessed Saviour. What Spenser here writes GRALE, is often written SANGREAL, or
St. grale
in MORTE ARTHUR, and is there said to have been brought into England by Joseph of Arimathea. Many of king Arthur's knights are there represented as going in quest, or in search of the SANGREAL, or SANGUIS REALIS. This expedition was one of the first subjects of the old romance.
This romance seems to have extended its reputation beyond the reign of queen Elizabeth. B. Johnson, besides his allusion to it in the LADY OF THE LAKE mention'd above, hints at it more than once:
Had I compil'd from Amadis de Gaule,
Th'Esplandians, ARTHURS, Palmerins, &c.
An execration upon Vulcan, in the Underwood.
And afterwards, in the same poem,
—The whole summe
Of errant knighthood; with the dames and dwarfes,
The charmed boates, and the enchanted wharfes,
The TRISTRAMS, LANC'LOTTS, &c.
And Camden
REMAINS, printed 1604. Artic. names.
refers to this history of king Arthur, as to a book familiarly known to the readers of his age. Speaking of the name TRISTRAM, he observes,
"I know not whether the first of this name was christned by king Arthur's fabler."
Again, of LAUNCELOT he speaks,
"Some think it to be no ancient name, but forged by the writer of king Arthur's history, for one of his douty knights:"
and of GAWEN,
"A name devised by the author of king Arthur's table."
To this we may add, that Milton manifestly hints at it in the following lines,
—Damsels met in forrests wide
By knights of Logris, or of Lyones,
Lancelot, Pelleas, or Pellenore.
Par. Reg. B. ii, v. 359.
These are Sir Lancelot (or Sir Meliot) of Logris; Sir Tristram of Lyones, and king Pellenore, who are often mention'd in MORTE ARTHUR, and represented as meeting beautiful damsels in desolate forrests: and probably he might have it in his eye when he wrote the following, as the round table is expressly hinted at.
Siquando indigenas revocabo in carmina reges,
Arturumque etiam sub terris bella moventem,
Aut dicam
INVICTAE
sociali faedere
MENSAE
Magnanimos Heroas.
—
MANSUS.
To which we may subjoin,
—What resounds
In fable, or romance, of Uther's son,
Begirt with British, and Armoric knights.
Parad. Lost, 1. v. 579.
Before I leave this romance, I must observe, that Ariosto has been indebted to it; I do not mean, to the old translation, which Spenser made use of. He has drawn his enchanter Merlin from it, and in these verses refers to a particular story concerning him, quoted above. Bradamante is suppos'd to visit the tomb of Merlin.
Questa è l'antica, e memorabil grotta,
Ch' edificò Merlino il savio mago,
Che forse recordare odi tal'hotta,
Dove inganollo la
DONNA DEL LAGO,
Il sepolcro è qui giu, dove corotta
Di satisfare a lei, che gliel suase,
Giace la carne sua, dove egli vago
Vivo corcossi, e morto ci rimase.
C. 3. 10.
Thus translated by Harrington,
Heere is the tombe that Merlin erst did make
By force of secret skill, and hidden art,
In which sometimes the lady of the lake
(That with her beauty had bewitcht his hart)
Did force him enter fondly for her sake;
And he was by a woman over-reached
That unto others prophesied, and preached.
XII.
His carkas dead within this stone is bound.
This description of Merlin's tomb (says Harrington in a marginal note) is out of the BOOK OF KING ARTHUR. Ariosto has transferr'd the tomb from Wales into France. He afterwards feigns, that the prophetical sculpture in Malagigi's cave was perform'd by Merlin's enchantment.
Merlino il savio incantator Britanno
Fe for la fonte, al tempo dil re Arturo,
E di cose, ch'al mondo hanno a venire
La fe da buoni artefici scolpire.
C. 26. 39.
XXXV.
—These whose names appear
In marble pure, did never live as yet,
But long time hence, after six hundred yeare,
To their great praise in princely throne shall sit;
Merlin the English prophet plast them here
In Arthurs time.
Harrington.
He also mentions some of the names of the knights of our romance; when Renaldo comes into Great-Britain, the poet celebrates that island for its atchievements in chivalry, and as having produc'd many brave knights,
—Tristano
Lancillotto, Galasso, Artu, e Galuano.
C. 4. S. 52.
Afterwards, in b. 32. Tristram makes a great figure. From this romance is also borrow'd Ariosto's tale
C. 42. 98.
of the enchanted cup; which, in Caxton's old translation, is as follows.
"By the way they met with a knight, that was sent from Morgan le Faye to king Arthur; and this knight had a faire horne all garnished with gold; and the horne had such a virtue, that there might no ladie or gentlewoman drink of that horne, but if shee were true to her husband; and if shee were false, shee should spill all the drinke; and if shee were true unto her lord, shee might drink peaceably, &c."
B. 2. c, 34.
Afterwards many tryals are made with this cup. The inimitable Fontaine has new-moulded this story from Ariosto, under the title of
La coupe enchanteé.
As it is manifest, from a comparison of passages, that Ariosto was very conversant in this romance; so I think it may be granted, that he drew the idea of his Orlando running mad with jealousy from it. In MORTE ARTHUR, Sir Lancelot, out of a jealous fit, is driven to madness, in which state he continues for the space of two years, performing a thousand ridiculous pranks, no less extravagant than those of Orlando; and, like him, at length he recovers his senses.
I had forgot to remark before, that our author has borrow'd the name of Materasta's castle from that of Lancelot in MORTE ARTHUR.
—the goodly frame
And stately port of CASTLE JOYEOUS.
3. 1. 31.
Lancelot's castle is styl'd JOYOUS GARD, or castle.
There is another antient romance (for so it may be called, though it is written in verse) which Spenser apparently copies, in prince Arthur's combat with the dragon: it will be necessary to transcribe the whole passage.
It fortuned (as faire it then befell)
Behind his back (vnweeting) where he stood
Of auncient time there was a springing well,
From which fast trickled forth a siluer flood,
Full of great vertues, and for med'cine good.
Whylome, before that cursed dragon got
That happy land, and all with innocent blood,
Defil'd those sacred waves, it rightly hot
The well of life: ne yet his vertues had forgot.
For, unto life the dead it could restore,
And guilt of sinful crimes cleane wash away;
Those that with sicknesse were infected sore,
It could recure, and ages long decay
Renew, as it were borne that very day.
Both Silo this, and Iordan did excell,
And th'English bath, and eke the German Spau,
Ne can Cephise, nor Hebrus match this well:
Into the same, the knight (backe overthrowen) fell.
Now gan the golden Phoebus for to steepe
His fierie face in billowes of the west,
And his faint steeds watred in Ocean deep,
Whiles from their iournall labours they did rest;
When that infernall monster, hauing kest
His weary foe into that liuing well,
Gan high advaunce his broad discoloured brest
Aboue his wonted pitch, with countenance fell,
And clapt his iron wings, as victor he did dwell.
Which when his pensiue lady saw from farre,
Great woe and sorrow did her soule assay;
As weening that, the sad end of the warre,
And gan to highest God entirely pray,
That feared chance from her to turne away;
With folded hands and knees full lowely bent
All night she watcht, ne once adowne would lay
Her dainty limbs in her sad dreriment,
But praying still did wake, and waking did lament.
The morrow next gan early to appeare,
That Titan rose to runne his daily race:
But early ere the morrow next gan reare
Out of the sea faire Titans deawy face.
Vp rose the gentle virgin from her place,
And looked all about, if she might spy
Her loued knight to moue his manly pase:
For, shee had great doubt of his safety,
Since late she saw him fall before his enemy.
At last she saw, where he vpstarted braue
Out of the well, wherein he drenched lay;
As Eagle fresh out of the Ocean waue,
Where he hath left his plumes all hoary gray,
And deckt himselfe with feathers youthly gay,
Like eyas hauke vp mounts vnto the skies,
His newly-budded pineons to assay,
And marvailes at himself, still as he flies:
So new, this new-borne knight to battell new did rise.
Whom, when the damned fiend so fresh did spy,
No wonder if he wondred at the sight,
And doubted, whether his late enemy
It were, or other new supplied knight.
He, now to prove his late renewed might,
High brandishing his bright deaw-burning blade,
Vpon his crested scalpe so sore did smite,
That to the scull a yawning wound it made:
The deadly dint his dulled senses all dismaid.
I wote not, whether the reuenging steele
Were hardned with that holy water dew
Wherein he fell, or sharper edge did feele,
Or his baptized hands now greater grew;
Or other secret vertue did ensew;
Else, never could the force of fleshly arme,
Ne molten metall in his bloud embrew:
For, till that stound could never wight him harme,
By subtiltie, nor sleight, nor might, nor mighty charme.
1. 11. 29.
This miraculous manner of healing our author drew from an old poem, entitled, Sir Bevis of Southampton, viz.
"What for weary, and what for faint
"Sir Bevis was neere attaint:
"The dragon followed on Bevis so hard,
"That as he would have fled backward,
"There was a well as I weene,
"And he stumbled right therein.
"Then was Sir Bevis afraid and woe,
"Lest the dragon should him sloe:
"Or that he might away passe,
"When that he in the well was.
"Then was the well of such vertu
"Through the might of Christ Jesu,
"For sometime dwelled in that land
"A virgin full of Christes sand,
"That had been bathed in that well,
"That ever after, as men can tell,
"Might no venomous worme come therein,
"By the virtue of that virgin,
"Nor nigh it seven foot and more:
"Then Bevis was glad therefore,
"When he saw the Dragon fell
"Had no power to come to the well.
"Then was he glad without faile,
"And rested awhile for his availe,
"And drank of the water of his fill,
"And then he leapt out of the well,
"And with Morglay, his brand
"Assailed the Dragon, I understand:
"On the Dragon he strucke so fast, &c.
After which the Dragon strikes the knight with such violence, that he falls into a swoon, and tumbles as it were lifeless into the well, by whose sovereign virtue he is reviv'd.
"When Bevis was at the ground
"The water made him whole and sound,
"And quenched all the venim away,
"This well saved Bevis that day.
And afterwards,
"But ever when Bevis was hurt sore,
"He went to the well and washed him thore;
"He was as whole as any man,
"And ever as fresh as when he began.
It may be observ'd, that this poem of Sir Bevis is written in that short measure, which was frequently sung to the harp in queen Elizabeth's time: a custom which descended from the antient bards. The author of the arte of English poesie, printed 1589, thus speaks of it.
"So on the other side doth the over-busie and too speedy returne of one manner of tune, too much annoy, and, as it were, glut the eare, unless it be in small and popular musickes song by these cantabanqui upon benches and barrels heads, where they have none other audience than boyes, or country fellowes, that passe by them in the streete; or else by blind harpers, or such like taverne-minstrels, that give a fit of mirth for a groat; and their matters being, for the most part, stories of old time; as, the tale of Sir Topas, the Reportes of Bevis of Southampton, Guy of Warwicke, Adam Bell, and Clymme of the Clough, and such other old romances or historicall Rhymes, made purposely for recreation of the common people at Christmasse diners, and brideales; and in tavernes, and alehouses, and such other places of base resort: also they be us'd in carols and rounds, and such light or lascivious poemes, which are commonly more commodiously uttered by these buffoons and VICES in plays, than by any other person: such were the rimes of Skelton (usurping the name of a poet laureate) being in deede but a rude rayling rimer, and all his doings ridiculous; he used both short distaunces and short measures, pleasing only the popular eare; in our courtly MAKER we banish them utterly."
B. ii. c. 9.
Hence it appears, that Chaucer was, at that time, sung to the harp; for the tale, or rime, of Sir Thopas is a poem of Chaucer now extant: so the Italians, at present, sing Tasso and Ariosto. Adam Bell and Clym of the Clough were two famous archers: the former of which is, on that account, alluded to by Shakespeare.
The same author, in another place, speaks of this kind of entertainment, by which one would think that it was not always confin'd to such a vulgar audience.
"We ourselves, who compiled this treatise, have written for pleasure, a little brief romance, or historical ditty, in the English tong, of the isle of Great-Britaine, in short and long meeters; and by breaches or divisions to be more commodiously sung to the harpe in places of assembly, where the company shall be desirous to hear of old adventures, and valiaunces of noble knights in times past; as are those of king Arthur, and his knights of the round table; Sir Bevys of Southampton, Guy of Warwicke, and such other like."
B. i. c. 19.
The circumstance of the Dragon not being able to approach within seven feet of this well, is imitated by our author St. 49. below, where another water is mentioned, which in like manner preserves the knight.
"But nigh thereto the ever-damned beast
"Durst not approache, for he was mortal made,
"And all that life preserved did detest,
"Yet he it oft adventur'd to invade.
Tho' we feel somewhat of an ill-natur'd pride, and a disingenuous triumph, in having detected the latent and obscure source, from whence an admired and original author has drawn some favorite and celebrated description; yet it must be confess'd, that this is soon overwhelmed by a generous and exalted pleasure, which naturally flows from contemplating the chymical energy of true genius, which can produce so wonderfull a transmutation, and whose virtues are not less potent, efficacious, and vivifying in their nature, than those of the miraculous water here described.
It should be mention'd in this place, that Spenser, in his Dragon-encounters, follows the incidents made use of by the romance-writers, with all the punctuality of a close copyist.
As to Spenser's original and genealogy of the Fairy nation, I am induc'd to believe, that part of it was supply'd by his own inexhaustible imagination, and part by some fabulous history. He tells us, B. ii. c. 10. S. 70. that man, as first made by Prometheus, was called ELFE, who wandring through the world, at last arriv'd at the gardens of Adonis, where he found a female, whom he called FAY; that the issue of these two were called Fairies, who soon grew to be a mighty people, and conquer'd all nations. That their eldest son Elfin govern'd America, and the next to him, named Elfinan, founded the city of Cleopolis, which was enclos'd with a golden wall by Elfiline. That his son Elfine overcome the Gobbelines; but that, of all Fairies, Elfant was most renowned, who built Panthea of Crystall.—To these succeeded Elfar, who kill'd two brethren-giants; and to him Elfinor, who built a bridge of glass over the sea, the sound of which was like thunder. At length Elficleos rul'd the Fairy land with much wisdom, and highly encreas'd its honour: he left two sons, the eldest of which, fair Elferon, died an immature death, and whose place was supply'd by the mighty Oberon, whose wide memorial (continues our author) still remains, and who dying, left Tanaquil to succeed him by will, who is likewise called Glorian, or GLORIANA.
In the circumstance of Elfinel, who overcame the Gobbelines, he plainly alludes to the faction of the Guelfes and Gibbelines in Italy; and his friend and commentator E. K. remarks,
Eclogue, June.
that our Elfes and Goblins were deriv'd from those two parties Guelfes and Gibelines. But in the latter part of this relation, under the fictitious names of these ideal beings, he has adumbrated some of our English princes. Elficleos is king Henry VII, whose eldest son Arthur died at sixteen years of age; and whose youngest son Oberon, that is, Henry VIII, succeeded to the crown, marrying, about the same time, his brother Arthur's widow, the princess Katherine; which is what Spenser more particularly hints at in these lines,
Whose emptie place the mighty Oberon,
Doubly supply'd in SPOUSALL and DOMINION.
St. 75.
The same of this king was very recent in our author's age.
It is remarkable that Spenser says nothing of Edward VI. and queen Mary, who reigned between Henry VIII. and queen Elizabeth, but that he passes immediately from Oberon to Tanaquill, or GLORIANA, i. e. queen Elizabeth, who was excluded from her right by those two intermediate reigns.
He dying left the fairest Tanaquill,
Him to succeed there by his last will:
Fairer and nobler liveth none this howre.
St. 75.
And the reader may observe, that there is much address and art in the poet's manner of making this omission. There is so much confusion in Spenser's series of this fairy people, that it is difficult to determine, whether or no he has here allegorised any other English reign. However in Elfant who laid the foundation of Cleopolis, he may signify king Lud, as it appears, by another place, that Cleopolis is London,
Till now, said then the knight, I weened well,
That great Cleopolis where I have been,
In which the fairest FAERIE QUEENE doth dwell.
The fairest FAERIE QUEENE is queen Elizabeth: and by the lines that immediately follow, it should seem that Panthea is the queen's palace,
—The fairest citie was that might be seene,
And that bright towr all built of crystall cleene,
PANTHEA.—
1. 10. 58.
But this idea of the crystall tower, and of the golden wall, and bridge of glass, &c. mention'd above, seem to be some romantic tradition. As to his FAERIE QUEENE, the notion of such a personage was very common; Chaucer in his Rime of Sir Thopas speaks of her, together with a fairy land; and Shakespere who was universally conversant in popular superstition, has introduc'd her in his Midsummernight's Dream. She was suppos'd to have held her court in the highest magnificence in the days of king Arthur, a circumstance by which the happiness of that reign was originally represented in the romantic annals of it.
Thus Chaucer.
In the old dayis of the king Arthure,
(Of which the Britons speken great honour)
All was this lond fulfillid of Fayry,
The Elf-QUENE with her jolly company
Daunsid full oft in many a grene mede,
This was the old opinion as I rede.
The wife of Bath's tale, 857.
The reader is desir'd to take notice, that in numbering any passage from Chaucer's Cant. Tales, we have follow'd Urry's scheme.
Thus Spenser follow'd the popular tradition in supposing his
It appears from John Marston's Satires, entitled, The SCOURGE OF VILLANIE,
Three Bookes of Satyres,
and printed in the year 1598, that our author's FAERIE QUEENE, occasioned many publications in which Fairies were the principal actors, viz.
Go buy some ballad of the FAERY KING.
In Lectores.
And in another Place.
—At length some wonted sleepe doth crowne
His new-falne lids; dreams, straight tenne pound to one
Out-steps some FAERY with quick motion,
And tells him wonders of some flowrie vale—
Awakes, straite, rubs his eyes, and prints his tale.
B. 3. sat. 6.
And I have seen a romance which seems to have been written soon after Spenser's poem, entitled, The RED-ROSE KNIGHT; where the knight, after the example of prince Arthur, goes in search of the Fairy Queen.
The satires above-mention'd contain many well-drawn characters, and several good strokes of a satirical genius, but are not upon the whole so finished and classical as bishop Hall's, the first part of which were publish'd about a year before these. Among other passages the following struck me, as being a good deal in the strain of the beginning of Milton's L'Allegro.
Sleepe, grim reproof; my jocond muse doth sing
In other keyes to nimble fingering;
Dull sprighted melancholy leave my braine,
To hell, Cimmerian night! in lively vaine
I strive to paint; then hence all darke intent,
And sullen frowns; come sporting merriment,
Cheeke-dimpling laughter, &c.
B. 3. Sat. 10.
From these satires we may learn also how popular a play Romeo and Juliet was in those days.
He is speaking to a wit of the town.
Luscus, what's playd to day?—faith now I know
I sett thy lips abroach, from whence doth flow
Nought but pure JULIET, and ROMEO.
Ibid.
Langbaine (Dram. Poets pag. 351.) informs us, that these satires (now forgotten) render'd Marston more eminent than his dramatic poetry. Two years after these, viz. 1600, another collection of satires appear'd written by W. Rowlands, which are by no means contemptible. These are entitled,
The Letting
of
Humours Blood in the Head-vaine.
So that bishop Hall was not without some followers in the species of poetry which he had newly reviv'd.
FAERIE QUEENE to exist in the age of Arthur. In Chaucer we find that fairy land, and Fairies were us'd in a more general sense for an ideal place and people. Thus in the marchants tale.
Pluto that is king of FAYRIE.
And above,
Proserpine, and all her FAYRIE.
This fiction of the Fairies was undoubtedly brought with many other fantastic extravagancies of the like nature from the Eastern nations, by the European Christians, who had been at the holy war; and those expeditions were some of the first subjects of romance; as an admirable judge of this matter observes; who farther informs us;
"Nor were the monstrous embellishments of enchantments, &c. the invention of the romancers, but form'd upon Eastern tales, brought thence by travellers from their crusades and pilgrimages; which indeed have a cast peculiar to the wild imagination of the Eastern people."
Supplement to the translator's preface, before Jarvis's Don Quixote.
The Persians call the Fairies Peri; and the Arabs Ginn; and they feign, that there is a certain country inhabited by them, called Ginnistian, which corresponds to our Fairy-land. Our old romantic history supposes that Arthur still reigns in Fairy-land, from whence he will one day return to Britain, and re-establish the round table, &c. Thus Lydgate,
He is a king ycrounid in Fairie;
With scepter, and sword, and with his regally,
Shall resort as lord and soveraigne
Out of Fairie and reigne in Britaine;
And repaire again the old round table,
By prophecy Merlin set the date, &c.
Fall of Princes. B. 8. Ch. 24.
Many other instances might be alledged, from which it would be more abundantly manifested, that the imagination of our author was deeply tinctur'd with that species of writing with which his age was so intimately acquainted, and so generally delighted: but we have, perhaps, been already sufficiently prolix in a disquisition, which to the lovers of Spenser, cannot appear altogether unentertaining; a disquisition, affording that kind of information, which, though it does not improve the judgment, will gratify the curiosity. And if there should be any readers, who, disgusted with the ideas of knights, dragons, and enchanters, should, after perusing the FAERIE QUEENE, address the author of it, as cardinal d'Este did Ariosto, after reading his Orlando,
"
Dove, Diavolo, Messer
Lodovico,
avete pigliate tante coglionerie? Where the Devil, and did you pick up all these lies?
"
I beg those gentlemen will look upon this section as a sufficient answer to that question.
SECT. III. Of Spenser's use and abuse of antient history and mythology.
AS Spenser sought to produce surprise by extravagant incidents, and fantastic descriptions, the mythology of the antients afforded matter no less copious than suitable for such a design. He has accordingly adopted some of their most romantic fictions, in many of which he has departed from the received tradition, as his purpose and subject required. And, indeed, with regard to our author's misrepresentation of the fables of antiquity, it may be observed, that from those arguments which are produced against his fidelity, new ones may be drawn in favour of his fancy. Spenser's native force of invention would not permit him to pursue the letter of prescribed fiction with tame regularity and scrupulous exactness. In many particulars he varies from antiquity merely that he may introduce new beauties, and frequently mentions one or two circumstances of antient fable, not so much with a design of adorning his poem with them, as of taking an opportunity from them, of raising a new fiction of his own. He sometimes, indeed, misrepresents these matters through haste; his allusions to antient history are likewise very frequent, which in many instances he has not scrupled to violate, with equal freedom, and for the same reasons.
B. i. c. i. S. xxxvii.
A bold bad man that dar'd to call by name
Great Gorgon.—
Mr. Jortin has cited many instances, by which it appears, that the antients were most superstitiously fearfull of uttering the name of Gorgon, or Daemogorgon. It may not be impertinent to remark, that they were no less afraid of calling the furies by their names.
Electra, in Euripides, says of the furies that tormented her brother.
—
.
Orestes, v. 37.
—Vereor enim nominare
Deas Eumenidas, quae eum certatim perterrent.
And in another scene Orestes says,
.
Visus surn mihi videre tres puellas nocti similes.
Whom Menelaus answers,
.
Ibid. v. 480.
Novi quas dixisti; nominare autem nolo.
Below we have the same superstition concerning Hecate; for which it would be difficult, perhaps, to bring any antient testimony,
And threatned unto him the dreaded name
Of Hecate—
St. 43.
Either that her name was fear'd in general, or that Morpheus was particularly afraid of uttering, or of hearing it. Our author, with great strength of fancy, has feign'd such a circumstance as this of Merlin.
The fiends do quake, when any him to them does name.
3. 3. 11.
Though perhaps this is not more expressive of Merlin's diabolical power than what Olaus Magnus mentions of that of a Swedish enchanter, viz. That he could blunt the edge of the weapons of his enemies only by looking at them; and that he could make hell a light place.
B. i. C. iv. S. 30.
He is describing Envy,
—still did chaw
Betweene his cankred teeth a venemous toad,
That all the poyson ran about his jaw.
Ovid
Met. ii. v. 760.
tells us, that Envy was found eating the flesh of vipers, which is not much unlike Spenser's picture. But our author has heighten'd this circumstance to a most disgusting degree; for he adds, that the poyson ran about her jaw. This is, perhaps, one of the most loathsom ideas that Spenser has given us, though he paints very strongly (as Jortin observes) B. i. i. 20.
—She spewd out of her filthy maw
A flood of poyson horrible and black;
Full of great lumps of flesh and gobbets raw,
Which stunk so vilely that it forc'd him slack
His grasping hold.—
As also in the discovery of Duessa, 1. 8. 47. 48. He is also very indelicate where he speaks of Serena's wounds.
For now her wounds corruption 'gan to breed.
6. 5. 31.
See also 7. 7. 31. and 7. 7. 40. In reality, the strength of our author's imagination could not be suppress'd or kept in on any subject, and in some measure it is owing to the fullness of his stanza, and the frequency of his rhymes, that he has describ'd these disagreeable objects so minutely. But to return to his Envy. This personage is again introduc'd, 5. 12. 29. chawing a snake, of which circumstance a most beautiful use is there made, St. 39.
Then from her mouth the gobbet she does take
The which whyleare she was so greedily
Devouring; even that half-gnawen snake
And at him throwes it most despitefully:
The cursed serpent, tho' she hungrily
Earst chaw'd thereon, yet was not all so dead,
But that some life remained secretly,
And as he past before withouten dread,
Bit him behind, that long the mark was to be read.
It may be urg'd, that Spenser drew the thought of her throwing the Snake at him, from Alecto's attack upon Amata.
Huic Dea caeruleis unum de crinibus anguem
Conjicit, inque sinus praecordia ad intima condit.
Aen. vii.v.346.
But Spenser's application of this thought, is surely a much greater effort of invention than the thought itself. The malignity both of Envy, and of her Snake, could not have been exprest is more significant strokes; tho' the snake was her constant food, yet she was tempted to deprive herself of sustenance, that she might cast it at him; and tho' the snake by being thus constantly fed upon was almost dead, yet it's natural malignity enabled it to bite him violently.
B. i. C. v. S. xxxix.
—His rash sire began to rend
His haire, and hastie tongue that did offend.
Theseus did not rend his tongue upon this occasion. Mr. Jortin would excuse our author for his false representation of this matter, by supposing an elleipsis, viz.
he began to rend his hair, and (to blame or curse) his
tongue. Tho' Spenser is full of elleipses, yet he seldom has been guilty of such a one as this; I should therefore think this passage ought not to be refer'd to Spenser's Elleipses, but to that fault which he so frequently commits, the fal
ication of antient story. Besides the words
that did offend
join'd to
hastie tongue,
seem to be given by the poet as an express reason why he rent it.
B. i. C. vi. S. xiv.
Sylvanus is here introduced,
—His weake steps governing
And aged limbes on cypresse stadle stout.
I do not remember that Sylvanus is any where describ'd as infirm with old age; neither did he use a cypress-tree for the purpose here mentioned, which was a young plant torn up by the roots, and carried in his hand. Virgil addresses him,
—
Teneram ab radice ferens, Sylvane, cupressum.
Georg. i.v.20.
B. i. C. vii. S. xvii.
—That renowned Snake
Which great Alcides in STREMONA slew,
Long-fostred in the filth of LERNA lake.
Hercules slew the Hydra in the lake of Lerna, between Mycenae and Argos. Stremona is no where to be met with, which probably he put for Strymon, a river of Macedonia in the confines of Thrace. But to read Strymon here, would no more help out the sense, than it would the measure.
B. ii. C. iv. S. xli.
—Sonne of Erebus and Night.
Spenser is just to mythology in representing Erebus and Night as married. In another place this address is made to Night.
—Black Erebus thy husband is—
3. 4. 55.
In these lines of Milton,
Hence loathed melancholy
Of CERBERUS and blackest midnight born.
Mr. Upton would read EREBUS for Cerberus: the alteration is indeed ingenious; and to his defence of it he might have added, that Milton, in one of his juvenile Latin poems, has shewn his knowledge of this mythological point, viz.
Nox
senis amplexus
EREBI
taciturna petivit.
After all, it is not improbable but that Milton might write CERBERUS: full of the idea of the loathsomness of melancholy, he seems to have chosen out the most detestable parents for her that his imagination could suggest, CERBERUS and MIDNIGHT; and it should be observed, that he does not say Midnight simply, but
blackest Midnight,
an epithet by which he strongly marks out his abhorrence of the offspring of so foul a pair, and the consistency and propriety of her being leagu'd with Cerberus.
Our author is likewise true to mythology in what he says of Night, in the following verses,
O thou most antient grandmother of old,
More old than Jove, whom thou at first didst breed.
1. 5. 22.
Thus Orpheus, in his hymn to Night,
,
.—
Noctem deorum genitricem cantabo, atque hominûm,
Nox genetrix omnium.
—
He afterwards says of her,
Which wast begot in Daemogorgon's hall,
That is in Chaos, who is the parent of Night, according to Hesiod.
.
Theog. 123.
A Chao autem Erebus, atraque nox gignebantur.
Spenser makes Night the mother of Falshood, which is agreeable to Hesiod.
—Though I the mother be
Of Falshood.—
S. 27. below.
.—
Ibid. 224.
Nox perniciosa post illam fraudem peperit.
Spenser gives Night a chariot, for which he has the authority of many antient poets. Theocritus,
—
.
Aen. 5, 721.
Virgil,
Jam bigis subvecta polum nox atra tenebat.
b. 3.
Apollonius mentions the horses of Night,
.—
Idyll. 2. 165.
As does Tibullus,
Ludite, jam nox jungit Equos.
—
2. 1.
I have often thought, that what Spenser says of the horses of night, tempted Milton to go farther, and give them names.
Thus Spenser,
And cole-black steeds yborne of hellish broode
That on their rustie bits did champ as they were wood.
1. 5. 20.
And afterwards,
Her twyfold teme, of which two black as pitch,
And two were brown, yet each to each unlich.
1. 5. 28.
Milton's lines are these,
Nox senis amplexus Erebi taciturna reliquit,
Praecipitesque impellit equos, stimulante flagello;
Captum oculis Typhlonta, Melanchaetemque ferocem,
Atque Acherontaeo prognatam patre Siopem
Torpidam, & hirsutis horrentem Phrica capillis.
In Quintum Novembris, v. 151.
Tho' at the same time it is probable, that he thought of the horses of the Sun, which are nam'd in Ovid. Milton, in the same poem, had an eye to another passage in our author; who having describ'd the personages, that sate by the high-way leading to hell, adds this fine image,
And over them sad Horror with grim hew
Did alwaies sore, beating his iron wings.
2. 7. 2.
Milton, after describing some of the same personages, adds,
—
Exanguisque locum circumvolat horror.
Ibid. v.148.
Among these personages, Milton's description of Phonos, or murder (whom he couples with Prodotes, or treason) is remarkably beautifull.
Ipsi etiam pavidi latitant penetralibus antri
Et Phonos & Prodotes, nulloque sequente per antrum,
Antrum horrent, scopulosum, atrum feralibus umbris
Diffugiunt sontes, & retro lumina vertunt.
But I think is equall'd by Fletcher's figure of Phonos, in his forgotten poem, called the Purple Island.
Last of this rout the savage PHONOS went,
Whom his dire mother nurst with human blood,
And when more age and strength more fiercenesse lent,
She taught him in a dark and desart wood,
With force and guile poore passengers to slay,
And on their flesh his barking stomack stay,
And with their wretched blood his fiery thirst allay.
Ten thousand furies on his steps awaited,
Some sear'd his hardned soul with Stygian brand,
Some with black terrors his faint conscience baited,
That wide he star'd, and starched hair did stand;
The first-borne man still in his minde he bore,
Foully array'd in guiltlesse brother's gore,
Which for revenge to heav'n from earth did loudly roar.
Cant. 7. St. 69, 71.
It is observable, that this little poem of Milton, as containing a council, conspiracy, and attempt of Satan, may look'd upon as an early prelusion of his genius to the subject of the paradise lost.
B. ii. C. vii. S. 53.
The garden of Proserpina this hight;
And in the midst thereof a silver seat
With a thick arbour, &c.
Next thereunto did growe a goodly tree.
On this tree, he adds, grew golden apples; and that from this likewise sprung the tree of the Hesperides; but these circumstances, as also that of Proserpina's garden, &c. is, I think, not to be justified from antient writers. He afterwards informs us, that the golden apples by which Acontius won Cydippe, and that which Ate threw among the Gods, were gather'd from this tree: but these, as we learn from many passages in the Classics, were the produce of the Hesperian tree abovemention'd. He then tells us, that the branches of this tree overspread the river Cocytus, in which Tantalus was plung'd up to the chin, who was perpetually catching at its fruit, in which he copies Homer, in some measure; who acquaints us, that many trees of delicious fruit wav'd over the lake in which Tantalus was plac'd; but it does not appear, from him, that Tantalus was fix'd in Cocytus, but in some lake peculiarly appropriated to his punishment.
.—
Spenser has also made another use of Cocytus, viz. that the shores of Cocytus perpetually resounded with the shrieks of damned ghosts, who underwent an everlasting punishment by being dipt in its waters. Cocytus, indeed, says antient fable, must be past, before there is any possibility of arriving at the infernal regions; but we do not find, that it was a punishment allotted to any of the ghosts, to be thus plung'd into its waves; nor that this circumstance was the cause of the cries which echoed around its banks.
What he has invented of Cocytus, exhibits a fine image: he supposes, that when Sir Guyon came to this river,
—He clomb up to the bank
And looking downe sawe many damned wights
In those sad waves; which direfull deadly stanke,
Plonged continually of cruel sprights,
That with their pittious cries, and yelling shrights,
They made the further shore resounden wide.
St. 57.
The antients tell us, that the golden apple, for which the goddesses strove on mount Ida, was pluck'd in the garden of the Hesperides; but Spenser's allegorising imagination feigns, that it grew in hell. He might probably receive the hint of this tree with the golden apples from Homer's mention of various trees which grew in hell, near the lake of Tantalus, hinted at above; but the silver stool beneath it is entirely his own, which Mammon persuades the knight to seat himself upon, and is A NEW CIRCUMSTANCE of TEMPTATION.
—Thou fearfull foole,
Why takest not of that same fruit of gold;
Ne sittest downe on that same silver stoole,
To rest thy weary person in the shadow coole?
St. 63.
After all, as the mythology of the Pagans was their religion, the violation of it is hardly excusable.
B. ii. C. xii. S. xlvii.
They in that place him GENIUS do call:
Not that coelestial powre, to whom the care
Of life and generation over all
That lives, pertaines in charge particular,
Who wondrous thinges concerning our welfare,
And strange phantomes does let us oft foresee.
XLVIII.
Therefore a God him sage antiquity
Did wisely make, and good Agdistes call,
But this same was to that quite contrary,
The foe of life, that good envies to all,
That secretly doth us procure to fall
Through guilefull semblaunts which he makes us see.
These lines may be farther illustrated from the following passage in
Natalis Comes.
"Dictus est autem GENIUS, ut placuit latinis, a gignendo, vel quia nobiscum gignatur, vel quia illi procreandorum cura divinitus commissa putaretur. Hic creditur nobis clam nunc suadens, nunc dissuadens, universam vitam nostram gubernare.—Nam existimantur Genii Daemones rerum, quas voluerint nobis persuadere, spectra & imagines sibi tanquam in speculo imprimere, quodcunque illis facillimum sit. In quae spectra cum anima nostra clam respexerit, illa sibi veniunt in mentem, quae si ratione perpendantur, tum recta fit animi deliberatio: at si quis posthabibita ratione, malorum spectrorum & visorum ductu feratur, ille in multos errores incurrat necesse est, si spectra fuerint praecipue a malignis daemonibus oblata.
4. 3.
"
That the first Genius here mention'd was likewise called Agdistes, we learn from the same author.
"Quem postea Agdistem appellarunt."
ibid.
The ceremony of offering flowers and wine to the Genius exprest in these lines,
With diverse flowres he daintily was deckt,
And strowed round about, and by his side
A mighty mazer bowle of wine was sett,
As if it had to him been sacrifide.
S. 49.
Is found in Horace,
—piabant
Floribus & Vino GENIUM memorem brevis aevi.
Epist. 2. B. 2. v. 143.
The Genius spoken of in the following stanzas, seems to be that which is represented in the PICTURE of Cebes.
And double gates it had, which open'd wide,
By which both in and out men moten pass;
Th' one faire and freshe, the other old and dride:
OLD GENIUS the Porter of them was,
OLD GENIUS, the which a double nature has.
3. 6. 31.
XXXII.
He letteth in, he letteth out to wend,
All that to come into the world desire:
A thousand thousand naked babes attend
About him day and night, which doe require,
That he with fleshlie weedes would them attire.
,
&c.
Cernitis, inquit, septum hoc? Cernimus. Hoc primùm Vobis tenendum est, locum hanc appellari Vitam; & magnam multitudinem, quae portae assistit, eos esse qui in Vitam venturi sunt. Senex is qui superne stat, chartam quamdam una manu tenens, altera vero quiddam quasi monstrans, Genius dicitur. Mandat autem ingredientibus, quid eis ubi in vitam venerint, faciendum sit.
The Third Booke of the FAERIE QUEENE; containing the legend of BRITOMARTIS, or of CHASTITY.
Britomartis, among the Cretans, was another name for Diana, the goddess of Chastity; and in this book Spenser's Britomartis is represented as the patroness of Chastity. It is not improbable, as our author has copied the greatest part of the second Canto of this book from the Ceiris of Virgil, that he learn'd, from the same poem, that Britomartis was a name for Diana, viz.
Dictynnam dixere
tuo
de nomine Lunam.
v. 305.
She was a Cretan nymph, and the daughter of Jupiter and Charme, whom Virgil has introduced, in his Ceiris, as the nurse of Scylla, and from whom our author has copied his Glauce, Britomart's nurse, in the Canto mentioned above. She was called Dictynna, because she invented nets for hunting, which being also one of Diana's names, Britomartis and Diana were look'd upon as the same. Callimachus speaks of her as one of the nymphs of Diana's train, but observes, that she was called by the Cydonians, Dictynna. He has left us the history of Britomartis in his hymn to Diana.
.
,
,
,
.—
v. 189.
Praecipuè autem inter alias omnes Gortynida amasti Nympham,
Cervarum Venatricem, Britomartin, Jaculatricem; cujus olim Minos
Amore perculsus, pervagatus est montes Cretae.
Illa vero alias quidem hirtis sub quercubus latitabat Nympha,
Alias autem in locis uliginosis. At ipse novem menses percurrebat
Loca praerupta, & pendentes scopulos: nec intermisit insectationem,
Donec apprebensa ferme Nympha insiliit mare
Ab alto Vertice: insiliit autem in piscatorum
Retia quae ipsam conservarunt: hinc deinceps Cydones
Nympham ipsam, Dictynnam; montem vero unde desiliit Nympha
Dictaeum appellitant: excitatisque ibi sacris
Sacra etiam faciunt.
—
Upon the word
, says the scholiast,
.
And Solinus speaks to the same effect.
"Cretes Dianam religiosissimè venerantur
gentiliter nominantes, quod sermone nostro sonat virginem dulcem."
Polstyhi. C. 17.
But tho' Spenser in Britomartis had some reference to Diana, yet at the same time he intended to denote by that name the martial BRITONESSE.
The reader is desired to take notice, that the passage which Spenser has copied from the Ceiris of Virgil begins at this verse of that poem.
Quam simul Ogygii Phoenicis Filia Charme.
Ver. 223.
And ends at,
Despue ter Virgo, numero deus impare gaudet.
Ver. 373.
B. iii. C. vi. S. 30.
Speaking of the garden of Adonis,
In that same garden all the goodly flowres,
Wherewith dame nature doth her beautifie,
Are fetcht; there is the first seminarie,
Of all things that are born to live and die.
In his description of this garden he might probably have an eye to the notion of the antients concerning Adonis, that he represented the sun which quickens the growth of all things. Thus Orpheus, in his Hymn to Adonis,
,
,
.
Others represent him as the seed of wheat. Thus the scholiast of Theocritus, after having informed us, that Adonis after his death remained six months in the embraces of Venus, and six months with Proserpine.
.
Apud Idyll. 3. v. 48.
"Hoc re vera ita se habet: scilicet, quod Adonis frumentum est satium: quod sex menses sub terra degit; & sex menses eum habet Venus; nimirum Aeris temperies; & postea a messoribus colligitur."
Orpheus, in the same hymn, calls the body of Adonis,
—
.
Corpus frugiferum.
He has placed Cupid and Psyche in this garden, where they live together in
—stedfast love and happy state.
St. 50.
But Apuleius represents this happy state of Cupid and Psyche to have commenced after their reception into Heaven. However, their offspring, Pleasure, is agreeable to what Apuleius relates,
"Sic ecce Psyche venit in manum Cupidinis; & nascitur illis maturo partu filia, quam VOLUPTATEM nominamus."
Metam. b. 6.
He has made Pleasure the daughter of Cupid in another place; speaking to Love,
There with thy daughter Pleasure they do play
Their hurtlesse sports.—
Hymne of love.
B. iii. C. xi. S. xlvii.
Of the statue of Cupid.
—Wings it had with sundrie colours bright
More sundry colours than the proud Pavone
Beares in his boasted fan, or Iris bright,
When her discolour'd bowe she spreads thro' heaven bright.
Cupid was represented by the antients with particolour'd wings, as we learn (among others) from this passage quoted by Mr. Jortin, from an epigram ascrib'd to Virgil,
Marmoreusque tibi
DIVERSICOLORIBUS
alis
In morem picta stabit Amor pharetra.
But this picturesque circumstance was probably supply'd by our author's fancy. In the Pastorals, March, he draws Cupid after the same manner,
With that sprung forth a naked swaine
With spotted wings like Peacocke's traine.
Thus also of love, in the next Canto, St. 23.
And clapt on hie his coloured winges twaine.
In the comparison of the Peacock and the Rainbow, (as they occur together) he probably imitated Tasso.
Ne'l superbo
PAVON
si vago in monstra
Spiega la pompa de l'occhiute piume,
Ne l'
IRIDE
si bella indora, e inostra
Il curvo grembo, e rugiadoso al lume.
Gier. Lib. B. 16. S. 24.
The jolly Peacock speads not half so fair
The eyed feathers of his pompous train;
Nor so bends golden Iris in the air,
Her twenty colour'd bow thro' clouds of rain.
Fairfax.
Spenser's
proud Pavone
is literally Tasso's
superbo Pavon.
He has again join'd these two comparisons; Speaking of a Butterfly's wings.
Not halfe so many sundry colours arre
In Iris bowe—
Nor Juno's bird in her eye-spotted traine,
So many goodly colours doth containe.
Muipotmos.
Where eye-spotted traine is plainly the
occhiute piume
of the Italian poet.
Chaucer, in one of his figures of Cupid, supposes that his wings were adorn'd with rich plumage.
And ANGELIKE his wingis saw I sprede.
Leg. of G. Wom. v.236.
B. iii. C. xii. S. vii.
And every wood and every valley wide
He fill'd with Hylas name; the nymphes eke Hylas cride.
Most of the antient writers who relate the story of Hylas, mention the circumstance of Hylas's name being often re-echo'd by the hills, &c. when it was so loudly and frequently call'd upon by Hercules; but I do not recollect that any of them speak of the nymphs as repeating his name. With regard to the former particular, Antonius has given us an explication of it, not generally known, from the
of Nicander.
"Hercules (says he) having made the hills and forrests tremble, by calling so mightily on the name Hylas; the nymphs who had snatch'd him away, fearing lest the enraged lover should at last discover Hylas in their fountain, transformed him into Echo, which answer'd
Hylas
to every call of Hercules."
This solution throws a new light on the circumstance of Hylas's name being so often eccho'd back, and which is particularly insisted on by Virgil, Eclog. 6. v. 44. by Propertius, in his Elegy De Raptu Hylae, 1. 20. and by Valerius Flaccus, b. 7. v. 593. On account of the many invocations of his name, said to be made by Hercules, and of its being so often re-eccho'd, I suppose a custom, mention'd by Solinus, was every year celebrated on the banks of the lake Hylas.
In cujus [Hylae] memoriam usque adhuc solenni cursitatione lacum populus circuit, & Hylam Voce clamat.
Polyhist. cap. 44.
The distress of Hercules, after he had lost Hylas, is finely described by Valerius Flaccus, 3. 565. & seq. and the manner by which Hylas is decoy'd to the fountain is a pretty poetical fiction. v. 545. Upon the whole, I am induced to think, that Apollonius has much more beautifully describ'd this story than Theocritus. It is remarkable, that Scaliger, who, in general, prefers Flaccus to his original Apollonius, should thus express himself of the comparison concerning the anguish felt by Hercules on the occasion of losing Hylas, which occurs in both poets, (after quoting the Latin of Flaccus)
Haec quidem sonora magis; plus tamen arrident Graeca.
Poet. B. 5. C. 6.
B. iv. C. x. S. xlvii.
The poet is addressing Venus,
Great GOD of men and women—
Mr. Jortin observes, that Venus is called GOD in Virgil.
Descendo, ac ducente
DEO
flammam inter & hostes
Expedior.
—
Aen. 2. v. 632.
Where Servius:
DEO,
secundum eos, qui dicunt utriusque sexus participationem habere numina; nam ait Calvus.
Pollentemque
DEUM
Venerem
—
To this it may be added, that the poet prepares the reader for the appellation GOD, apply'd to Venus, St. 41. above, in his description of the statue of that goddess.
But, for they say she hath both kinds in one,
Both male and female, both under one name:
She sire and mother is herself alone,
Begets and eke conceives, ne needeth other none.
He has also follow'd the same notion, in Colin Clouts Come Home Again.
For Venus selfe doth solely couples seeme,
Both male and female thro' commixture joyn'd.
B. v. C. i. S. xii.
But when she parted thence she left her groome
An yron man which did on her attend,
Alwayes to execute her stedfast doome,
And willed him with Arthegall to wend,
And do whatever things he did intend:
His name was TALUS, made of iron mould,
Immoveable, resistless, without end;
Who in his hand an iron flail did hold,
With which he thresht out falsehood, and did truth unfold.
The character of executing justice, here attributed to Talus, is exactly agreeable to that which he bears in antient story; nor has Spenser greatly varied from antiquity in the make of this wonderfull man; for he is there said to be form'd of brass, and by our author of iron. Plato gives the following account of him.
.
In Minoe. Plat. Op. Edit. Serran. pag. 320. vol. 1.
Utebatur autem Minos hoc legum suarum custode apud urbem; in caeteris vero Cretae partibus Talo. Et profectò Talus ter in anno vicos circuibat legibus tuendis intentus in illis; quas habebat in aeneis tabulis inscriptas; unde nuncupatus est Talus.
As to the circumstance of Talus's traversing the isle of Crete, it exactly corresponds with what Spenser says afterwards of his iron man, who did the same in Ierne.
And that same yron man, which could reveale
All hidden crimes, thro' all that realme he sent,
To search out those that us'd to rob and steale,
Or did rebell 'gainst lawfull government.
6. 12. 26.
Plato has told us, that Talus was called brazen, on account of his carrying the laws about with him, written in brazen tables; but Apollonius informs us, that he was actually made of brass, and invulnerable.
.
. B. 4. v. 1645.
Sed is cum caetero corpore & membris esset
Aeneus, & invulnerabilis, tamen sub tenonte habebat
In malleolo turgentem sanguine venam, quam tenuis
Continebat tunicula, & vitae praestabat mortisque confinium.
Apollonius likewise takes notice of his circuiting Crete three times a year.
.
Ibid. v. 1646.
Ter in anno Cretam aeneis obeuntem pedibus.
Apollodorus will further illustrate this matter.
.
Bibliothec. b. 1. c. 26.
Exinde navigantes prohibentur quò minùs Cretae appellerent a Talo; hunc quidam aenei generis hominum esse dicunt; illi a Vulcano Minoi traditum fuisse: erat autem Homo aheneus: sunt autem qui eum Taurum nominant. Habebat verò venam unam a cervice usque ad crura protensam: in tuniculâ vero venae aeneus infigebatur clavus. Talus iste ter. unoquoque Die insulam percurrens eam contuebatur.
This marvellous swiftness of Talus is likewise refer'd to by our author,
His yron page, who him pursew'd so light,
As that it seem'd above the ground he went,
For he was swift as swallow in her flight.
5. 1. 20.
And is alluded to by Catullus, in his Ode to Camerius, where he tells him that he should not be able to pursue him,
Non
CUSTOS
si ego fingar ille
CRETUM.
Car. 56.
Orpheus (or rather
Who liv'd in the time of the Pisistratic tyranny, about Olymp. 60. For a proof that the Agonautics, attributed to Orpheus, are the work of Onomacritus, see Voss. de Poet. Graec. c. 2. and c. 4. & Olai Borrichii Dissert. de Poet. Graec. Dissert. 1. Par. 17.
Onomacritus) calls TALUS, in his Argonautics,
.—
. v. 1348.
"The brazen-triple giant."
The circumstance of the iron flail is added from our author's imagination.
B. v. C. viii. S. xlvii.
Like raging Ino when with knife in hand
She threw her husband's murdred infant out.
Ovid reports, Met. 4, that Ino threw herself, with her son Melicerta, from the top of a rock into the sea. Others say that she murdred Melicerta, and after that leapt into the sea. It is difficult to fix upon Spenser's precise meaning in these verses.
Ibid.
Or as that madding mother, 'mongst the rout
Of Bacchus' priests her own deare flesh did teare.
The madding mother is Agave. Her son Pentheus being of a very temperate disposition, and consequently averse to the rites of Bacchus, she, together with the rest of the Maenades, tore him in pieces in the midst of the Bacchanalia. Mr. Upton, instead of,
—Her
owne
dear flesh did teare,
would read, her SON'S dear flesh. But surely the poet (and that with no great impropriety of expression) might mean her
Son
's flesh, by her
owne
flesh.
B. v. C. x. S. x.
Orthrus begotten by great Typhaon,
And fowle Echidna—
who guarded the purple oxen of Geryon. I wonder that Spenser should in this place omit the mention of a seven-headed dragon, who, together with Orthrus, was placed to guard these oxen, and was likewise the offspring of Typhaon and Echidna.
B. iv. C. xi. S. xiii.
He is giving a catalogue of the Sea Gods; among the rest is Astraeus,
—that did shame
Himselfe with incest of his kin unkend.
Natalis Comes thus relates the story of Astraeus.
"Astraeus qui per inscitiam congressus cum Alcippe sorore, sequenti die cognita affinitate ex annulo, maerore captus se in fluvium praecipitavit, qui prius dictus est Astraeus ab ipso, &c."
2. 8.
Of these afterwards, S. 17.
But why doe I their names seeke to reherse,
Which all the world have with their issue fill'd?
How can they all in this so narrow verse
Contained be, &c.
Natalis Comes having finish'd his catalogue of these divinities, adds,
Ut alios infinitos prope praetermittam; nam plures quàm octoginta me legisse memini.
Spenser probably took his catalogue from this mythologist; I think he has given us no names (Albion excepted) but what are found in that author; and besides the account of Astraeus above-mention'd, we find Spenser's Euphemus copied from him.
And faire Euphemus that upon them goth,
As on the ground without dismay or dread.
S. 14.
N. Comes.—
Euphemus—cui Munus dedit ut super undis tanquam super terrâ proficisceretur.
Ibid.
B. iv. C. xi. S. xix.
—So wise is Nereus old
And so well skill'd: nathlesse he takes great joy,
Oft-times among the wanton nymphes to sport and toy.
Of the justice and prophetical power of Nereus, Mr. Jortin has produc'd antient testimonies. This last part of his character may be illustrated from these lines in Orpheus,
,
.—
Quinquaginta puellis laetate, in fluctibus,
Elegantibus choris, Nereu.
B. vi. C. x. S. 22.
Speaking of the Graces,
They are the daughters of sky-ruling Jove,
By him begot of faire Eurynome.
Milton, in his L'Allegro, represents the Graces as the offspring of Venus and Bacchus. This mythology (as an ingenious critic on that passage observes) without doubt suits the nature of Milton's subject better; but I can hardly think that such a liberty is allowable upon any occasion. The mention of Eurynome, in this stanza of our author, puts me in mind of another passage in Milton, where this Goddess is likewise mention'd.
And fabled how the serpent whom they call'd
Ophion with Eurynome, the wide
Encroaching Eve perhaps, had first the rule
Of high Olympus, &c.
Par. L. B. 10. v. 580.
Which, as the learned Dr. Newton and others observe, is copied from these verses of Apollonius,
.
. B. 1. v. 496.
What I have to observe here, is, that Apollonius, as well as Milton, has hinted, that Ophion was of the serpent-race: which will appear from considering what goes before these lines.
Spenser alludes to this song of Orpheus, and the occasion upon which it was sung, more than once.
Such one was Orpheus, that when strife was grown
Amongst those famous impes of Greece, did take
His silver harpe in hand, and shortly friends them make.
4. 2. 1.
And in SONNET 44.
When those renowned noble peres of Greece,
Through stubborn pride among themselves did jar,
Forgetful of the famous golden fleece,
Then Orpheus with his harp their strife did bar.
Scaliger finds great fault with the subject of this song, and prefers to it the subject of Orpheus's song in Valerius Flaccus.
"Longe enim aptius [Orpheus] canit, apud Flaccum, Minyas, & Phryxum & Athamantem, quam, apud Apollonium, terrae caelique creationem. Quid enim Viris militaribus cum Philosophorum umbris?"
Poet. B. 5. c. 6.
But by this piece of criticism, Scaliger has greatly betray'd his ignorance of the nature of antient Poesy, and of the character of Orpheus.
"In the early ages of the Grecian state (says the admirable author of the Enquiry into the life and writings of Homer) the wild and barbarous inhabitants wanted the assistance of the Muses to soften and tame them. They stood in need of being impressed with an awe of superior and irresistible powers, and a liking to social life. They wanted a mythology to lead them by fear and dread (the only holds to be taken of a rude multitude) into a feeling of natural causes, and their influence upon our lives and actions. The wise and good among the antients saw this necessity, and supplied it; the oldest of the inspired train were the
—PII VATES,
& Phaebo digna locuti.
They had religion for their theme, and the service of mankind for their song".
Sect. 6.
And in another place, the same author acquaints us, that all the poems of Orpheus were
"philosophical, prophetical, and religious."
Sect. 7.
Thus the conduct of Apollonius was highly consistent, in attributing a song to Orpheus, whose subject was philosophy and religion. And it was for the same reason that Onomacritus, in his Argonautics, v. 419. many years before Apollonius, represented Orpheus singing the origin of the Gods, and the creation of things, in his contest with Chiron.
But the propriety of the subject of this song is easily to be defended without considering the character of Orpheus. The occasion of this song was a quarrel among the Argonauts, whom Orpheus endeavours to pacify with the united powers of music and verse. Upon which account says the Scholiast,
.
To this it may be added, that a song whose subject is likewise religious, and which asserts the right of Jupiter to the possession of Olympus, was even expedient, as one of the chiefs had but just before spoken blasphemy against him.
, &c.—
v. 466.
Testor nunc penetrabilem hastam, quicum lemniscatam
E bellis palmam reporto, non enim Jovi rescripsero victorias
Justius quam hastae meae, &c.
Nor were the auditors of this song of so mean a rank as Scaliger would represent them; he terms them VIRI MILITARES; but it should be consider'd, that they were PRINCES and DEMI-GODS.
But whether the subject of Orpheus's song in Apollonius be good or bad, there is one circumstance belonging to it, which gives it a manifest superiority to that of Orpheus in Valerius Flaccus, I mean the design of it, which was to repress the vehemence of the passions, at once so agreeable to the well-known character of Orpheus, and so expressive of the irresistible influence of music. In the Latin poet Orpheus sings upon no occasion, and to no end, unless it be to make the night pass away more pleasantly.
Thracius hic
NOCTEM
dulci testudine Vates
EXTRAHIT—
I cannot close this note without remarking, that Milton, in these lines, had a reference both to Apollonius and Onomacritus in their respective songs of Orpheus.
Tunc de more sedens festa ad convivia Vates
Aesculeâ intonsos redimitus ab arbore crines
Heroumque actus, imitandaque gesta canebat.
Et Chaos, & positi late fundamina mundi,
Reptantesque deos, & alentes numina glandes,
Et nondum Aetneo quaesitum fulmen ab antro:
Denique quid vocis modulamen inane juvabit
Verborum sensusque vacans, numerique loquacis?
Silvestres decet iste choros, non
ORPHEA,
cantus;
Qui tenuit fluvios, & quercubus addidit aures,
Carmine non citharâ.
—
Ad Patrem. v. 44.
Silius Italicus, B. 11. v. 467. alludes to the contest of Chiron with Orpheus, as related by Onomacritus; and it is remarkable, that in describing the miraculous power of the music of Orpheus, he has plainly translated from the Greek poet; particularly in this circumstance.
.
v. 436.
Avesque circumdederunt stabula Centauri,
Pennis defessis, suique oblitae erant Nidi.
The verses of Sil. Italicus are these,
Inmemor & dulcis Nidi, positoque volatu
Non mota volucris captiva pependit in aethra.
The Latin poet has, however, omitted to describe the manner in which Chiron was affected at seeing the wonderful effect of Orpheus's music on the trees, mountains, rivers, beasts, &c. His astonishment on that occasion is thus beautifully painted by the Greek poet,
.
v. 438.
Sed videns haec Centaurus obstupuit; manum super volam
Valde feriens, terramque pulsavit unguibus.
Orpheus begins his song with the creation of things; after mentioning the sun and moon, mountains and rivers, he speaks of the creation of serpents.
.
Ibid. 501.
Quemadmodum exorti sint Montes, & resonantes fluvii
Cum ipsis Nymphis, & quomodo omnia reptilia concreverint.
And in the next line, from these EPITETA, or Serpents, he passes on to Ophion,
, &c.
Thus here is a close connection, and an easy transition in the context of Apollonius, which doth not appear at first sight.
As an instance of an imitation of Milton from Apollonius has been just produced, I hope the reader will excuse my taking this opportunity of producing another. The English poet thus describes Adam's hair,
—Hyacinthin locks,
Round from his parted forelock manly hung
CLUSTRING.—
P. L. 4. 301.
The circumstance of the hair hanging like bunches of grapes, has been justly admired; but it is literally translated, from this description of Apollo's hair, in the Greek poet.
—
.
. B. 2. v. 678.
—
Aurei ab utraque gena
Cincinni racemantes assultabant eunti.
The word
could hardly be render'd into English by any other word than by clustring.
B. vii. C. vi. S. iii.
Spenser here makes Hecate the daughter of the Titans. Authors differ concerning the parents of Hecate; Orpheus calls her,
.—
. v. 975.
Tartari Filia Hecate.
The Titans were indeed thrown into Tartarus, but it could not be said, from thence, that the Titans were her parents; tho' this, I presume, was the best argument that our author had for his genealogy. In this stanza Bellona is likewise feigned to be the offspring of the Titans; but Bellona was the sister of Mars, who was the son of Jupiter and Juno; or, as Ovid reports, of Juno alone.
A classical reader of the FAERIE QUEENE may discover many other examples which properly belong to this Section; but those which are here omitted, he may find
See REMARKS ON SPENSER'S POEMS.
collected with equal learning and sagacity, by one, whose excellent writings as a critic, are only surpass'd by those in which he has distinguish'd himself as a christian.
SECT. IV. Of Spenser's Stanza, Versification, and Language.
ALthough Spenser's favourite Chaucer had made use of the ottave Rime
Chaucer's Stanza is not STRICTLY so.
or Stanza of eight lines, yet it is most probable, that our author was induced to make choice of it (with the addition of one line) from the example of Tasso and Ariosto, who were the most fashionable poets of his age. But Spenser, in making this choice of his stanza, seems not sufficiently to have consider'd the genius of the English language, which will not easily admit of that more frequent repetition of the same termination, which this stanza requires; a circumstance not difficult in the Italian, which deals largely in identical cadences.
I am obliged to the admirable author of the Rambler for this observation.
This constraint led our author into many absurdities. For example,
I. It necessitated him to dilate the thing to be exprest, however unimportant, with trifling and insipid circumlocutions, viz.
Now hath faire Phaebe with her silver face,
Thrice seene the shadows of the nether world,
Sith last I left that honorable place,
In which her royal presence is enroll'd.
2. 3. 44.
That is,
"it is three months since I left her palace."
II. It obliged him, when matter fail'd him towards the close of his Stanza, to run into a ridiculous redundancy and repetition of words, viz.
In which was nothing pourtrahed nor wrought,
Nor wrought, nor pourtrahed, but easie to be thought.
2. 9. 33.
III. It forc'd him, in order to make out his complement of rhymes to introduce a puerile or impertinent idea, viz.
Not that proud towre of Troy tho' richly GILT,
2. 9. 45.
In this line, being laid under a necessity of producing somewhat consonant to
spilt
and
built,
which went before, he has given us an image at once little and improper. And to the difficulty of his stanza, I think we may impute the great number of his Ellipses, some of which will be pointed out in another place.
Notwithstanding these absurdities flow from Spenser's stanza, yet it must be own'd that some advantages arise from it; and we may venture to affirm, that the fullness and significancy of Spenser's descriptions is often owing to the prolixity of his stanza, and the multitude of his rhymes. The discerning reader is desired to consider the following stanza as an instance of what is here advanced. Guyon is binding Furor.
With hundred iron chaines he did him bind
And hundred knots, which did him sore constraine;
Yet his great iron teeth he still did grind,
And grimly gnash, threatening revenge in vaine:
His burning eyen, whom bloudie strakes did staine,
Stared full wide, and threw forth sparkes of fire;
And more for ranke despight, than for great paine,
Shakt his long locks colour'd like copper wire,
And bit his tawny beard, to shew his raging ire.
2. 4. 15.
In this stanza there are some images which are, perhaps, the consequence of a multiplicity of rhymes.
He all that night, that too long night did passe,
And now the day out of the ocean-maine
Began to peep above this earthly masse,
With pearly dew sprinkling the morning grasse;
Then up he rose like heavy lump of leade,
That in his face, as in a looking glasse,
The signes of anguish one might plainely reade.
3. 5. 26.
Dryden, I think, somewhere remarks, that rhyme often helped him to a thought; an observation, which, probably, Spenser's experience had likewise supplied him with: Spenser, however, must have found more convenience, in this respect, from writing in rhyme, than Dryden, in proportion as the stanza of the former obliged him to a more repeated use of it.
In speaking of Spenser's rhyme, it ought to be remark'd, that he often new-spells a word to make it rhyme more precisely. Take these specimens.
And of her own foule entrailes makes her
meat,
Meat fit for such a monster's monsterous DIEAT.
6. 12. 31.
Timely to joy, and carry comely
cheare
For tho' this clowd have now me overcast,
Yet do I not of better times DESPEARE.
5. 5. 38.
Tho' when the terme is full ACCOMPLISHID
Then shall a sparke of fire which hath long while,
Bene in his ashes raked up, and
hid.
3. 3. 47.
Then all the rest into their coches CLIM,
And through, &c.
Upon great Neptune's necke they softly
swim.
3. 4. 42.
—Mightily
amate,
As fast as forward earst, now backward to RETRATE.
4. 3. 26.
Shall have that golden girdle for
reward,
And of, &c.
Shall to the fairest lady be PREFAR'D.
4. 2. 27.
—Into the hardest
stone,
Such as behind their backes, &c.
Were thrown by Pyrrha, and DEUCALIONE.
5. 8. 2.
and to be short, we meet with
ycled
for yclad,
darre
for dare,
prejudize
for prejudice,
sam
for same,
lam
for lamb,
denay
for deny,
pervart
for pervert,
heare
for hair, and numberless other instances of the orthography being destroyed for the rhyme-sake. This was a liberty which Chaucer, Gower, and Lydgate frequently made use of; and it may not be improper in this place to exhibit the sentiments of a
The author of the Arte of English poesie.
critic in Q. Elizabeth's age upon it.
"Now there cannot be in a maker a fowler fault than to falsifie his accent to serve his cadence; or by untrue orthography to wrench his words to help his rhyme; for it is a sign that such a maker is not copious is his own language".
—However he seems afterwards to allow the deviation from true spelling, in some measure.
"It is somewhat more tollerable to help the rhyme by false orthographie, than to leave an unpleasant dissonance to the eare, by keeping trewe orthographie and losing the rime; as for example, it is better to rime
dore
with restore, than in his true orthographie which is doore.—Such men were in effect the most part of all your old rimers, and 'specially Gower, who to make up his rime would for the most part write his terminant syllable with false orthographie; and many times not sticke to put in a plaine French word for an English; and so by your leave do many of our common rymers at this day."
B. 2. c. 8.
We find in many passages of our author the orthography violated, when the rhyme without such an expedient would be very exact; thus BITE when made to rhyme with DELIGHT is sometimes spelt BIGHT, as if the eye could be satisfy'd in this case as well as the ear. Instances of this sort occur often in Harrington's Ariosto, and more particularly of the word
said,
which is often occasionally written SED. This practice was continued as far down as the age of Milton.
Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw
Daily devours apace, and nothing SED.
Said
is thus printed SED in the edition of 1645, that it might appear to rhyme, with greater propriety, to the preceding
spread:
later editors, not knowing the fashion of writing
said,
upon some occasions, SED, alter'd it to
fed,
which utterly destroy'd the sense. The same spelling is met with again in the same edition, and for the same reason, in L'Allegro.
She was pincht and pull'd she SED,
And he by friars lantern
led.
Hughes, not considering our author's custom of misspelling a word for the convenience of rhyme, makes him frequently guilty of some very bad rhymes; for that editor (among other examples of his correctness) has reduced Spenser's text to modern orthography with great accuracy.
It is indeed surprising, upon the whole, that our author should have been able to execute a poem of such a length as the FAERIE QUEENE with so much spirit, laden with so many shackles, and opprest with so grievous a BONDAGE OF RIMING. I do not remember that he has been so inaccurate, as to make the same word rhyme to itself in more than four or five instances; a fault, which if he had committed very frequently, his many beauties of versification would have obliged us to overlook; and which Harrington should more frequently have avoided, to compensate, in some measure, for the tameness and prosaic mediocrity of his numbers.
Notwithstanding our author's affectation
The author of the Arte of English poesie, seems to have censur'd this practice of Spencer,
"Our maker therefore, at these dayes, shall not follow Piers Plowman, nor Gower, nor Lydgate, nor yet Chaucer; for their language is now out of use with us."
B. 3. C. 1.
The Faerie Queene was not published when this critic wrote, so that this censure is levelled at the Pastorals, which, however, in another place he has commended.
"For Eglogue and pastoral poesie, Sir Ph. Sydney, and Maister Challener, and that other gentleman who wrote the late Shepherd's Kalender."
B. 1. C. 31.
Spenser had published the Pastorals about ten years before; to which he did not prefix his name.
of obsolete phrases and words, yet it may be affirm'd, that his style is, in general, perspicuous, flowing, and exuberant. His Pastorals are written in a profess'd imitation of the style of Chaucer, of which he has taken care to acquaint us, in the beginning of Colin Clouts Come Home Again.
The shepherd's boy best knowen by that name,
That after Tityrus first sung his lay.
Milton, in imitation of our author, stiles Chaucer Tityrus, where he hints at Chaucer's having travelled into Italy.
MANSUS. 34.
Quin & in has quondam pervenit
TYTIRUS
oras.
And the tale of the Oak and Briar, in the Pastoral of Februarie, is more particularly modelled after Chaucer's manner, and is accordingly usher'd in with this preparatory introduction.
—A Tale of Truth
Which I cond of Tityrus in my youth.
And in another Pastoral he hints at his having copied Chaucer.
That Colin hight which well could pipe and sing,
For he of Tityrus his songs did lere.
He even seems, in the Pastorals, to have attempted an imitation of the visions
The author of the Visions of PIERCE PLOWMAN is Roberte Longelande, or Langelande, according to Bale, Script. Brit. Cent. 6. 37. & Wood, Hist. & Antiq. Univ. Oxon. B. 2. pag. 106. who likewise calls him Malverne. It is plain that his poem, called the VISIONS of P. PLOWMAN, was publish'd after the Year 1350, from this passage in it,
In Date of our bryghte, in a drye Apriell
A thousand and three hundred twyse twentye and ten
My wafers ther wer geisen, when Chichester was Mair.
Pass. 13.
So that several of Gower's and Chaucer's pieces made their appearance before it. It is divided into twenty parts (PASSUS, as he styles them;) and consists of many distinct visions, which have no mutual dependance upon each other; so that the poem is not a regular and uniform whole, consisting of one action or design. The author seems to have intended it as a satire on almost every occupation of life, but more particularly on the clergy; in censuring whom, Wickliff had led the way not many years before. This piece abounds with humour, spirit, and imagination; all which are drest to great disadvantage in a very uncouth versification, and obsolete language. It seems to be written without rhyme, an ornament which the poet has endeavour'd to supply, by making every verse to consist of words beginning with the same letter. This practice has contributed not a little to render his poem obscure and perplex'd, exclusive of its obsolete style; for to introduce his alliteration, he must have been often necessarily compell'd to depart from the natural and more obvious way of expressing himself. The learned Dr. Hickes observes, that this alliterative versification was drawn by Langland from the practice of the Saxon poets, and that these visions abound with many Saxonisms.
Haec obiter ex satyrographo nostro, [Langelande] cui Anglo-Saxonum poet
adeo familiares fuerunt, ut non solum eorum verbis versus scripsit, sed tinnitum illum consonantem initia
um apud eos literarum imitatus est, & nonnunquam etiam versus tantùm non Saxonice condidit.
Linguar. Vett. Septentrien. Thesaurus. cap. 21. pag. 107.
And afterwards, speaking of the Anglo-Saxon poems, he adds this of their alliteration.
"Quorum in primis se observandum offert dictionum ab eadem initiali litera incipientium usus non infrequens."
cap. 23. pag. 195.
From this it appears, that the example of Gower and Chaucer, who sought to reform the roughness of their native tongue, by naturalizing many new words from the Latin, French, and Italian, and who introduced the seven-lin'd stanza, from Petrarch and Dante, into our poetry, had little influence upon Longland, who chose rather to go back to the Saxon models, both for language and form of verse.
The curious reader may not, perhaps, be displeased with a specimen of the introduction to the first vision.
"The poet (shadowed by the name and character of Peter, or Piers, a plowman) represents himself as weary with wandering, on a May-morning, and at last laid down to sleep by the side of a brook; where, in a vision, he sees a stately tower upon a hill, with a dungeon, and dark dismal ditches belonging to it, and a very deep dale under the hill. Before the tower a large field or plain is supposed, filled with men of every rank and occupation, all being respectively engag'd in their several pursuits; when suddenly a beautifull lady appears to him, and unravels to him the mystery of what he had seen."
As a specimen of his manner, the reader is desir'd to accept some of the verses of which I have just given an analysis.
In a summer season, when sette was the sun,
I shoupe me into the shroubes as I a shepe were;
In habit as a hermet, unholie of werkes,
Went wide into the world wonders to hear,
And on a May-morning, on Malverne-hylles,
Me befel a ferly, a fairy methought
I was wery a wandring, &c.
Pass. 1. v. 1. &c.
In these verses there is a manifest contradiction; for the poet says, that the SUN was SETT, and that it was a MAY-MORNING. However, it is plain, that in the first line, instead of SETTE
was the sun,
we should read,
—When HOTTE was the Sun.
For Bale [ubi supra] speaking of this work, thus translates the first line of it,
In aestivo tempore cum Sol
CALERET.
And it should be remember'd, that Bale had an opportunity of quoting from the most original editions.
Before every vision the manner of circumstances of his falling asleep, are distinctly describ'd; before one of them in particular, P. Plowman is suppos'd, with equal humour and satire, to fall asleep while he is bidding his beads. In the course of the poem, the satire is carried on by means of several allegoric personages, such as MEDE, SIMONY, CONSCIENCE, SLOTH, &c. The learned Selden (notes on Polyolb. S. 11.) mentions this author with honour; and by Hickes he is frequently styled,
Celeberrimus ille satyrographus, morum vindex acerrimus, &c.
Leland seems to have confounded this poem with Chaucer's PLOWMAN'S TALE. Speaking of two editions of Chaucer, he adds,
"Sed PETRI ARATORIS FABULA, quae communi doctorum consensu Chaucero, tanquam, vero parenti, attribuitur, in utraque editione, quia malos sacerdotum mores vehementer increpavit, suppressa est."
Comment. de Script. Brit. cap. 55.
Chaucer, indeed, in the PLOWMAN'S TALE, seems to have copied from our author.
I shall conclude this note with a short extract from Bale; [
ubi supra.
]
"Illud veruntamen liquido constat, eum [Langelande] fuisse ex primis Joannis Vuiclefi discipulis unum, atque in spiritus fervore, contra apertas Papistarum blasphemias, adversus Deum & ejus Christum; sub amaenis coloribus & typis edidisse in sermone Anglico pium opus, ac bonorum virorum lectione dignum, quod vocabat VISIONEM PETRI ARATORIS.—In hoc opere erudito, prater similitudines varias & jucundas, prophetice plura praedixit, quae nostris diebus impleri vidimus. Complevit suum opus A. D. 1369. dum Joannes Cicestrius Londini Praetor esset,"
of Pierce Plowman; for after exhorting his muse not to contend with Chaucer, he adds,
Nor with the Plowman that the pilgrim playde awhile.
Epilogue to SHEP. KAL.
And besides, that his Pastorals might appear a more complete specimen of a work in old English, he has given them the title of an old book called the SHEPHEARD'S KALENDER, first printed by Wynkin a Worde, and reprinted about twenty years before our author published his Pastorals, viz. 1559. Hence, says E. K. in his Epistle prefix'd,
"He tearmeth it the SHEPHERD's KALENDER, applying an old name to a new work."
One of Spenser's reasons for using so much antient phraseology in these Pastorals, was undoubtedly with a design to stamp a Doric, or rather rustic simplicity upon them; but the principal one was that which is deliver'd by his friend and commentator
Ibid.
,
"who was privie to all his designs",
E. K.
"In myne opinion, says he, it is one especiall prayse of many which are due to this poet, that he hath labour'd to restore, as to their rightfull heritage, such good and naturall English words, as have been long time out of use, and almost cleane disherited; which is the onely cause that our mother-tongue, which truly of itselfe is both ful enough for prose, and stately enough for verse, hath long time beene counted most bare and barren of both; which default, when as some have endevored to salve and recure, they patched up the holes with peeces and ragges of other languages; borrowing here of the French, there of the Italian, and every where of the Latine; not weighing how ill those tongues accord with themselves, but much worse with ours; so now they have made our Englishe tongue a gallimaufrey, or hodge-podge of all other speeches."
Thus that which induced Spenser to adopt so much obsolete language in the Pastorals, induced him likewise to do the same in the FAERIE QUEENE. Hence it is manifest, that he was disgusted with the practice of his cotemporary writers, who had adulterated, according to his judgement, the purity of the British tongue by various innovations from the Spanish, French, Latin, and Italian. And that this was the case in the age of Queen Elizabeth will appear from the following passages. Thus Marston in his satires.
I cannot quote a motte Italianate
Or brand my satires with a Spanish terme.
Proem. B. 2.
And Camden having given us a specimen of the Lord's Prayer in old English has these words.
"Hitherto will our sparkfull youth laugh at their great grand-fathers English, who had more care to do well, than to speak minion-like; and left more glory to us by their exploiting great actes, than we shall by our forging new words, and uncouth phrases."
Remains. Artic. Languages.
A learned gentleman one R. C. who has inserted a letter to Camden in his remains, thus speaks.
"So have our Italian travellers brought us acquainted of their sweet-relished phrases; even we seeke to make our good of our late Spanish enemie, and fear as little the hurt of his tongue, as the dint of his sword."
again,
"We within these sixty years have incorporated so many Latin and French words, as the third part of our tongue consisteth now in them."
And Ascham in his Schole-Master informs us, that not only the language but the manners of Italy had totally infected his country-men, where he is describing the ITALIANIZ'D ENGLISHMAN.
The same author acquains us, that about this time an infinite number of Italian books were translated into English: among the rest, were many Italian novels, the translations of which, Shakespere manifestly made use of for some of his plots. Those who have undertaken to point out the books from whence Shakespere borrow'd his plots, have not, I think, been able to discover the source from whence he drew the story of his MERCHANT of VENICE; which, in all probability, is founded upon the following antient ballad, which I met with in a large collection.
A SONG, shewing the crueltie of Gernutus a JEWE, who lending to a marchant an hundred crownes, would have a pound of his fleshe, because he could not pay him at the time appointed.
In Venice towne not long agoe,
A cruell Jewe did dwell;
Which lived all on usurie,
As Italian writers tell.
GERNUTUS called was the Jewe, &c.
The whole song would be too prolix for this place; I shall transcribe only the close of the story; having premis'd, that the cunning and rapacious Jew is represented, in our ballad, to have lent an eminent merchant of Venice an hundred crowns, upon a bond, in which promise of payment is made within a year and a day; under the forfeiture of a pound of the merchant's flesh, in case of non-payment; that the merchant, on account of his ships being detain'd by adverse winds, was unable to perform his contract at the time appointed; that the affair was referr'd to a judge; that the friends of the merchant offer'd ten thousand crowns to absolve him, but that the Jew obstinately persisted in his demand of the forfeited pound of flesh.
Then said the judge, Yet good, my friend,
Let me of you desire,
To take the flesh from such a place
As yet you let him live;
Doe so, and loe an hundred crownes
To thee here I will give.
No, no, quoth he, &c.
* * * * * *
For I will have my pound of fleshe,
From under his right side.
* * * * * * *
The bloudie Jewe now readie is,
With whetted blade in hand,
To spoyle the bloude of innocent,
By forfeit of his bond.
And as he was about to strike
In him the deadlie blow,
Stay (quoth the judge) thy crueltie,
I charge thee to doe so.
Sith needs thou wilt thy forfeit have
Which is of flesh a pound;
See that thou shed no drop of bloud,
Nor yet the man confound.
For if thou doe, like murderer
Thou here shall hanged bee,
Likewise of fleshe see that thou cut
No more than longs to thee;
For if thou take or more or lesse
To value of a mite,
Thou shalt be hanged presentlie,
As is both law and right.
Gernutus nowe waxt franticke mad,
And wote not what to say;
Quoth he at last, tenne thousand crownes
I will that he shall pay;
And so I grant to sette him free,
The judge doth answere make,
You shall not have a peny given,
Your forfeiture now take.
At the last he doth demand
But for to have his owne;
No (quoth the judge) doe as you li
,
Thy judgement shall be showne;
Either take your pound of fleshe, qd he,
Or cancell me your bond;
O cruell judge! then quoth the Jewe,
That doth against me stand.
And so with griped grieved mind,
He biddeth them farewell,
All the people pray'd the Lord,
That ever this heard tell.
After which follows a moral exhortation, resulting from the subject.
It may be objected, that this ballad might have been written after, and copied from, Shakespere's play. But if that had been the case, it is most likely that the author would have preserved Shakespere's name of Shylock for the Jew; and nothing is more likely, than that Shakespere in copying from this ballad, should alter the name from Gernutus to one more Jewish; and by the alteration of the name his imitation was the better disguised. Another argument (which would have appeared much more convincing, had the whole song been transcrib'd, but which perhaps will be allowed from this extract) is, that our ballad has the air of a narrative written before Shakespere's play; I mean, that, if it had been written after the play, it would have been much more full and circumstantial: At present, it has too much the nakedness of an original. Besides, the first stanza informs us, that the story was taken from some Italian novel. Thus much therefore is certain, that is, Shakespere either copied from that Italian novel, or from this ballad: Now we have no translation, I presume, of such a novel into English; if then it be granted that Shakespere generally took his Italian stories from their English translations, and that the arguments above, concerning the prior antiquity of this ballad are true, it will follow that Shakespere copied from this ballad.
I shall only add, that it appears from S. Gosson's Schoole of Abuse, printed 1579; that the character of a cruell and covetous Jewe had been exhibited with good applause before Shakespere's Shylock appear'd. The author is commending some plays, and among the rest,
"The JEWE and Ptolome shewne at the bull; the one representing the greedinesse of wordly chusers, and bloudy minds of usurers, the other, &c.".
Our author's disapprobation of this practice may be made to appear more fully from his own words, where he hints that Chaucer's language (which he so closely copied) was the pure English.
—Dan Chaucer WELL of ENGLISH UNDEFILDE.
4. 2. 32.
A learned Lexicographer gives a very different account of the purity of Chaucer's style.
"Chaucerus, pessimo exemplo integris vocum plaustris ex eadem Gallia in nostram Linguam invectis; eam, nimis antea a Normannorum victoria adulteratam, omni fere nativa gratia & nitore spoliavit, pro genuinis coloribus sucum illinens, pro vera facie larvam induens."
Skinner Praefat. ad Etymolog. Ling. Anglic. pag. 5.
But tho' Spenser disapprov'd of this corrupt adulteration of style, so fashionable in is age, yet we find him notwithstanding, frequently introducing words from a foreign tongue such, as, visnomie, amenance, arret, mespise, sovenance, afrap, aguise, amenage, abase, and the like; but these words the frequent return of his rhyme obliged him to introduce, and accordingly they will generally be found at the end of his lines. Thus the poverty of our tongue (or rather the unfrequency of identical terminations in it) often compelled him for the sake of rhyme, to coin new English words, such as damnify'd, unmercify'd, wonderment, warriment, unruliment, habitaunce, hazardrie, &c. &c. To this cause his many latinisms may likewise be attributed, which, like the rest, are substituted to make out the necessary jingle.
The censure of B. Johnson, upon our author's style, is perhaps unreasonable,
"Spenser, in affecting the antients, writ no language."
Discoveries.
The ground-work and substance of his style, is the language of the age in which he lived; this indeed is season'd with various expressions deduced from a remote age, but in such a manner, that the language of his age was rather strengthened and dignified, than debas'd or disguis'd by such a practice. In truth, the affectation of Spenser in this point, is by no means so striking and visible as Johnson has insinuated; nor is our author so obsolete in his style, as he is generally thought, or represented to be. For many stanzas together we may frequently read him with as much facility, as we can the same number of lines in Shakespere. But tho' I cannot subscribe to the opinion of the last-quoted critic, concerning our author's recourse to the antients, yet I must confess, that the following sentiments, relating to the same subject, are admirable.
"Words borrow'd of antiquity do lend a kind of majesty to style, and are not without their delight sometimes. For they have the authority of yeares, and out of their intermission do lend a kind of grace-like newnesse. BUT THE ELDEST OF THE PRESENT, AND NEWNESSE OF THE PAST LANGUAGE IS THE BEST."
Ibid.
SECT. V. Of Spenser's Imitations from Chaucer.
IT has been before observ'd in general, that Spenser copied the language of Chaucer; it may with equal truth be affirm'd, that he has likewise in many passages imitated the sentiment of Chaucer; and I shall now proceed to give some specimens of his imitation in both these particulars.
B. i. C. i. S. viii.
Much can they praise the trees so straight and hie,
The sayling pine, the cedar proud and tall,
The vine-prop elme, the poplar never dry,
The builder oake, sole king of forrests all,
The aspine good for staves, the cypresse funerall.
ix.
The Laurell, meed of mighty conquerours,
And poets sage; the firre that weepeth still,
The willow, worne of forlorne paramours,
The eugh, obedient to the benders will,
The birch for shafts, the sallow for the mill,
The myrrhe sweet-bleeding in the bitter wound,
The warlike beech, the ash for nothing ill,
The fruitfull olive, and the platane round,
The carver holme, the maple sildom inward sound.
Met. 10. 90,
Ovid,
Oedip. 532.
Seneca,
3. 440.
Lucan,
Theb. 6. 98.
Statius, and
R. Proserp. 2. 107.
The passages are alleged by Mr. Jortin, remarks on Spenser's poems, p. 4, 5.
Claudian, have all left us a description of trees; but Spenser, in this before us, seems more immediately to have had his favourite Chaucer in his eye; he has, however, much improv'd upon the brevity and simplicity of our antient bard.
The bilder oke, and eke the hardie asshe,
The piller elme, the coffir unto caraine,
The boxe pipe-tree, holme to whips lasshe,
The sailing firre, the cipres death to plaine,
The shooter ewe, the aspe for shaftes plaine,
The olive of peace, and eke the dronken vine
The victor palme, the laurer to divine.
The assemble of fowles, v. 176.
In Chaucer's Complaint of the blacke knight, we meet with another description of trees, from which Spenser seems also to have drawn one or two circumstances.
The mirre also that wepith ever' of kinde
The cedris hie, as upright as a line.
V. 66.
Spenser, perhaps, in having given us this minute and particular enumeration of various trees, has incurred a smaller share of censure than some of the Roman authors mentioned above. In some of them, indeed, such a description will be found superfluous and impertinent; but, upon this occasion, it is highly consistent, and, indeed, expedient, that the poet should dwell, for some time, on the beauty of this grove, in describing its variety of trees, as that circumstance tends to draw the red-cross knight and his companion farther and farther into the shade, 'till at length they are imperceptibly invited to the cave of error, which stood in the thickest part of it: in short, this description is so far from being puerile, or ill-placed, that it serves to improve, and help out the allegory. But notwithstanding this may be affirm'd, in commendation of Spenser, yet I am apt to think, that the impropriety of introducing such a description, would not have appear'd a sufficient reason to our poet, why he should not have admitted it; for his judgment was so greatly overwhelm'd by his imagination, that he could never neglect the opportunity of a good description, whenever it presented itself. The reader will excuse my producing another passage from Chaucer, in which he ridicules, with no less humour than judgment, the particular detail of trees, and of the circumstances which follow'd upon their being fell'd, given us by one of the above-mention'd antient poets. He is speaking of Arcite's funeral.
But how the fire was maken up on height,
And eke the names, how all the trees hight,
As oke, firre, beech, aspe, elder, elme, popelere,
Willow, holme, plane, boxe, chesten, and laurere,
Maple, thorne, beech, ewe, hasell, whipultree,
How they were feld, shall not be told for me:
Ne how the gods runnen up and down,
Disherited of her habitatioun,
In which they wonned in rest and pees,
Nymphes, Faunies, Amadriades.
Ne how the beasts, ne how the birds all
Fledden for feare, when the trees was fall.
Ne how the groun agast was of the light,
That was not wont to see the sonne bright;
Ne how the fire, &c.
Knight's tale, v. 2922.
B. i. C. xii. S. xiv.
The poet is speaking of the magnificent feasting, after the red-crosse knight had conquer'd the dragon.
What needs me tell their feast, and goodly guise,
In which was nothing riotous, nor vaine?
What needs of dainty dishes to devise,
Of comely services, or courtly traine?
My narrow leaves cannot in them containe,
The large discourse of royal princes state.
To this I shall beg leave to subjoin another passage of the same kind; in which he is describing the wedding of Florimel.
To tell the glory of the feast that day,
The goodly service, the devisefull sights,
The bridegroomes state, the brides most rich aray,
The pride of ladies, and the worth of knights,
The royall banquetts, and the rare delights,
Were worke fit for an herauld, not for me.
5. 3. 3.
After this indirect and comprehensive manner, Chaucer expresses the pomp of Cambuscan's feast.
Of which shall I tell all the array,
Then would it occupie a sommer's day;
And eke it needeth not to devise
At every course the order of service.
I wol not tellen as now, of her strange sewes,
Ne of her swans, ne of her heronsewes.
Eke in that lond, as tellen knights old,
There is some meat that is fully dainty hold,
That in this lond men retch of it but small:
There is no man that may reporten all.
Squire's tale. v. 83.
Thus also when lady Custance is married to the Sowdan of Surrie.
What shuld I tellen of the rialte
Of that wedding? or which course goth beforn?
Who blowith in a trompe, or in a horne?
The man of lawe's tale. v. 704.
In these passages it is very evident, that Chaucer intended a burlesque upon the tedious and elaborate descriptions of such unimportant circumstances, to be met with in books of chivalry. In the last verse the burlesque is very strong.
B. i. C. xii. S. xxiv.
He is speaking of a grand assembly, which is held in the hall of the palace of Una's father.
With flying speed, and seeming great pretence,
Came running in, much like a man dismaid,
A messenger with letters, which his message said.
xxv.
All in the open hall amazed stood,
At suddennesse of that unwarie sight,
And wondred at his breathlesse hastie mood;
But he for nought would stay his passage right,
Till fast before the king he did alight,
Where falling flat, great humblesse he did make,
And kist the ground whereon his foot was pight.
He seems to have copied this surprise, occasion'd in the hall by the sudden and unexpected entrance of this messenger, (together with some of the attending circumstances) from a similar but more noble surprise in Chaucer, which happen'd at Cambuscan's annual birth-day festival.
And so befell, that aftir the third course,
While that the king sat thus in his noblay,
Herk'ning his minstrelis their thingis play,
Beforn him at his bord deliciously;
In at the halle dore full sodeinly
There came a knight upon a stede of brass;
And in his hond, &c. &c.
* * * * * * * * * * *
And up he rideth to the hie bord;
In all the hall ne was there spoke a word,
For marveile of this knight, him to behold
Full besily they waiten yong, and old.
This straunge knight, &c.
* * * * * * *
Salved the king and quene, and lordis all,
By ordir, as they sittin in the hall,
With so hie reverence and obeisaunce
As well in speche, as in countinaunce,
That, &c. &c.
* * * *
And aftir this, beforn the hie bord,
He with a manly voice saide his message.
Squier's tale. v. 96.
B. ii. C. xii. S. li.
Thereto the heavens alwaies joviall
Lookt on them lovely, still in stedfast state,
Ne suffred storme, nor frost on them to fall,
Their tender buds or leaves to violate,
Nor scorching heat, nor cold intemperate,
T' afflict the creatures which therein did dwell;
But the milde aire with season moderate,
Gently attempred and dispos'd so well,
That still it breathed forth sweet spirit, and holesome smell.
Chaucer in the Assemble of fowles.
The air of the place so attempre was,
That never was ther grevance of hot ne cold,
There was eke every holesome spice and gras,
Ne no man may there waxe sicke ne olde.
V. 204.
As a proof of this imitation, it may be observ'd, that Spenser has not only here borrow'd some of Chaucer's thoughts, but some of his words. He might, nevertheless, have some passages from the
Claudian. N. Hon. & Mar. v. 51. Lucret. 3. v. 18. Hom. Odyss. 6. v. 42. Sidon. Car. 2. v. 407.
classics in his eye, cited by Mr. Jortin.
Remarks, p. 74, 75.
B. iii. C. ii. S. xix.
The poet, among other rare qualities of Merlin's wondrous mirrour, mentions the following,
Whatever foe had wrought, or friend had fayn'd
Therein discovered was—
And afterwards, St. 21.
Such was the glassie globe that Merlin made,
And gave unto king Ryence for his guard,
That never foes his kingdom might invade,
But he it knew at home, before he hard
Tidings thereof, and so them still debard.
It was a famous present for a prince,
And worthy worke of infinite reward,
That treasons could bewray, and foes convince.
From whence it is plain, that Spenser drew the idea of this mirrour, from that which is presented by the strange knight to Cambuscan, in Chaucer.
This mirror eke, which I have in my hond,
Hath soche a might, that men may in it se
Whan there shall fall any adversite
Unto your reigne, or to yourself also,
And opin se who is your frend or fo.
And ovir all, if any lady bright
Hath set her hert on any manir wight,
If he be false she shall the tresoun se,
His newe love, and all his subtilte,
So opinly, that there shall nothing hide.
Squier's tale, v. 153.
Spenser likewise feigns, that his mirror was of service in the purposes of love, and as such it is consulted by Britomartis, but upon an occasion different from that which is here mention'd by Chaucer. She looks in it to discover, who was destin'd to be her husband.
Whom fortune for her husband would allott.
St. 23.
As the uses of this mirror were of so important a nature, Spenser ought not to have first mention'd it to us by that light appellation, Venus' looking glass; where he is speaking of Britomart's love for Arthegall,
Whose image she had seen in Venus' looking-glass.
3. 1. 8.
B. iii. C. ix. S. xxviii.
She sent at him one firie dart, whose hed
Empoysned was with privie lust, and jelous dred.
xxix.
Hee from that deadly throwe made no defence,
But to the wound his weake heart opened wide,
The wicked engine thro' false influence
Past through his eyes, and secretly did glyde,
Into his hart, which it did sorely gryde.
Which seem to resemble these of Chaucer. He is speaking of Cupid.
He took an arrow full sharpely whet,
And in his bowe when it was sett,
He streight up to his eare drough
The strong bowe that was so tough,
And shot at me so wonder smert,
That through mine eye unto mine hert
The takell smote, and deepe it went.
Rom. of Rosc. v. 1723.
The thought of the heart being wounded thro' the eye occurs again in Chaucer.
So that this arrow anone right
Throughout eye, as it was found,
Into mine hert hath made a wound.
Ibid. v. 1778.
Thus also Palamon speaks, after he had seen Emely.
But I was hurt right now through mine eie
Into mine hert.—
Knight's tale, v, 1098.
The thought likewise occurrs again, in our poet's Hymne in honour of Beautie.
Hath white and red in it such wondrous powre
That it can pierce through th' eyes unto the hart?
B. iv. C. ii. S. xxxii.
Whylome, as antique stories tellen us,
Those two, &c.
* * * * * *
Though now their acts be no where to be found,
As that renowned poet them compiled,
With warlike numbers, and heroick sound,
Dan Chaucer, well of English undefiled,
On fame's eternall bead-roll worthy to be filed.
The Squiers tale of Chaucer being imperfect,
Not unfinish'd, for a very good reason offer'd by the judicious Mr. Upton, who says,
"I hardly think that a story promising so fair in the beginning, should be left half-told."
Letter to G. West,
Esq
p. 10.
our poet thus introduces his story of the battle of the three brethren for Canace; which he builds upon the following hint of Chaucer.
And after woll I speke of Camballo,
That fought in listis with the brethren two,
For Canace, er that they might her winn.
But with these lines the story breaks off.
Mr. Upton
Ubi supra, p. 10.
calls this addition of Spenser to Chaucer's fragment a completion of the squier's tale; but it is certainly nothing more than a completion of one part or division of Chaucer's poem; for, besides what Chaucer propos'd to speak of in the verses above-quoted concerning the contest for Canace, he intended likewise to tell us,
How that this Falcon got her love againe
Repentant, as the story tellith us,
By mediation of Camballus.
Squier's tale, v. 674.
Also,
First woll I tell you of king Cambuscan
That in his time many a cite wan,
How that he wan Thedora to his wife;
And after woll I speke of Algarsife,
For whom full oft in grete peril he was,
Ne had ben holpin, but by th' hors of bras.
ibid. v. 681.
It is no less amusing to the imagination to bewilder itself in various conjectures concerning the expedients by which the particular events here hinted at were severally brought about, and to wander into a romantic disquisition concerning the miracles wrought by the means of this wonderful steed, than it is matter of concern, to reflect, that Chaucer's description of them is utterly lost; especially as we may reasonably conclude, from the remaining parts of this tale, that those which are perish'd, must have discover'd no less striking efforts of the imagination. It appears, that Milton was particularly fond of this poem, and that he was not a little desirous of knowing the end of a story which promis'd so many beauties; in his Il Penseroso, he invokes Melancholy to
—call up HIM that left HALF-TOLD
The story of Cambuscan bold.
Il. Pens. v. 109.
But for what reason are we to suppose that he desir'd him to be CALL'D UP? Was it not for this reason, that he might tell that part of the HALF-TOLD tale which remain'd untold? as before he requests that Orpheus might be rais'd, to sing
Such notes, as warbled to the string,
Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek,
Ibid. v. 105.
so he does not desire that Chaucer should be called up for nothing; but that this author of the imperfect tale of Cambuscan should likewise tell
Of Camball and of Algarsife,
And who had Canace to wife,
That own'd the virtuous ring and glass,
And of the wondrous horse of brass,
On which the Tartar king did ride—
Ibid. v. 111.
circumstances and events, which are not in the half-told story which Chaucer hath left us, but which are only propos'd to be told in the verses above cited, and are the subject of the sequel.
Lydgate, in his TEMPLE OF GLAS, seems to speak as if he had seen a completed copy of this Tale.
And uppermore men depeinten might see,
How, with her RING, goodly CANACE,
Of everie fowle the leden and the song
Could understand, as she hem walkt among:
And how her brother so often holpen was
In his mischefe, by the STEDE OF BRAS.
That part of the story which is hinted at in the two last lines, is lost; which, however, might have been remaining in the age of Lydgate.
In the Ashmolean Musaeum at Oxford, there is a completion of this tale, by John Lane, in MS. It is number'd in the catalogue and in the first leaf 6937, but on the back, 53. quarto. The title of this MS. is as follows,
"CHAUCER'S PILLER; beinge his master-piece, called the SQUIER'S TALE; which hath binn given for lost for allmost theese three hundred yeares, but now found out, and brought to light, by JOHN LANE, 1630."
I conceiv'd great expectations of this manuscript, on reading the following passage in Philips.
"JOHN LANE, a fine old Queen Elizabeth's gentleman, who was living within my remembrance, and whose several poems, had they not had the ill luck to remain unpublish'd, when much better meriting than many that are in print, might possibly have gain'd him a name not inferior (if not equal) to Drayton, and others of the next rank to SPENSER; but they are all to be produced in MSS. namely, his POETICAL VISION, his ALARM TO POETS, his TWELVE MONTHS, his GUY OF WARWICK, (an heroic poem, at least as much as many others that are so entitled) and lastly, his Supplement to Chaucer's SQUIRE'S TALE."
Theat. Poet.
Mod. Poets, pag. 112.
But I was greatly disappointed; for Lane's performance, upon perusal, appear'd to be, not only a very inartificial imitation of Chaucer, but a very weak effort of imagination.
I cannot omit this opportunity of lamenting, with equal regret, the loss of great part of a noble old Scottish poem, entitled, HARDYKNUTE; which exhibits a striking representation of our antient martial manners, that prevail'd before the conveniency and civilities of refin'd life had yet render'd all men fashionably uniform; and lull'd them into that tranquill security, which naturally excludes all those hazardous incidents, and glorious dangers, so suitable to the character and genius of the heroic muse.
B. iv. C. ii. S. xxxiii.
But wicked Time, that all good thoughts doth waste,
And workes of noblest wits to nought outweare,
That famous moniment has quite defac'd;
* * * * * * * * * *
O cursed Elde! the canker-worme of writs;
How may these rimes (so rude, as doth appear)
Hope to endure, sith workes of heavenly wits
Are quite devour'd, and brought to nought by little bits!
Thus Chaucer.
This old storie in latine, which I finde
Of queen Annelida, and false Arcite,
That Elde, which all thingis can frete and bite,
(And it hath freten many a noble storie)
Hath nigh devourid out of her memorie.
Februarie.
B. vi. C. ix. S. v.
He chaunc't to spy a sort of shepheard groomes
Playing on pipes, and caroling apace,
The whiles their beasts, there in the budded broomes,
Beside them fed—
These verses are a distant imitation of Chaucer. They are more immediately an imitation of himself in the Eclogues.
So loytering live you little-heard-groomes
Keeping your beasts in the budded broomes:
* * * * * * * * * *
And crowing in pipes made of grene corne.
Of Q. Annelid. & false Arcite. v. 10.
which are apparently an immediate imitation of these in Chaucer.
And many a floite, and litlyng horne,
And pipis made of grene corne,
As have these little herdegromes,
That kepin bestis in the bromes.
House of Fame. v. 133.
The word heard-groomes occurs again,
—That they were poore heard-groomes.
6. 11. 39.
B. vii. C. vii. S. v.
Then forth issew'd (great goddesse) dame NATURE,
With goodly port, and gracious majesty,
Being far greater, and more tall of stature
Than any of the gods, or powers on hie.
Afterwards, speaking of her face. St. 6.
—It so beauteous was,
And round about such beames of splendor threw,
That it the sunne a thousand times did pass,
Ne could be seene, but like an image in a glass.
vii.
That well may seemen true: for well I weene
That this same day, when she on Arlo sat,
Her garment was so bright, and wondrous sheene,
That my fraile wit cannot devize to what
It to compare, &c.
viii.
In a fair plaine, upon an equall hill,
She placed was in a pavilion;
Not such as craftes-men by their idle skill,
Are wont for princes state to fashion;
But th' earth herself of her owne motion,
Out of her fruitfull bosome made to grow
Most dainty trees, that shooting up anon
Did seem to bowe their blos'ming heads full lowe
Fit homage unto her, and like a throne did shew.
ix.
So hard it is for any living wight,
All her array, and vestiments to tell
That old Dan Geffrey (in whose gentle spirght
The pure well-head of poesie did dwell)
In his fowles parley durst not with it mel,
But it transfer'd to Alane, who, he thought,
Had in his plaint of kindes describ'd it well.
The last-quoted stanza is no obscure hint, that our poet had been consulting Chaucer's Assembly of fowles for this description of NATURE. But Spenser has given many new and delicate touches to Chaucer's rough sketch, as will appear upon comparison.
Tho was I ware, where there ysate a quene,
That as of light the sommer sonne shene
Passith the sterre, right so ovir mesure,
She fairir was than any other creture.
And in a launde, upon a hill of floures,
Was set this quene, this noble goddesse NATURE,
Of braunchis were her hallis and her boures,
I wrought aftir her craft and her mesure.
* * * * * * * * * *
And right as Alaine in the plaint of kinde
Deviseth Nature of soche araie and face,
In such araie men mightin her there finde.
Assemble of fowles. v. 298.
B. xvii. C. viii. S. xlvi.
But Life was like a faire young lusty boy,
Such as they faine Dan Cupid to have beene,
Full of delightfull health, and lively joy,
Deckt all with flowres, and wings of gold fit to employ.
Chaucer thus represents Cupid.
But of his robe to devise
I dreade encombred for to be;
For not yclad in silke was he
But all in floures, and flourettes.
Romaunt of the Rose. v. 890.
But the antients have left us no authority for such a representation of Cupid. Our author, St. 34. above, gives him a green vest.
And Cupid-selfe about her fluttred all in greene.
Which is equally unwarrantable. Though Catullus has given him a yellow vest.
Quam circumcursans huc illuc saepe Cupido,
Fulgebat
CROCINA
candidus in tunica.
Ad Manlium.
Where Scaliger remarks, that Sappho attributes a purple vest to this deity.
B. vii. C. viii. S. xl.
Next was November; he full grosse and fat,
As fed with lard, and that right well might seeme,
For he had been a satting hogs of late.
* * * * * * * * *
xli.
And after him came next the chill December;
Yet he thro' merry feasting which he made,
And great bonfires, did not the cold remember,
His Saviour's birth his mind so much did glad.
* * * * * * * * * *
And in his hand a broad deepe boawle he beares,
Of which he freely drinks an health to all his peeres.
In describing these figures, Spenser seems to have remember'd some circumstances in Chaucer's picture of Janus, or January.
Janus sit by the fire with double berde,
And drinketh of his bugle horne the wine;
Before him stant brawn of the tuskid swine,
And
i. e. Christmass.
nowil singeth every lustie man.
Frankelein's tale. v. 2808.
I shall now lay before the reader some instances of phrases and words, which Spenser has adopted from Chaucer.
B. i. Introduction, St. iii.
—With you bring triumphant MART.
We have no reason to imagine, that Spenser here arbitrarily uses Mart instead of Mars, for the convenience of rhyme, since he had the authority of Chaucer for it.
All esily now for the love of MARTE.
Tr. and Cr. B. 2. v. 988.
Again,
O cruil god of deth, dispiteous MARTE.
Ibid. B. 2. v. 435.
We find it likewise in other places. Chaucer sometimes uses MART for war.
B. i. C. i. S. xxxiv.
And well could FILE his tongue as smooth as glass.
So Chaucer.
For wele he wiste when the song was songe,
He must preche, and well AFILE his tonge.
Prol. 713.
Again,
This Pandarus gan new his tong AFILE.
Tr. and Cr. B. 1. v. 1681.
The same metaphor occurrs more than once again in our author.
His practick wit, and his fair FILED tongue.
2. 1. 3.
—However, Sir, ye FILE
Your courteous tongue, his praises to compile.
3. 2. 12.
B. i. C. iv. S. xl.
Redoubted battaile ready to DARRAINE.
Darraine is often used by Chaucer.
The everich should an hundred knights bring
The battle to DARRAIN.
Knight's tale, v. 2098.
Full privily two harneis had he dight
Both sufficient and mete to DARRAINE
The battail in the field, betwixt them twaine.
Ibid. v. 1632.
The word seems to be de deriv'd from the French
arranger
; so that to darraine battle is, to set the battle in array. Our poet has used arrang'd (from
arranger
) and applied it to battle more than once.
So both to battel fierce ARRANGED are.
1. 2. 36.
—ARRANG'D in battle new.
1. 6. 38.
Chaucer, in another place, uses darraine in a sense not agreeable to its genuine signification.
Everich of you shall bring an hundred knights
* * * * * * * * * *
Alredy to DARRAIN here by battaile.
Ibid. 1853.
Where it should imply, TO DETERMINE. This word being a Chaucerism, our author has very remarkably affected the use of it, viz.
—sad battaile to DARRAINE.
1. 7. 11.
—to DARRAINE
A triple warre.—
2. 2. 26.
—six knights that did DARRAINE
Fierce battaile against one.—
3. 1. 20.
—new battaile to DARRAINE.
4. 4. 26.
—new battaile to DARRAINE.
4. 5. 24.
And dreadfull battle 'twixt them do DARRAINE.
5. 2. 15.
In which they two the combat might DARRAINE.
6. 12. 9.
—Those giants, which did warre DARRAINE
Against the heavens.—
6. 7. 41.
We have here an instance in which the word is used in a more vague sense,
—How best he mote DARRAINE
That enterprize.—
4. 9. 4.
But we are told, in the glossary to Chaucer, (Urry's edit.) that this word, among other senses, signifies,
to dare, to attempt.
Thus, by a gradual detortion, and by an imperceptible progression from one kindred sense to another, a word, at length, attains a meaning entirely foreign to its original etymology.
Spenser's frequent use of DARRAINE seems to have somewhat familiaris'd it in Queen Elizabeth's age. We meet with it in Shakespere, who probably drew it from our author.
DARRAIGN your battle; they are near at hand.
Third Part of Hen. VI. Act 2. S. 3.
B. i. C. vii. S. xxix.
His GLITTERAND armor shined far away.
Spenser thus affectedly spells the participle glittering, in imitation of Chaucer. So in the Plowman's tale,
That high on horse willeth ride
In GLITTERANDE gold, of great array
V. 2073.
And in the same poem.
With GLITTERANDE gold as grene as gall.
V. 2103.
Glitterand is very frequently used by our author.
Soone as those GLITTERAND armes he did espy.
2. 7. 42.
Eftsoones himselfe in GLITTERANDE arms he dight.
2. 11. 17.
Her glorious GLITTERAND light doth all mens eyes amaze.
1. 4. 16.
We meet with it likewise in the Eclogues.
Ygirt with bells of GLITTERAND GOLD.
July.
Many of Chaucer's active participles are thus terminated, viz. sittande, smertande, laughande, &c. for sitting, smarting, laughing. We meet with this termination of the active participle very frequently in the antient Scotch poets.
B. i. C. vii. S. xiv.
—Doe him not to die.
Chaucer,
—& doen to die
These losengeours, with her flatterie.
Rom. Rose. v. 1061.
The instances of this expression are innumerable, both in Chaucer, and in our author.
B. ii. C. ii. S. xxii.
And suffred not their blowes to BITE him nere.
That is, to pierce him to the quick. The word is frequently used, in the sense, to pierce or wound, in Chaucer.
Ne short sword to stick with point BITING
No man ne draw.—
Knight's tale. 2548.
And made his sword deep in his flesh YBITE.
Ibid. 2642.
The jealous strokes on their helmes BITE.
Ibid. 2636.
Speaking of a sword, afterwards,
Throughout his armure it will kerve and BITE.
Also,
But in his sleve he gan to thring
A rasour sharpe and well-BITING.
Rom. Rose. v. 7319.
Nor are instances of this word less frequent in Spenser, viz.
The cruell steele so greedily doth BITE
In tender flesh—
1. 5. 9.
His BYTING sword, and his devouring speare.
1. 7. 48.
That first did teach the cursed steele to BITE
In his own flesh—
2. 6. 32.
The pointed steele—
His harder hide would neither
pearce
nor BITE.
1. 11. 16.
—The sharpe steele arriving forcibly
On his broad shield, BIT not—
2. 5. 4.
A stroke,
And glauncing downe, would not his owner BITE.
2. 8. 38.
And
pearced
to the skin, but BIT not more.
2. 8. 44.
A dart,
And had not powre in his soft flesh to BITE.
3. 5. 19.
Till on her horses hinder parts it fell,
Where BITING deep, so deadly it imprest.
4. 6. 13.
That glauncing on her shoulder-plate it BIT
Unto the bone.—
5. 7. 33.
But BYTING deepe therein.—
6. 12. 21.
i. e. into his shield.
The tempred steele did not into his braine-pan BITE.
6. 6. 30.
And we find another instance of
biting near,
for
piercing
to the quick:
Much was the lady in her gentle mind
Abasht at his rebuke, that BIT her neare.
6. 11. 64.
And in this manner we find it used by Shakespere,
Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
Thou dost not BITE SO NIGH
As benefits forgot.
As You Like it. Act. 2. 8. 10.
B. ii. C. iv. S. xxiv.
Saying, he now had boulted all the floure.
That is, he had search'd the matter to the bottom. This form is founded upon an old proverb in Chaucer,
But I ne cannot boult it to the brenne
As can that holy doctour Saint Austen.
Nonne's Priest's Tale. 1355.
B. ii. C. vi. S. xliii.
HARROW now out, and
weal-away,
he cryde:
So Chaucer,
And gan to cry HARROW and
weal-away.
Reve's Tale. 964.
HARO is a form of exclamation antiently used in Normandy, to call for help, or to raise the Hue and Cry.
Glossary to Urry's edit.
We find it again in our author,
HARROW the flames which me consume,—
2. 6. 49.
Again,
—HARROW, and
weal-away!
After so wicked deed, &c.—
2. 8. 46.
It occurs often in Chaucer, and is, I think, always used as an exclamation of GRIEF; but there are some passages in an old MYSTERY printed at Paris, 1541, where it is applied as a term of ALARM, according to its original usage. Lucifer is introduced summoning the devils.
Dyables meschans, &c.
* * * *
Viendrez vous point a mes cris, & aboys,
* * * * * * *
HARO, HARO,
nul de vous je ne veoys?
And in another place, where he particularly addresses Belial.
HARO, HARO,
approche toy grant Dyable,
Approche toy notayre mal fiable,
Fier Belial, &c.
It is observable, that the permission of the CLAMEUR DE HARO is to this day specified, amongst that of other officers, in the instrument of Licence prefix'd to books printed in France.
B. iii. C. i. S. lxiv.
To stir up strife, and troublous CONTECK broche.
Spenser here, when he might have used
contest,
chuses rather Chaucer's obsolete term CONTECK. Thus in the Knight's tale,
CONTEKE with bloody knyves, and shape menace.
V. 2006.
Again,
Of CONTEKE, and of whelpis gret and light.
Nonne's Priest's tale. v. 10047.
Our poet had us'd it before in the Eclogues.
But kindle coales of CONTECKE and ire,
Wherewith they sett all the world on fire.
September.
B. iii. C. ii. S. v.
—Like a PYNED ghost—
So likewise,
That like a PYNED ghost he soon appears.
4. 7. 41.
We find FORPYNED ghost in Chaucer, which is the same as PYNED ghost.
He was not pale as a FORPYNED ghost.
Prolog. v. 205.
B. iii. C. vi. S. vi.
But wondrously they were begott and bred,
Through influence of th' heavens chearfull ray;
As it in antique books is mentioned.
These introductions give authority to a fictitious story. Thus the tale of Canace is usher'd in,
Whylom as antique stories tellen us.
And in another place he refers to history for a sanction to his invention,
As ye may else-where read that ruefull history.
3. 6. 53.
Chaucer frequently makes use of these forms. He thus begins the Knight's tale.
Whylom as olde storis tellin us.
And again, in the same tale.
—As old books us saine,
That all this storie tellen more plaine.
Knight's tale. v. 1466.
And afterwards,
—As men may behold
In Stace of Thebes, and these bookes old.
Ibid. 2295.
B. i. C. vii. S. xlvii.
—The mighty OLLYPHANT that wrought
Great wreake to many errant knights of yore.
The giant OLLYPHANT here mentioned, is probably that which Sir Thopas meets, in his expedition to the land of Fairy.
Till him there came a great giaunt,
His name was called Sir OLIPHAUNT.
Rime of Sir Thopas. v. 3315.
B. iii. C. vii. S. lvii.
Because I could not give her many a JANE.
So Chaucer.
Of Bruges were his hosin broun,
His robe was of Chekelatoun,
That cost many a JANE.
Rime of Sir Thopas, v. 3242.
Many a jane, that is, much money. Skinner informs us, that JANE is a coin of Genoa; and Speght Gl. to Chaucer, interprets JANE, half-pence of Janua, or galy half-pence. Chaucer sometimes uses it as a coin of little value. As,
—Dere ynough, a JANE.
Cl. of Oxenford's tale. v. 2020.
And in other places.
B. iii. C. ix. S. iii.
Then listen lordinges—
Chaucer often applies this introductory form in his Canterbury tales. Thus too the old poem of Sir Bevis of South-hampton begins.
Listen lordinges, and hold you still,
Of doughty men, tell you I will.
B. iii. C. ix. S. 20.
Her golden lockes, that were in tramels gay
Up-bounden, did themselves adoune display,
And raught unto her heeles.—
So Chaucer.
Her tresses yellow, and long straughten
Unto her heeles downe they raughten.
Rom. Rose, v. 1021.
And in the same poem,
Her haire downe to her heeles went.
Ibid. 1218.
Our author again expresses himself in the same manner, speaking of a robe.
—When she list, it raught
Down to her lowest heele.—
5. 5. 2.
Also,
—Her golden lockes that were upbound
Still in a knott, unto her heeles downe traced.
4. 1. 13.
This mention of golden hair puts me in mind of a correction which Mr. Upton has made in the following verse of Chaucer.
Her GILDED heris with a GOLDEN thread
Iboundin were.
Assemble of Fowles, v. 267.
Mr.
Letter to G. West,
Esq
p. 35.
Upton thinks that here is a transposition occasion'd by the transcriber's haste, and that we should apply
gilded
to
threde,
and
goldin
to
heris,
viz.
Her
goldin
heris with a
gilded
threde
Iboundin were—
The alteration appears at first sight to be very just; But it is perhaps unnecessary if we consider that
gilte
or
gilded,
is often us'd by Chaucer, and applied to hair. Thus,
His GILT here was ycrounid with a son.
Leg. of G. Women, v. 230.
And in the same poem,
Hide Absolon thy GILTE tressis clere.
Ibid. v. 249.
We have here
gildid
hair,
Dischevilid with her bright GILDID here.
Ibid. v. 390.
B. iii. C. ix. S. xxxi.
—Thus was the ape
By their faire handling put into Malbecco's cape.
A proverb from Chaucer.
This cursed Chanon put in his hode an ape.
Host's words, chan. Y. v. 1510.
Again,
The Monke put in the marchants hode an ape.
Host's words, ship. 2948.
B. iii. C. x. S. xix.
To seek her ENDLONG both by sea and land.
I do not rembmber that
endlong
occurs in any poet before Spenser, Chaucer excepted; nor in any of Spenser's contemporaries; so that probably our author drew it from his favorite bard, viz.
—The reed blood
Ran ENDLONG the tree.
Squire's Tale, v. 435.
—
Also,
Loke what Daye that ENDLONG to Britaine
Ye remeve all the rockis stone by stone.
Fran. Tale, v. 2538.
And in other places. Mr. Pope has reviv'd this word with great propriety.
B. iii. C. x. S. xxxi.
Bigge looking, like a doughty DOUZEPERE.
In the glossary to Urry's Chaucer we are told that
doseperis
is from the French
les douze pairs
; the twelve peers of France. Some legendary governors of Rome are so called in allusion to those of France, in these lines of the Merchant's second tale, or the History of Beryn,
When it [Rome] was governed by the DOSEPERIS.
V. 44.
And below,
Then Constantyne the third after these DOSIPERIS.
v. 51.
It may be doubted whether or no our author borrow'd this word DOUZEPERE from Chaucer; for Chaucer's tale in which the word occurrs was first printed by Mr. Urry, who informs us that he could meet with only one MSS. copy of it.
B. iii. C. xii. S. xi.
With him went DANGER.—
Spenser seems to have personified danger after the example of Chaucer, who has made him a very significant character in the Romaunt of the rose; but I do not remember that any circumstances in Spenser's description of him are borrow'd from thence. He is again introduc'd as the guardian of the gate of good desert in the temple of Venus, 4. 10. 18. and afterwards, as an advocate for Duessa, 5. 9. 45.
B. iv. C. i. S. xxxii.
His name was BLANDAMOUR.—
There was an old romance which celebrated the atchievments of Blandamour; which Spenser might have seen. If not, he probably drew the name from this hint of Chaucer,
Men speken of romances of pris,
Of Horne-child, and of Ipotis,
Of Bevis, and Sir Gie,
Of Sir Libeaux, and BLANDAMOURE.
R. of Sir Thopas. v. 3402.
B. iv. C. iv. S. xxiii.
—Fiercely forth he rode,
Like sparke of fire, that from the anvil GLODE.
The compiler of the Glossary to Spenser informs us, that GLODE signifies
glanc'd,
or that it is written, by poetical licence, for
glowed.
As to the latter of these explanations, I do not think, that
glow
had acquired so vague a sense in our author's age; and where is the authority for the former? Spenser undoubtedly borrow'd it from the following passage of Chaucer.
His good steede he bestrode
And forth upon his way GLODE
As sparke out of the bronde.
Ibid. v. 3408.
Our author has here plainly borrow'd the thought, as well as the particular word in question, which, however, he has differently applied. May not GLODE be the preter-imperfect tense of
glide?
B. v. C. i. S. xxv.
—This doubtfull causes right
Can hardly but by sacrament be tride,
Or else by Ordele.—
Tr. and Cr. B. 3. v. 1048.
So Chaucer,
Where so you list by Ordal, or by othe.
Tr. and Cr. B. 3. v. 1048.
B. vi. C. vi. S. xii.
'Gainst all both good and bad, both MOST and LEAST.
MOST here signifies
greatest
; and in the following instances; as, MORE implies
greater.
I do possesse the world's MOST regiment.
7. 7. 17.
That is, I am possest of the greatest sway over the world.
—All other weapons
lesse
or MORE,
Which warlike uses had devis'd of yore,
5. 8. 34.
For ere thou limit what is
lesse
or MORE.
5. 2. 34.
In Sonnet 20.
In his MOST pride disdaineth, &c.
Again,
What tho' the sea with waves continuall
Doe eat the earth, it is no MORE at all,
Ne is the earth the
lesse.
—
5. 2. 39.
In Sonnet 55.
Thus for to be the world's MOST ornament.
This is the language of Chaucer; viz.
I saie, that she ne had not MOST fairenesse.
Monk. Tale. 367.
That is, I do not affirm that she had the
greatest
share of beauty.
The grete geftes also to the MOST and LESTE.
Knight's tale. v. 2200.
Again,
From Boloigne is the erle of Pavie come,
Of which the fame yspronge to MOST and LESTE.
Frank. tale. v. 2600.
Thus we have also MORE or LESS for
greater
and
smaller.
—The goddesse
Both of the see, and rivers MORE and LESSE.
Cl. of Ox. tale. 1900.
Thus also MUCH or LITE is
great
and
small.
But he ne left, neither for raine ne thonder,
In sikeness, ne in mischief to visite
The farthist in his parish MUCH or lite.
Prol. 494.
And to this day MUCH is prefix'd to some villages in England, as a mark of greatness. The ingenious author of Miscellaneous Observations on Macbeth, remarks, that in the interpolated Mandeville, a book printed in the age of queen Elizabeth, there is a chapter of India THE MORE AND THE LESS, note 43.
I had almost past over some of the subsequent instances.
B. ii. C. 6. S. xxix.
That a large purple streame adowne their GIAMBEUX falls.
He probably drew GIAMBEUX, i. e.
boots,
from this passage in the Rime of Sir Thopas.
His JAMBEUX were of cure buly.
V. 3380.
B. vi. C. vii. S. xliii.
But in a jacket quilted richly rare
Upon CHECKLATON, he was strangely dight.
Checklaton likewise occurs in the last-mention'd poem of Chaucer.
His robe was of CHEKELATOUN.
V. 3243.
Speght
Glossary to Chaucer.
interprets this word, a stuff of checkerwork made of cloth of gold; and Skinner, a stuff like motley.
To PRICK is very frequently used by Spenser, as well as by Chaucer, for,
to ride
; as is MANY for retinue, multitude, or company. Dryden, in his inimitable Music-ode, has thus used MANY.
The MANY rend the skies with loud applause.
Many also is to be found in this sense in Harrington and Shakespere.
It should not be omitted, that LAD for
led,
often occurs in Chaucer, as it does likewise in Spenser, viz. a milk-white lamb she LAD. 1. 1. 4 whom they LAD. 2. 12. 84. a wretched life they LAD. 3. 12. 16. life which afterwards he LAD. 4. 8. 2. to their purpose LAD. 5. 12. 37. The virgin LAD. 4. 12. 33. he him LAD. 5. 1. 22. away was LAD. 6. 10. 39.
Our author seems to have used,
never none,
for,
there never was one,
from an affectation of Chaucer's manner; altho' it must be confess'd, that most of our old English writers frequently join two negatives, when no affirmation is intended. Hickes, after observing, that a negation is often express'd in the Anglo-Saxonic by two negatives, has these words,—
Editor Chauceri nihil antiqui sapiens, dicit
"It is his manner likewise, imitating the Greekes, by two negatives, to cause a greater negation; as,
I ne said none ill.
"
Speght's ADVERTISEMENT TO THE READERS; prefix'd to his second edition of Chaucer's works; London printed by Adam Islip, 1602.
But the labours of this editor ought by no means to be slighted in general, as he is the first that ever gave to the public a tolerably complete edition of Chaucer; and though he is censur'd as one
Antiqui nihil sapiens,
yet it must be confess'd, that his glossary to Chaucer, as being the first of that kind, was a very laudable undertaking; and tho' it was the first, that it is, notwithstanding, so well executed, as to have supplied very valuable materials to some more modern glossographers upon our antient bard.
ipsum imitatum fuisse Graecos in vehementius negando per
DUO NEGATIVA;
tametsi Chaucerus (Literarum Graecarum ignarus) more sui temporis, in quo Saxonismus non penicus exoleverat,
DUOBUS NEGATIVIS
est usus
Linguarum Vett. Septentrional. Thesaurus. cap. 12. pag. 58.
.
After which he produces some instances in the Saxon, where not only two, but three, and four negatives are put together, with a negative signification.
It is not pretended, that all the obsolete words and phrases, to be met in our author, are here set down, but those only which carry with them a more certain and undoubted evidence of their being immediately derived from Chaucer. Thus here are several old old words unnoticed, which appear likewise in Chaucer; but which are no more the property of him, than they are of Lidgate, of Gower, and of the author of Piers Plowman; so that it would be difficult in some cases to ascertain and mark out the particular source from which our author drew; however it is manifest that he had the most frequent recourse to, and drew the largest draughts from Chaucer,
—The well of English undefilde.
I cannot dismiss this section without a wish, that this neglected author whom Spenser proposed in some measure, as the pattern of his language, and to whom he is not a little indebted for many noble strokes of poetry should be more universally and attentively studied. Chaucer seems to be regarded rather as an old poet, than as a good one, and that he wrote English verses four hundred years ago seems more frequently to be urged in his commendation, than that he wrote four hundred years ago with taste and judgment. We look upon his poems rather as venerable relics, than as finish'd patterns; as pieces calculated rather to gratify the antiquarian than the critic. When I sate down to read Chaucer with the curiosity of knowing how the first English poet wrote, I left him with the satisfaction of having found what later and more refin'd ages could hardly equal in true humour, pathos, or sublimity. It must be confest that his uncouth or rather unfamiliar language has deterr'd many from perusing him; but at the same time it must be allowed, that nothing has more contributed to his being little looked into, than the convenient opportunity of reading him with facility in modern imitations. Thus when translation (for such may imitations from Chaucer be call'd) becomes substituted as the means of attaining the knowledge of any difficult and antient author, the original not only begins to be neglected and excluded as less easy, but also to be despised as less ornamental and elegant. And thus tho' Mr. Pope's translation of Homer is perhaps the best that ever was made of any author, yet it has so far indulg'd the laziness or illiteracy of many readers, as to tempt them to acquiesce in the knowledge of Homer acquir'd by it, as sufficient; and thus many have preferr'd that translation to the Graecian text, in proportion as the former contains more frequent and more shining metaphors, more lively descriptions, and in general appears to be more full, elaborate, and various.
SECT. VI. Of Spenser's imitations from Ariosto.
B. i. C. i. S. xxix.
THIS circumstance of the Red-cross knight and Una meeting with Archimago disguised like a hermit, who tells them a feign'd tale, and after that raises two spirits with an intent to deceive the Redcross Knight, seems to be copied from Ariosto, who introduces Angelica meeting with an hypocritical hermit who raises a false spirit with a design to deceive Sacrapant and Renaldo, and to exasperate them against Orlando, &c.
Che scontro un' eremita, &c.
C. 2. S. 12.
But Spenser has greatly improv'd the hint. Archimago is again introduc'd after the same manner, B. i. C. vi. S. xxxiv. and B. ii. C. i. S. viii.
B. i. C. ii.
This illusion effected by Archimago, who discovers a fictitious Una to the Red-cross Knight in the embraces of a young 'squire, seems to be imitated from the deceptions carried on in the enchanted castle of Atlanta, where many of the guests are impos'd upon by false representations of the persons of their friends or mistresses; and more particularly from that passage where Orlando, after having been cheated with the appearance of a fictitious Angelica, is made to hear her cry out for his assistance, as if some villain was ravishing her, &c.
Dum que in presentia del mio caro Orlando
Da questo ladro mi sara rapita?
C. 12. S. 15.
Piu, &c. &c.
Helpe now or never helpe; alas shall I,
In mine Orlando's sight loose my virginitie?
Harrington.
B. i. C. vii. S. xxxiii.
His warlike shield all closely cover'd was
Ne might of mortal eye be ever seene,
* * * * * * * * * *
xxxiv.
The same to wight he never would disclose,
But when as monsters huge he would dismay,
Or daunt unequall armies, &c.
* * * * * * * * * *
xli.
And when he list the prouder lookes subdew
He would them gazing blind, &c.
This is the shield of Atlanta.
D'un bello drappo di seta havea coperto
Lo
SCUDO
in braccio il Cavalier celestie,
Come avesse, non so, tanto sofferto
Di tenerlo nascosto in quella veste;
Ch' immantinente, che lo mostra aperto,
Forza e chi' l mira abbarbagliato resto,
E cada, come corpo morto cade.
C. 2. S. 55.
This heavenly hellish warrior bare a shield
On his left arme, that had a silken case,
I cannot any cause or reason yeeld,
Why he should keep it coverd so long space:
It had such force that whoso it beheld,
Such shining light it striketh in their face,
That down they fall, &c.—
Harrington.
B. i. C. viii. S. iii.
—Wide wonders of all
Of that same hornes great vertues weren told.
* * * * * * *
iv.
Was never wight that heard that shrilling sound
But trembling feare did feele in every vaine.
This horne, with its miraculous effects, is borrow'd from that which Logestylla presents to Astolfo.
Dico che' l'corno di si orribil suono,
Ch' ovunque s' ode fa fuggir la gente.
C. 15. S. 15.
Non puo, &c.
An horne in which if he do once but blow
The noise thereof shall trouble men so sore,
That all both stout and faint shall flie therefro.
Harrington.
I wonder Spenser should have made so little use of this horn. He has not scrupled to introduce the shield above-mentioned (tho' as manifestly borrow'd from Ariosto) upon various occasions.
B. i. C. viii. S. xlvi.
Duessa who before appear'd young and beautiful, stript of her rich apparel is discover'd to be a lothsom old woman. She is a copy of Ariosto's Alcina, who after having long engaged the affections of Rogero by her youth and beauty, is at last, by the virtue of his ring, discovered to be old and ugly. These circumstances of Duessa's discovery are literally drawn from Ariosto.
A loathly wrinkled hag ill-favourd old.
* * * * * * * * * * *
xlvii.
Her crafty hed was altogether bald,
And—
Was overgrowne with scurfe, and filthy scalde,
Her teeth out of her rotten gums were feld.
Pallido, crespo, e macilento avea
Alcina il viso, il crin raro, e canuto,
* * * * * * * * * *
Ogni dente di bocca era caduto.
C. 7. S. 53.
Her face, was wan, a leane and writheld skin,
* * * * * * * * * *
Her haire was gray of hue, and verie thin,
Her teeth were gone, &c.—
Harrington.
B. ii. C. iv. S. xix.
It was my fortune, &c.
This tale, is borrow'd from the tale of Geneura in Orlando Furioso, C. iv. S. l. &c.
B. ii. C. xi. S. xxxvii.
The difficulty which prince Arthur finds in killing Maleger, seems to be copied from the encounter of Griffin and Aquilant with Orillo, who (like Maleger) receives no hurt from all the wounds that are given him: And the circumstances by which Maleger's death is effected, partake much of the fantastic extravagance of those by which Orillo is at last kill'd. See Orlando Fur. C. xv. S. lxvii. &c. &c.
B. iii. C. iv. S. lix.
—A mighty speare,
Which Bladud made my magicke art of yore.
* * * * * * *
For never wight so fast in sell could sit,
But him perforce unto the ground it bore.
This enchanted spear of Britomartis is the
lame d'oro
which Astolfo presents to Bradamante.
La Lancia, che di quanti ne percote
Fà le selle restar subito vote.
C. 23. S. 15.
The speare—
With head thereof if any touched were
Straight ways to fall to ground they must be fayne.
Harrington.
Spenser sometimes calls it Goldelaunce.
B. iii. C. iv. S. i.
Where is the antique glory now become
That whilome wont in women to appeare?
Where, &c.
This introduction in praise of women, seems to be enlarg'd from that of Ariosto to C. 20.
Le Donne antiche hanno mirabil cose,
Fatto ne l'arme, e ne le sacre muse,
E de lor' opre belle, e gloriose
Gran lume in tutto il mondo si diffuse.
Arpalice, e Camilla son famose,
Perche in battaglia erano esperte, &c.
Marvellous deeds by divers dames were donne
In times of old, as well by sword as pen;
So as their glorie shined like the sunne,
And famous was both far and neare, as then
The fame Harpalice in battel won,
Camilla's worth, &c.
Harrington.
And, B. 3. C. 2. S. 1. he touches upon the same argument again.
Here have I cause in men just blame to find
That in their proper praise too partiall bee,
And not indifferent to woman-kind,
To whom no share in armes and chivalrie
They doe impart, ne maken memorie
Of their brave gests, and prowesse martiall;
Scarce do they spare to one, or two, or three,
Roome in their writs; yet the same writing small
Does all their deeds deface, and dims their glories all.
Where he seems to copy the close of the above introduction of Ariosto.
E forse ascosi han lor debiti onori
L'invidia; o il non saper de gli scrittori.
S. 2.
Doubtlesse the fault is either in back-biters,
Or want of skill, and judgment in the writers.
Harrington.
B. iii. C. iii. S. xx.
Merlin here discovers to Britomart her future progeny; which he does likewise to Bradamante in Ariosto. C. 3.
B. iii. C. vii. S. lii.
But read thou squire of Dames, &c.
The tale of the squire of Dames is a copy of the Hosts tale in Ariosto. c. 28.
B. iii. C. x. S. xlvii.
Malbecco mixes with the flock of goats, and passes for one. He might have here the escape of Ulysses from Polypheme in his eye; but more immediately, perhaps, the like expedient made use of by Norandin, who mixes among the goats, as a goat, that he may gain access to Lucina. C. 17. S. 35. &c. Norandin, indeed, is drest up in goat-skins, but Malbecco's similitude is made out by his horns, which he wears as a cuckold; a fiction, the meanness of which nothing but the beautiful transformation, at the end of the Canto, could have made amends for.
B. iv. C. i. S. xiii.
With that her glistring helmet she unlaced,
Which doft, her golden locks that were upbound,
Still in a knott unto her heeles downe traced.
Marsifa thus discovers herself,
Al trar de gli elmi tutti vider come
Havea lor dato ajuto una donzella.
Fa conosciuta a l'auree crespe chiome
Ed a l'faccia delicata, &c.
C. 26. S. 28.
Now when Marsisa had put off her bever,
To be a woman everie one perceive her.
xxv.
Her golden hair trust up with careless grace
Her forehead faire, &c.
Harrington.
A few stanzas above she is compar'd to Bellona;
Stimato egli hauria lei forse Bellona.
S. 24.
So our author, St. 14.
Some, that Bellona in that warlike guise
To them appear'd—
See a like discovery, B. 3. C. 9. S. 20, 21. Spenser's Britomart is a manifest copy of Ariosto's Bradamante and Marsisa.
B. iv. C. ii. S. iv.
—The bold Sir FERRAUGH hight.
Sir Ferraugh is one of Ariosto's knights.
B. iv. C. iii. S. xlv.
Much more of price, and of more gracious powre
Is this, then that same water of Ardenne;
The which Renaldo drunke in happy houre,
Described by that famous Tuscane penne;
For that had might to change the harts of men
From love to hate.—
That famous Tuscan pen Ariosto describes two fountains in Ardenna, from one of which Renaldo drinks, and from the other Angelica.
E questo hanno causato duo fontane,
Che di diverso effetto hanno liquore;
Ambe in Ardenna, e non sono lontane.
D' amoroso disio l' una empie il core,
Che bee dell' altra, senza amor rimane,
E volge tutto in ghiaccio il primo ardore.
Rinaldo gustò d' una, e amor lo strugge;
Angelica de l' altra, e l' odia, e fugge.
C. 1. S. 78.
The cause of this first from two fountaines grew,
Like in the taste, but in th' effects unlike,
Plaste in Ardenna, ech in others vew,
Who tastes the one loves dart his heart doth strike;
Contrarie of the other doth ensew,
Who drinke thereof their lovers shall mislike;
Renaldo dranke of one, and love much pained him,
The other drank this damsell, and disdained him.
Harrington.
By Spenser's account of this WATER of ARDENNE it might be concluded that Rinaldo drank of that fountain which turn'd love into hate; but it appears from this passage in Ariosto, that he drank of that fountain which produc'd the contrary effect. However it is manifest, that our author alludes to another place in Ariosto, where Renaldo drinks of that fountain which produc'd the effect here describ'd by Spenser. C. 42. S. 63.
B. v. C. ii. S. iv.
—Here beyond,
A cursed cruell Sarazin doth wonne
That keepes a bridges passage by strong hand;
And many errant knights hath there foredonne.
Thus the pagan in Ariosto 29. 35. keeps a bridge, which no man can pass over unless he fight with him; and which occasions many combats in the water, one of which sort is here describ'd between Sir Arthegall and the Saracen, S. 11.
In MORTE ARTHUR we find an account of a knight who kept a bridge
B. 1. C. 111.
, in which a circumstance is mention'd, (not in Ariosto) which Spenser seems to have copied from thence, in the passage under consideration.
"On the third day he rode over a long bridge; and there start upon him sodainly a passing fowle chorle, and he smote his horse, and asked him why he rode over that bridge without his licence."
So Spenser,
Who as they to the passage gan to draw,
A villaine came to them with scull all raw,
That passage-money did of them require.
St. 11.
B. v. C. iii. S. xxxiv.
And called Brigadore.—
The name of his horse. Brigliadoro is the name of Orlando's horse: From
Briglia d' oro,
a golden bridle.
B. v. C. ix. S. xi.
He is describing GUILE.
Als at his backe a great wide net he bore,
With which he seldome fished at the brooke,
But us'd to fish for fools on the dry shore.
This net seems to be borrow'd from the like expedient made use of by Caligorant.
Piacer fra tanta crudelta si prende
D' una
RETE, &c.
C. 15. S. 44. &c.
And in this crueltie he hath great sport,
To use the service of a certaine net.
Harrington.
B. vi. C. xi. S. ii. &c.
Like as is now befalne to this faire maid,
Faire Pastorell, &c.
The distress of Pastorella is something similar to that of Isabel, who is seiz'd by certain outlaws or pirates, and imprison'd in a cave in order to be sold for a slave. C. 12. S. 91. &c.
It has been before remark'd, that Spenser in his BLATANT BEAST had some reference to the story of the
questing
beast mention'd in the romance of MORTE ARTHUR. Yet, notwithstanding, I am apt to think, that Spenser in representing scandal under the shape of a monstrous and unnatural beast, imitated, or rather vyed with Ariosto, who has represented avarice and jealousy under the picture of two hideous beasts; the first of which, like the BLATANT BEAST attacks all estates alike, enters the palace as well the cottage, but vents his rage in a more particular manner against the clergy, sparing not even the pope himself. She is at last supposed to be bound by Leo the tenth, as Jealousy is supposed to be driven to her den by Renaldo. It is not improbable, that Ariosto, in adumbrating these violent passions under the figure of beasts, form'd of many unnatural combinations, might have an eye to the beast in the REVELATIONS, which
"rose out of the sea, having seven heads, and ten horns, and upon his horns ten crowns, and upon his heads the name of blasphemy; and the beast which I saw was like unto a leopard, and his feet were as the feet of a bear, and his mouth as the mouth of a lion."
Revel. c. 13. v. 1, 2, &c.
See F. Q. 6, 12, 23, &c. and Orl. Furios. c. 26. S. 27. and c. 42. S. 44, &c.
The reader will excuse my adding, in this place, a passage which Spenser has drawn from his favorite Italian poet, in the Mourning Muse of Thestylis.
The blinded archer-boy,
Like Larke in showre of raine,
Sate bathing of his wings,
And glad the time did spend
Under those crystall drops,
Which fall from her faire eyes,
And at their brightest beames,
Him proynd in lovely wise.
Cosi a le belle lagrime le piume
Si bagna Amore, e gode al chiaro lume.
C. 11. S. 65.
So the blind god, whose force no man can shunne,
Sits in her eyes, and thence his darts doth fling;
Bathing his wings in her cleare crystal streames,
And sunning them in her rare beauties beames.
Harrington.
Though it must be confess'd that Spenser's verses bear a stronger resemblance to these of Nic. Archias, of a Lady weeping.
Tam suavi in pluvia nitens Cupido
Insidebat, uti solet volucris
Ramo, vere novo, ad novos tepores
Post solem accipere aetheris liquores,
Gestire & pluviae ore blandiendo.
I had almost forget to take notice, that our author, in his Radegunde with her city of females, probably had an eye upon Ariosto's land of Amazons.
But although Spenser appears to have imitated, and consequently to have admir'd Ariosto, from a survey of the preceding instances; and to have been ambitious of rivalling the Orlando Furioso, in composing a poem upon a kindred and similar plan; yet it may be affirmed, that they were both of a genius entirely different. Spenser, amidst all his absurdities, abounds with beautiful and sublime representations; while Ariosto's strokes of true poetry bear a very signal disproportion, in their number, to his sallies of romantic imagination: he gives us the grotesque for the graceful, and extravagance for majesty: he frequently moves our laughter and surprise by the whimsical figures of a Callot, but seldom awakens our admiration by the just portraits of a Raphael. To confess the truth, Ariosto's vein is so far different from Spenser's, that it is absolutely comic, and infinitely better suited to scenes of humour, than to serious and solemn description; he so greatly excels in painting the familiar manners, that what are call'd his tales, are, by far, the most shining passages in his poem. Many of his similes are likewise the strongest indications of his turn for burlesque.
Thus the magician disclosing his enchanted shield, to dazzle the fight of Bradamante, is compar'd to a cat wantonly playing with a mouse, and at last killing it. C. 4. S. 22. Rogero fighting with the orc, a sea-monster, is compar'd to a fly attacking a mastiff, and attempting to sting him in various parts of his body. C. 10. S. 105. Alzirdo being slain by Orlando, his soldiers are said to make a noise like that of a herd of swine, when a wolf has seiz'd one of their little pigs,
un tener porco.
C. 12. S. 78. Zerbino having first insulted Gabrina, and afterwards addressing her in a gentle manner, is compar'd to a dog, who at first furiously assaults a stranger, but afterwards, a crust being thrown to him, fawns upon him. C. 20. S. 139. Orlando and Mandricard fighting together, their weapons being broke to pieces, are compar'd to two peasants who are drubbing each other, having quarrell'd about a water-course, or boundary of land. C. 23. S. 83. Other examples of this sort are obvious to a reader of Ariosto.
But if there should be any readers, who, from some of the fictions in Orlando, would prove that its author was possess'd of an extensive and magnificent invention, let them remember, that these are commonly borrow'd from romances, and adapted occasionally by the poet to the tenor of his allegory; and if it should be granted, that some, or the greatest part of these were deriv'd from his own fancy, yet these, as they so enormously transgress the bounds of nature and probability, ought by no means to be admitted as genuine marks of the TRUE POET.
SECT. VII. Of Spenser's Inaccuracies.
FEW poets will appear to have written with greater rapidity than Spenser. Hurried on by the vehemence of imagination he frequently cannot find time to attend to the niceties of construction, or to stand still and revise what he has before written, in order to prevent contradiction, inconsistency, or repetition. Hence it is, that he not only fails in the connection of single words, but of circumstances, and not only violates the rules of grammar, but those of truth, probability and propriety. He was more sollicitous about giving bold than exact touches to his figures, and was so earnestly intent of forming what was great, that he forgot to produce that which was correct. So that if, with these inaccuracies, we consider the irregularity of Spenser's plan in general, we may venture to conclude, that no poet ever shewed more imagigination with less judgement, than the author of the FAERIE QUEENE. It may be looked upon as a very officious piece of ill-nature to draw together these inferior and subordinate faults, and
—Seek slight faults to find,
Where nature moves, and rapture warms the mind.
But a review of them will tend to explain many passages in particular in our author, and to bring us acquainted with his manner in general.
I shall begin with his Elleipses, in which the reader will find his omission of the Relative to be frequent.
B. i. C. vi. S. x.
As when a greedy wolf through hunger fell,
A silly lamb far from the flocke doth take,
Of whom he meanes his bloody feast to make,
A lyon spyes fast running towards him.
He should have said a greedy wolf WHO
thro' hunger fell.
B. i. C. vii. S. xxxvii.
A gentle youth, his dearely loved squire,
His speare of heben wood behind him bare,
A goodly person, and could menage faire,
His stubborne steede, &c.
WHO is omitted before
could menage faire.
B. i. C. x. S. xlii.
Whose face he made all beasts, to feare and gave
All in his hand.—
That is, into WHOSE hand he gave all.
B. i. C. xi. S. xxi.
He cryde as raging seas are wont to roare,
When wintry storme his wrathfull wreck doth threat,
The roring billowes beat the rugged shore,
As they the earth would shoulder from her seat
And greedy gulfe devoure—
Some such word as WHILE is to be understood before
the roring billowes,
&c.
B. i. C. x. S. li.
Whose staggering steps thy steadie hand doth lead
And shews the way, his sinfull soule to save.
He should have said,
and to
WHICH IT
shews the way.
B. iii. C. ii. S. xlv.
Which lovst the shadow of a warlike knight
No shadow, but a body hath in powre.
No shadow, but WHICH a
body,
&c.
B. ii. C. viii. S. xxxviii.
With that he strooke, and th' other strooke withall,
That nothing seemd mote beare so monstrous might,
The one upon his cover'd shield did fall
And glauncing downe did not his owner bite,
But th' other did upon his troncheon smite.
The one upon his,
&c.
That is the STROKE, or SWORD of
the one,
&c.
And afterwards,
But th' other,
i. e. the STROKE of
the other,
&c.
So again,
4. 6. 13.
So sorely he her strooke that thence it glaunct
Adowne her backe.—
That is, the WEAPON
glaunct,
&c.
B. iv. C. vi. S. xxxvii.
Ne in his face, nor blood or life appear'd,
But senselesse stood, &c.
That is, HE
senselesse stood.
B. iv. C. vii. S. vii.
But certes was with milke of wolves and tigers fed.
But certes
HE
was,
&c.
B. i. Introduct. S. ii.
Whom that most noble Briton prince so long
Sought thro' the world, and suffred so much ill.
He should have said,
and
FOR WHOM
he suffred,
&c.
B. i. C. x. S. xii.
The eldest—
Like sunny beames threwe from her crystall face
That could have daz'd the rash beholders sight
And round about her head did shine like heavens light.
That could have daz'd, i. e. That WHICH, &c. THAT put for
that which
occurs in other places, and may mislead a reader not acquainted with Spenser's manner.
Thus again,
THAT erst him goodly arm'd, now most of all him harm'd
1. 11. 27.
THAT one did reach, the other pusht away.
4. 1. 29.
He should not have omitted WHICH in the last verse,
and
WHICH
round about her,
&c.
B. i. C. x. S. xliii.
Had charge the tender orphanes of the dead,
And widows ayde—
That is,
widows
TO
ayde.
B. i. C. xii. S. ix.
The sight with idle feare did them dismay,
Ne durst approche him nigh—
Ne durst THEY
approche him nigh,
&c.
B. ii. C. ii. S. xxxviii.
As gentle hind, whose sides with cruell steele
Thro lanced, forth her bleeding life doth raine,
Whiles the sad pang approching she doth feele,
Brayes out her latest breath—
SHE should have been inserted before
brayes out,
&c.
B. ii. C. ii. S. xvii.
Sterne melancholy did his courage pass,
And was (for terror more) all arm'd in shining brass.
He means,
and
HE
was for,
&c.
B. ii. C. iv. S. ix.
And eke that hag with many a bitter threat
Still cald upon to kill him in the place.
That is,
still called upon
HIM
to,
&c.
B. v. C. iii. S. xiii.
Which when he had perform'd, then backe againe
To Bragadocchio did his shield restore.
To Bragadocchio
HE
did,
&c.
B. i. C. iii. S. v.
Soon as the royal virgin he did spy,
With gaping mouth at her ran greedily.
That is, HE
ran,
&c.
B. i. C. i. S. iv.
Seemed in heart some hidden care she had,
For IT
seemed,
&c. So St. 32.
Nowe said the lady draweth toward night.
That is, IT
draweth.
So again,
So easy was to quench his flamed mind.
2. 8. 4.
For,
so easy
IT
was,
&c.
B. i. C. x. S. lxii.
As for loose loves are vaine, and vanish into nought.
As for loose loves
THEY
are vaine,
&c.
In these lines,
Was underneath enveloped with gold,
Whose glistring gloss DARKNED with filthy dust.
2. 8. 4.
says Mr. Jortin, DARKNED is put for
was darkned
; and among other instances of Spenser's elleipses, produces the following, in the Tears of the Muses.
And all the sisters
rent
their golden hairs,
And their fair faces with salt humour
steepe.
steep
for
did
steep.—Of this sort there is an elleipsis in these lines of Milton's EPITAPH ON THE MARCHIONESS OF WINCHESTER.
Her high birth, and graces sweet,
Quickly
found
a lover meet;
The virgin-quire for her
request
The God that sits at marriage-feast.
The poet when he wrote
request
had forgot that his former preter-imperfect tense,
found,
was form'd without the sign
did.
It may not be impertinent to remark, that the Marchioness lamented in this Epitaph of Milton, is probably the same with that celebrated by B. Johnson, in an
Elegie on the Lady
ANNE PAWLETT,
Marchioness of
WINTON; the Beginning of which Pope seems to have thought of, when he wrote his
Verses to the Memory of an Unfortunate
LADY. Johnson begins his Elegie,
What gentle ghost, besprent with April dew
Hayles me so solemnly to yonder yew?
And beck'ning wooes me, &c.
In the Underwood.
In which strain Mr. Pope beautifully breaks out,
What beck'ning ghost along the moonlight shade,
Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade?
'Tis she—
Warb. edit. vol. 1.
As Johnson now lies before me, I may perhaps be pardon'd for pointing out another passage in him, which Mr. Pope probably remember'd when he wrote the following.
From shelves to shelves see greedy Vulcan roll,
And lick up all their physic of the soul.
Dunciad. B. 3. v. 81.
Thus Johnson, speaking of a parcel of books,
These, hadst thou pleas'd either to dine or sup,
Had made a meale, for VULCAN TO LICK UP.
An execration upon Vulcane. In the Underwood.
I shall now produce some instances of his confused construction.
B. i. C. iii. S. xii.
Till seeing by her side the Lyon stand
With sudden fearee her pitcher downe she threw,
And fled away; for never in that land
Face of faire lady did she ever view,
And that dread Lyons looke her cast in deadly hew.
After having told us, that seeing the Lyon stand by her, she fled away for fear, he adds, that this was because he never had seen a lady before, which certainly was no reason why she should fly from the lyon. What our author intended to express here, was, that
"at seeing the lyon, and so beautiful a lady, an object never seen before in that country, she was affrighted, and fled."
B. i. C. vi. S. v.
—He gan the fort assaile,
Whereof he weend possessed soone to bee,
And with rich spoile of ransackt chastitie.
Of which he weend soone to bee possessed,
is not improper; but, to be possessed
with rich spoile,
&c. is very inaccurate. Here seems to be likewise somewhat of an elleipsis, and I think he should have said,
rich spoile of
ITS
ransackt chastitie.
B. i. C. x. S. xl.
The fourth appointed by his office was
Poor prisoners to relieve with gracious ayde,
And captives to redeeme with price of brass,
From Turks and Sarazins which them had staid;
And though they faultie were, yet well he waid
That God to us forgiveth everie howre,
Much more than that why they in bands were layd.
The poet says, that his office was to relieve PRISONERS, and to redeem CAPTIVES with money from Turkish slavery; who though guilty of crimes, yet he consider'd that God every hour pardons crimes much greater than those for which they were imprison'd.—By this it should seem, that those enslav'd by the Turks were guilty of crimes, &c. but the poet would signify by
they faultie were,
the prisoners first mention'd, who were deservedly imprison'd on account of their crimes.
Another instance of our author's inaccuracy, is, his tautology, or repetition of the same circumstances.
B. iv. C. xii. S. i.
For much more eath to tell the starres on hy,
Albe they endlesse seeme, &c.
Then to recount the seas posteritie.
The difficulty of numbering the deities present at the marriage of Thames and Medway, he expresses in the same manner, in the stanza immediately preceding.
The which more eath it were for mortall wight,
To tell the sands, or count the starres on hye.
B. vi. C. vi. S. iv.
For whylome he had been a doughty knight,
As any one that lived in his dayes,
And proved oft in many a perilous fight,
In which he grace and glory won alwaies;
And in all battles bore away the bayes;
But being now attackt with timely age
And wearie of this world's unquiet waies,
He tooke himselfe unto this hermitage.
All this we were told a few lines before.
And soothly it was said by common fame,
So long as age enabled him thereto,
That he had been a man of mickle name,
Renouned much in arms, and derring doe;
But being aged now, and weary too
Of warres delights, and worlds contentious toyle,
The name of knighthood he did disavow,
And hanging up his arms, and warlike spoile,
From all the worlds incumbrance did himself assoile.
C. v. S. 37.
To this head we may refer the redundancies of a word.
B. iii. C. vi. S. xi.
It fortuned faire Venus having lost
Her little son, the winged god of love,
* * * * * * * *
xii.
Him for to seeke SHE left her heavenly house.
SHE is unnecessary in the last line, as FAIRE VENUS is the nominative case. Other instances of this fault might be produced.
I shall now cite some instances in which he contradicts himself, and runs into other absurdities, on account of his forgetting, or not reviewing what he had before written, and, in general, from an hasty manner of composition.
B. i. C. iv. S. viii.
Speaking of Pride, he says, she
—shone as Titan's ray.
And in the following stanza he compares her to Phaeton, where he says, she
Exceeding shone, like Phoebus fairest child.
S. 9.
This is a very striking Anti-climax.
B. i. C. xi. S. xlvii.
Another faire like tree eke grew thereby,
Whereof whoso did eat, eftsoones did know
Both good and evil: O mournefull memory,
That tree thro' one man's fault has done us all to die.
Here he tells us, that the tree of knowledge occacasion'd the fall of man; in the stanza before, he affirms the same of the tree of life.
The tree of life the crime of our first father's fall.
S. 46.
B. ii. C. i. S. xxvi, xxvii.
In these stanzas Sir Guyon suddenly
abases
his spear, and begs pardon of the red-crosse knight, for having attack'd him; as if he had just now discover'd him to be the red-crosse knight: whereas he knew him to be so, St. 19. and after that resolves to fight with him.
B. iv. C. v. S. xxxvii.
Speaking of CARE,
He like a monstrous giant seemd in sight,
Far passing Brontes, and Pyracmon great.
If CARE was so monstrous a giant, how could he dwell, with his six servants, in the little cottage above-mention'd?
They spide a little cottage, like some poore man's nest.
S. 32.
B. iv. C. i. S. liv.
The aged dame him seeing so enraged,
Was dead with feare, &c.
The aged dame Glauce might have easily pacified Sir Scudamore, in this place, by telling him, that Britomartis was a woman; and as she was so much terrified, it was highly natural, that she should assure him of it; tho' this would have prevented an entertaining surprise, which the poet reserv'd for. 4. 6. 28.
B. i. C. ix. S. vi.
Aread, prince Arthur—
Arthur and Una have been hitherto represented as entire strangers to each other; and it does not appear how Una became acquainted with the name of this new knight.
B. i. C. viii. S. xliii, &c.
It is unnatural, that the red-crosse knight should be so suddenly reconcil'd to Una, after he had forsaken her for her supposed infidelity and impurity. The poet should certainly have express'd an eclaircissement between them.
B. vi. C. xi. S. li.
It was an instance of Sir Calidore's courage, to restore to Coridon his flocks; but not of his courtesie, to carry away his love Pastorella. The poet should have manag'd the character of his PATRON OF COURTESIE with more art.
As Spenser has drawn the character of his hero prince Arthur from history, he has limited himself to a particular period of time, in which all the events of his poem, however fictitious or imaginary, are supposed to have happen'd: upon this account all discoveries made since that particular period of time, are improperly specified; and the mention of them may be justly term'd an anachronism. Our author has been guilty of one or two faults of this kind, which we shall lay before the reader.
And evermore their hideous ordinance,
Upon the bulwarkes cruelly did play.
2. 11. 14.
Spenser should have spar'd this circumstance of fire-arms. Ariosto was more cautious in this matter; for tho' he has suppos'd the use of them upon a particular occasion in the age of Charlemagne; yet, notwithstanding, he hints, that they were soon afterwards destroy'd, and that the use of them was not reviv'd till many years after; and as the invention, so the revival of them is attributed to the devil. C. 11. S. 22. It has been observ'd, that Milton copied the invention of fire-arms from Ariosto; and it may further be observ'd, that Milton, in the speech which one of the evil angels makes upon them,
—They shall fear we have disarm'd
The thunderer of his only dreaded bolt,
Par. L. 6. 490.
has copied from himself, in one of his latin epigrams.
There are other strokes likewise in Milton's lesser poems, which he has transferr'd into his GREAT WORK. Thus in SAMSON Agonistes,
THRICE SHE ASSAY'D with flatt'ring pray'rs and sighs,
And amorous reproaches, to win from me
My capital secret, &c.
THRICE I deluded her.—
v. 392.
This form he has exactly repeated in PARADISE LOST.
THRICE HE ASSAY'D, and THRICE, in spite of scorn,
Tears, such as angels weep, burst forth.—
1. 619.
In COMUS,
—A perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets
Where no CRUDE SURFEIT REIGNS.
In PARADISE LOST,
Quaff immortality and joy, SECURE
OF SURFEIT.—
5. 638.
In COMUS,
A thousand LIVERIED ANGELS LACKEY her.
The following, in PARADISE LOST, is a kindred image,
About her as a GUARD ANGELIC plac'd.
8. 559.
Among Milton's IMITATIONS OF HIMSELF, I think the following have been unobserved. In Il PENSEROSO,
Sometimes let gorgeous TRAGEDY
In scepter'd pall come sweeping by,
Presenting THEBES, or PELOPS' line,
Or the Tale of TROY divine.
It appears, that the Greek Tragedies, founded upon these stories made an early, and consequently a lasting impression upon Milton. In his first elegy to Diodatus, written before he was arriv'd at his twentieth year, he particularises them, where (as in the lines just cited) he is speaking of tragedy in general.
Seu maeret
PELOPEA DOMUS,
sen nobilis
ILI,
Seu luit incestos aula
CREONTIS
avos.
B. 1. El. 1.
In L' ALLEGRO,
—Lydian Aires
MARRIED to immortal verse.
Thus, at a SOLEMN MUSIC,
—Voice and verse
WED your divine sounds.—
In COMUS,
Plucking ripe clusters from the TENDER SHOOTS.
Of a vine, in the TRANSLATION of PSALM, 80.
—make their food
Her grapes and TENDER SHOOTS.
In PARADISE REGAIN'D,
Tall stripling youths rich-clad, of fairer hue
Than GANYMED or HYLAS.
2. 352.
It singles out these as two very beautiful youths in one of his latin elegies.
Talis, in aeterno,
JUVENIS SIGEIUS,
olympo,
Miscet amatori pocula plena Jovi:
Aut qui formosas pellexit ad oscula nymphas,
Thiodomanteus naiade raptus
HYLAS.
B. 1. El. 7,
In the first of which verses he had eye to this of Tibullus,
TALIS IN AETERNO
faelix Vertumnus
OLYMPO.
B. 4. 2.
It has been before remark'd, that Milton takes all opportunities of illustrating the power of music, and of expressing his extreme fondness for it: These verses, in COMUS, relating to that subject,
—SYLLA wept,
And chid her BARKING waves into ATTENTION,
And FELL CHARYBDIS murmurd hoarse applause,
strongly resemble what Silius Italicus describes of a Sicilian Shepherd playing on his reed,
Scyllaei tacuere canes, stetit atra charybdis.
14. 476.
But shall we suspect Milton of plagiarism because the Roman poet wrote FIRST? was it not NATURAL for either poet in expressing the force of music in the ISLE OF SICILY, to mention it's influence on two most implacable objects, which the SITUATION of the Musician, in both cases, suggested?
The fable of the garden of the Hesperides seems to have affected the imagination of Milton in a very particular manner, as his allusions to it are most remarkably frequent, viz.
And LADIES of th' HESPERIDES—
PAR. REG. 2. 357.
But Beauty, like the fair HESPERIAN TREE,
Laden with blooming gold—
COMUS.
All amidst the GARDENS FAIR
Of HESPERUS, and his daughters three,
That sing about the golden tree.
ibid.
Like those HESPERIAN GARDENS fam'd of old.
PAR. LOST, 3. 568.
—HESPERIAN FABLES true,
If true, here only, &c.
ibid. 4. 520.
—And VERDANT ILES
HESPERIAN.
ibid. 8. 631.
And in the original draught of the Spirit's prologue to COMUS, he has painted these delicious islands with the utmost luxuriancy of fancy. In LYCIDAS,
WEEP NO MORE, wofull shepherds, WEEP NO MORE,
For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead,
* * * * * * * *
—Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high,
* * * * * * * *
Where other groves, and other streams along,
With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves,
And hears the UNEXPRESSIVE NUPTIAL SONG,
In the BLEST KINGDOMS meek of joy and love,
There entertain him all the SAINTS above,
In solemn troops, and sweet societies,
Who SING, and singing in their glory move.
* * * * * * * * * *
Henceforth thou art the GENIUS OF THE SHORE.
The same genius dictated similar sentiments on a similar occasion.
Nec te Lethaeo fas quaesivisse sub orco,
Nec tibi conveniunt lacrymae,
NEC FLEBIMUS ULTRA,
Ite procul lacrymae,
PURUM COLIT AETHERA
Damon,
HEROUMQUE ANIMAS
inter,
DIVOSQUE
perennes,
Aethereos haurit latices.
—
—
Quin tu caeli post jura recepta
DEXTER
ades,
PLACIDUSQUE FAVE QUICUNQUE VOCARIS,
Seu tu noster eris Damon, sive
AEQUIOR AUDIS
Diodotus, quo te divino nomine cuncti
Caelitolae norint,
SYLVISQUE VOCABERE DAMON.
* * * * * * * * *
En etiam tibi
VIRGINEI
servantur
HONORES;
Ipse caput nitidum cinctus rutilante coronâ,
Laetaque frondentis gestans umbracula palmae,
Aeternum perages
IMMORTALES HYMENAEOS;
CANTUS
ubi, choreisque furit lyra mista beatis.
Epitaphium
DAMONIS.
I shall conclude this tedious note with observing, that Milton's genius for describing DIVINE things, which shines with so distinguished a lustre in the PARADISE LOST, discover'd itself in some of his most early productions. In the juvenile poems we meet with frequent descriptions of the bliss and splendor of heaven, of the glory of celestial beings, of angelic music, and of other objects placed
Beyond the visible diurnal sphere.
of this, a passage cited above, as is the ode on the NATIVITY, on the CIRCUMCISION, at a SOLEMN MUSIC, &c. &c. are testimonies. Even at the age of seventeen, we find that a disposition to conceive images of this sort began to dawn in his imagination,
Donec
NITENTES
ad
FORES
Ventum est olympi, &
REGIAM CRYSTALLINAM,
et
STRATUM SMARAGDIS ATRIUM.
In OB. PRAESUL. ELIENSIS.
At mihi major erit, qui lurida creditur arma,
Et trifidum fulmen surripuisse Jovi.
In Inventorem Bombardae.
Chaucer in his account of the battle of Anthony and Cleopatra with Octavius, mentions guns.
With grisly soune, outgoith the grete gonne.
Leg. of Cleopatra, v. 58:
B. vi. C. ii. S. v.
All in a woodman's jackett he was clad
Of Lincolne greene.—
It would be difficult to prove that a manufacture of green cloth subsisted at Lincoln in the age of king Arthur; and indeed if it could, we should not readily dispense with the poet's mention of it. To these may be added some of his ambiguities.
B. i. C. vii. S. xlvi.
Bred in the loathly lakes of Tartary.
The poet should not have us'd Tartary here for Tartarus, as the reader might mistake it for the country of that name. He has committed the same fault in Virgil's Gnat.
Lastly the squalid lakes of TARTARIE.
B. ii. C. x. S. xv.
Did head against them make, and strong MUNIFICENCE.
By MUNIFICENCE our author signifies
defence
or
fortification
; from
munio
and
facio.
This is a word very injudiciously coin'd by Spenser, as the same word in our language signifies quite another thing. Milton perhaps is more blameable for a fault of this kind.
Now had they brought the work, by wondrous art
PONTIFICAL.
Par. Lost, 10. 313.
As the ambiguous term
pontifical
may be so easily construed into a pun, and may be interpreted
popish,
as well as
bridge-making.
B. iii. C. i. S. xxxvi.
And whilst he bathd with her two crafty spyes
She secretly would search each dainty lim.
crafty spyes
is here a periphrasis for eyes, but a very inartificial one; as it may so easily be mistaken for two persons whom she employ'd, with herself, to search, &c.
SECT. VIII. Of Spenser's imitations of himself.
COmmentators of less taste than learning, of less judgment than ostentation, have taken infinite pains to point out those passages which their respective authors have imitated from others.
The curious reader is more particularly referr'd to that extensive and elaborate series of quotation, entitled,
"VIRGILIUS COLLATIONE SCRIPTORUM GRAECORUM ILLUSTRATUS OPERA & INDUSTRIA FULVII URSINI.
This enquiry is executed with a modest reserve, and extended no farther than to those passages which are distinguish'd with more indubitable evidences of transcription or imitation, might (it should seem) prove equally instructive and entertaining: as it would the better enable us to regulate our idea of the merit and character of an author, by ascertaining what degree of genuine invention is to be allow'd him, and by shewing how far he has improv'd the materials of another by his own art and manner of application; at the same time that it must necessarily gratify the inquisitive disposition of every reader. But where there are even the most apparent traces of likeness, how very seldom can it be affirm'd, with any truth, as a late very sagacious critic
See, A DISCOURSE on POETICAL IMITATION.
has amply prov'd, that an imitation was intended? and how few of the commentators above-mention'd are there, who do not (to use his own words) mistake RESEMBLANCES for THEFTS?
It is true, in general, that parallellists mistake resemblances for thefts; but this assertion by no means affects the instances which I have given, in two former sections, of Spenser's imitations from Chaucer and Ariosto. Spenser is universally acknowledg'd to have been an attentive reader, and profess'd admirer of both those poets; his imitations from the former are most commonly LITERAL; and what he has copied from the latter, are ARTIFICIAL FICTIONS, which consisting of UNNATURAL COMBINATIONS, could not, on account of their SINGULARITY, be fallen upon by both poets
accidentally
; as NATURAL APPEARANCES might be, which lie
expos'd
and
obvious
to all, at all times: so that we may safely pronounce the resemblances produc'd in the sections above-mention'd, to have been INTENDED.
As this then is a business which proceeds upon an uncertain foundation, affording the amusement of conjecture rather than the satisfaction of truth; it may perhaps be a more serviceable undertaking, to produce an author's IMITATIONS OF HIMSELF: and this will be more particularly useful in the three following respects, viz. It will discover the FAVORITE IMAGES of an author; it will teach us how VARIOUSLY he expresses the same thought; and it will often EXPLAIN DIFFICULT passages, and words.
B. i. Introduct. S. 3.
Faire Venus sonne that with thy cruell dart,
At that good knight so cunningly didst rove,
* * * * * * * * * *
Lay now thy deadly heben bowe apart.
Again,
Like as Cupido on Idaean hill,
When having laid his cruell bowe aside,
And mortall arrowes, wherewith he doth fill
The world with murd'rous spoyles, and bloody pray,
With his faire mother he him dights to play,
And with his goodly sisters, &c.
2. 8. 6.
And in the following, speaking of Cupid in the garden of Adonis,
Who when he hath with spoyles and crueltie
Ransackt the world, and in the wofull hearts
Of many wretches sett his triumphs hie,
Thither resorts, and laying his sad darts
Aside, with faire Adonis playes his wanton parts.
3. 6. 49
Thus again,
And eke amongst them little Cupid plaid
His wanton sports, beeing returned late
From his fierce warres, and having from him layd
His cruell bowe, wherewith he thousands hath dismayd.
2. 9. 34.
B. i. C. viii. S. xxix.
Prince Arthur enters Orgoglio's castle.
Then gan he loudly thro' the house to call,
But no man car'd to answer to his cry,
There reign'd a solemne silence over all,
Nor voice was heard, nor wight was seen in bowre or hall.
This affecting image of silence and solitude is again to be met with, after Britomart had survey'd the rich furniture of Busirane's house.
But more she marvail'd, that no footings trace,
Nor wight appear'd, but wasteful emptinesse,
And solemne silence over that place
3. 11. 53.
B. i. C. xii. S. xxxix.
—Many an angels voice,
Singing before th' eternall majestie
In their trinall triplicities on hie.
Thus in an HYMNE of heavenly love; of angels,
There they in their trinal triplicities,
About him wait.—
The image of the angels singing in their trinall triplicities, puts me in mind of a passage in Milton's LYCIDAS, where the pointing seems to be wrong.
There entertain him all the saints above,
In solemn troops, and sweet societies,
Who sing, and singing in their glory move.
According to the present pointing, the sense is,
"The saints who are in solemn troops, and sweet societies, entertain him;"
or, entertain him in [among] their solemn troops, and sweet societies: but if the comma was struck off after
Societies,
another and more beautiful meaning would be introduced, viz.
"The saints who SING IN solemn troops and sweet societies, entertain him, &c."
B. ii. C. iii. S. xxiv.
Of Belphaebe speaking,
And twixt the pearles and rubies softly brake
A silver sound—
Thus in Sonnet 81.
But fairest she, when so she doth display
The gate with pearles, and rubies richly dight,
Thro' which her words so wise do make their way.
Ariosto gives us pearls and corall for the lips and teeth.
Che da i coralli, e da le pretiose
Perle uscir fanno i dolci accenti mozzi.
C. 12. S. ult.
The corall and the perle by nature wrought.
Harrington.
B. ii. C. iii. S. xxv.
Upon her eyelids many graces sate
Under the shadow of her even browes.
In Sonnet 40.
When on each eye-lid sweetly doe appeare
An HUNDRED GRACES as in shade to sit.
And in a verse of his
The following passage from Sir T. More's English workes, London, 1557, may perhaps give the reader some idea of the nature of our poet's PAGEANTS.
Mayster Thomas More in hys youth devysed in hys fathers house in London, a goodly hangyng of fyne paynted clothe, with nyne pageauntes, and verses over every of those pageauntes: which verses expressed and declared, what the ymages in those pageauntes represented: and also in those pageauntes were paynted, the thynges that the verses over them dyd (in effecte) declare; which verses here folowe.
In the first pageaunt was painted a boy playing at the top and squyrge, and over this pageaunt was written as followeth.
CHILDHODE.
I am called CHILDHODE, in play
all my mynde,
To cast a coyte, a cokstele, and a ball;
A toppe can I sett, and dryve it in his kynde;
But would to God these hateful bookes all,
Were in a fyre brent to powder small.
Then myght I lede my lyfe always in play,
Whych lyfe God send me to myne endyng day.
In the second pageaunt was paynted a goodly freshe younge man, ryding uppon a goodly horse, havynge a hawke on his fyste, and a brase of grayhowndes folowyng him, and under the horse fete, was paynted the same boy, that in the fyrste pageaunt was playing at the top and squyrge; and over this second pageaunt the wrytyng was thus.
MANHOD.
MANHOD I am, therefore I me delyght
To hunte and hawke, to nourish up and fede
The grayhownde to the course, the hawke to th' flyght,
And to bestryde a goode, and lusty stede;
These thynges become a very man in dede,
Yet thynketh this boy his peevish game sweeter,
But what? no force,—his reason is no better."
After which the aforesaid young man is introduced on the ground as a victim to Venus and Cupid, who stand over him; and afterwards is represented sitting on Venus and Cupid, &c. &c. but thus much by way of specimen.
PAGEANTS preserv'd by E. K.
Notes on JUNE.
An hundred graces on her eye-lids sate.
Which he drew from a modern Greek poem ascrib'd to Musaeus,
—
.
V. 63.
In the Hymn of heavenly love we find a thousand graces.
Sometimes upon her forehead they behold
A thousand graces masking in delight.
Our author, in the FAERIE QUEENE, has also copied from the same poem ascrib'd to Musaeus. Scudamore, in the Temple of Venus, is much in the same circumstances with Leander.
Tho shaking off all doubt, and shamefast feare,
Which ladies love I heard had never wonne
'Mongst men of worth, I to her stepped neare,
And by the lilly hand her labour'd up to reare.
4. 10. 53.
,
V. 99. & seq.
And afterwards,
,
* * * * * * *
.
Audacter autem ob amorem impudentiam affectans,
* * * * * * *
Sed ipse audacter adibat prope puellam
* * * * * * *
Tacite quidem stringens roseos digitos puellae.
WOOMANHOOD rebukes Scudamore for this insult, whom Scudamore answers,
Saying, it was to knight unseemly shame,
Upon a recluse virgin to lay hold;
That unto Venus' services was sold.
To whom I thus: nay, but it fitteth best,
For Cupids man with Venus' mayd to hold;
For ill your goddesse services are drest
By virgins, and your sacrifices let to rest.
S. 54.
In the same manner Hero rebukes, and Leander answers.
—
;
* * * * * *
.
—
Quid me, infelix, Virginem trahis?
Veneris non te decet Deae sacerdotem sollicitare.
* * * * * *
Leander answers,
,
.—
Veneris ut sacerdos exerce Veneris opera;
Huc ades, initiare nuptialibus Legibus Deae;
Virginem non decet administrare Veneri;
Virginibus Venus non gaudet.
—
But, to return to the subject.
B. ii. C. xii. S. lxvii.
And the Ivorie in golden mantle gownd.
Thus in the Epithalamion.
Her long loose yellow lockes—
* * * * *
Doe like a golden mantle her attire.
It is remarkable, that Spenser's females, both in the FAERIE QUEENE, and in his other poems, are all describ'd with yellow hair. And in his general description of the influence of beauty over the strongest men, he particularizes golden tresses.
And mighty hands forgett their manlinesse,
Drawn with the power of an hart-robbing eye,
And wrapt in fetters of a GOLDEN TRESSE.
5. 8. 1.
Whether this was done in compliment to Q. Elizabeth, who had yellow hair, or in imitation of the Italian poets, who give most of their women tresses of this colour, I leave to the determination of the reader.
B. iii. C. i. S. xxxvi.
Speaking of Venus, while Adonis was bathing.
And throwe into the well sweet rosemaries,
And fragrant violets, and pancies trim,
And ever with sweet nectar she did sprinkle him.
Thus in the Prothalamion.
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 yield,
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 flowers thro' Thessaly they streeme.
To these we may add,
—And ever as the crew
About her daunct, sweet flowres that far did smell,
And fragrant odours they upon her threw.
6. 10. 14.
The circumstance of throwing flowers into the water, is not unlike what Milton says of Sabrina's stream.
—The shepherds, at their festivals,
Carol her goodness lowd in rustic layes,
And throw sweet garland-wreaths into her streame,
Of pancies, pinks, and gaudy daffadils.
Comus, v. 848.
Statius introduces Love and the Graces sprinkling Stella and Violantilla, on their wedding-night, with flowers and odours.
—
Nec blandus Amor nec Gratia cessat
Amplexum virides optatae conjugis artus
Floribus innumeris, & olenti spargere thymbra.
Epithalam. Sylv. B. 1, 2. v. 19.
And in another place he speaks of Venus pouring the fragrance of Amomum over Earinus in great abundance; a circumstance not much unlike that just mention'd concerning Venus and Adonis.
—
Hunc multo Paphie saturabat amomo.
Com. Earin. Sylv. B. 3. 4. v. 82.
B. iii. C. vii. S. xvi.
Of the witches son, who falls in love with Florimel.
Oft from the forrest wildings he did bring,
Whose sides empurpled were with smiling red;
And oft young birds, which he had taught to sing
His mistresse prayses sweetly caroled:
Girlands of flowres sometimes for her faire head
He fine would dight; sometimes the squirrel wild
He brought to her in bands, &c.
Such presents as these are made by Coridon to Pastorell.
And oft when Coridon unto her brought,
Or little sparrows stolen from their nest,
Or wanton squirrels in the woods farre sought.
6. 9. 40.
B. i. C. ix. S. 24.
—staring wide
With stony eyes, and hartless hollow hewe,
Astonisht stood, as one that had espide
Infernall furies with their chaines untide.
Spenser often expresses fear, or surprize, in this manner,
—As one affright
With hellish fiends, or furies mad uprore.
2. 5. 37.
—The stony feare
Ran to his heart, and all his sense dismay'd,
Ne thenceforth life, ne courage did appeare,
But as a man whom hellish fiends have frayd,
Trembling long time he stood.
2. 8. 46.
—Oft out of her bed she did astart,
As one with vew of gastly fiends affright.
3. 2. 29.
Ne wist he what to thinke, or to devise.
But like as one whom fiends have made afraid,
He long astonisht stood; ne ought he said,
Ne ought he did; but with fast-fixed eyes
He gazed still upon that snowy maid.
5. 3. 18.
From the passages already alleged, and from some some others which I shall produce, it will appear, that Spenser particularly excells in painting affright, confusion, and astonishment.
Abessa's affright at seeing the Lion and Una.
1. 3. 12.
Full fast she fled, ne ever lookt behind,
* * * * * * *
And home she came, where as her mother blind
Sate in eternall night; nought could shee say,
But suddaine catching hold, did her dismay,
With quaking hands, and other signs of feare;
Who full of gastly fright, and cold dismay,
Gan shut the dore.—
1. 3. 12.
The behaviour of Abessa and Corecca, when Kirkrapine was torn in pieces by the Lion.
His feareful friends weare out the wofull night,
Ne dare to weepe, nor seeme to understande
The heavy hap, which on them is alight,
Afraid lest to themselves the like mishappen might.
1. 3. 20.
DESPAIRE has just persuaded the red-crosse knight to kill himself.
1. 9. 48.
The knight was much enmoved with his speach,
That as a swords point thro' his hart did pearce,
And in his conscience made a secret breach,
Well-knowing true all that he did reherse,
And to his fresh remembrance did reverse
The uglie hue of his deformed crimes,
That all his manly powres it did disperse,
As he were charmed with inchanted rimes,
That oftentimes he quakt, and fainted oftentimes.
xlix.
In which amazement when the miscreant
Perceived him to waver weake and fraile,
Whiles trembling horror did his conscience dart,
And hellish anguish did his soule assaile;
To drive him to despaire and quite to quaile,
He shewed him painted in a table plaine
The damned ghosts that do in torments waile,
And thousand fiends that do them endlesse paine
With fire and brimstone, which for ever shall remaine.
l.
The sight whereof so throughly him dismaid,
That nought but death before his eyes he saw,
And ever-burning wrath before him laid,
By righteous sentence of th' Almighties law;
Then 'gan the villaine him to overawe,
And brought unto him swords, ropes, poyson, fire,
And all that might him to perdition draw,
And bade him chuse what death he would desire,
For death was due to him, that had provokt Gods ire.
li.
But when as none of them he saw him take,
He to him raught a dagger sharpe and keene,
And gave it him in hand; his hand did quake,
And tremble like a leaf of aspine greene;
And troubled bloud through his pale face was seene
To come and goe, with tydings from the hart,
As it a running messenger had beene;
At last, resolv'd to work his final smart
He lifted up his hand, that backe againe did start.
It is a trite observation, that we paint that best, which we have felt most. Spenser's whole life seems to have consisted of disappointments and distress; so that he, probably, was not unacquainted with the bitter agonies of a despairing mind, which the warmth of his imagination, and, what was its consequence, his sensibility of temper contributed to render doubly severe. Unmerited and unpitied indigence ever struggles hardest with true genius; and a good taste, for the same reasons that it enhances the pleasures of life, sustains with uncommon torture the miseries of that state,
"in which (says an incomparable moralist) every virtue is obscured, and in which no conduct can avoid reproach; a state in which chearfulness is insensibility, and dejection fullenness, of which the hardships are without honour, and the labours without reward."
To these may be added his personage FEAR.
Next him was FEAR all arm'd from top to toe,
Yet thought himselfe not safe enough thereby;
But fear'd each shadow moving to and fro;
And his owne armes when glittering he did spy,
Or clashing heard, he fast away did fly,
As ashes pale of hew, and wingy-heel'd;
And evermore on Danger fix'd his eye,
'Gainst whom he alwaies bent a brazen shield,
Which his right hand unarmed fearfully did wield.
3. 12. 12.
Again,
When Scudamour those heavy tidings heard
His hart was thrild with point of deadly feare,
Ne in his face, or blood or life appear'd,
But senselesse stood, like to amazed steare
That yet of mortal stroke the stound doth beare.
4. 6. 37.
A priest of Isis after having heard the dream of Britomart.
Like to a weake faint-harted man he fared,
Thro' great astonishment of that strange sight;
And with long locks upstanding stiffly stared,
Like one adawed with some dreadfull spright.
5. 7. 20.
Other instances of this sort might be cited; but these are the most striking.
It is proper to remark, in this place, that Spenser has given three large descriptions, much of the same nature, viz. The Bower of Bliss, 2. 12. The Gardens of Adonis, 3. 5. And the Gardens of the Temple of Venus, 4. 10. all which, though, in general, the same, his invention has diversified with many new circumstances; as it has likewise his Mornings: and perhaps we meet with no poet who has more requently, or more minutely, at the same time, delineated the Morning, than Spenser. He has introduced two historical genealogies of future kings and princes of England, 3. 3. and, 2. 10. beside two or three other shorter sketches of English history. He often repeatedly introduces his allegorical figures, which he sometimes describes with very little variation from his first representation; particularly, DISDAIN, FEAR, ENVY, and DANGER. In this poem we likewise meet with two hells, 1. 5. 31. and 2. 7. 21.
It may not be foreign to the purpose of this Section, to lay before the reader some uncommon words and expressions, of which Spenser, by his frequent use, seems particularly fond.
B. ii. C. v. S. xxxii.
That round about him dissolute did PLAY
Their wanton follies, and light merriment.
Spenser often uses the verb PLAY, in this sense, with an accusative case.
A multitude of babes about her hong,
PLAYING their sports.—
1. 10. 31.
—The fry of children young
Their wanton sports, and childish mirth did PLAY.
1. 12. 7.
Then do the salvage beasts begin to PLAY
Their pleasant friskes.—
4. 10. 46.
But like to angels PLAYING heavenly toyes.
5. 10. 42.
—PLAYING his childish sport.
5. 16.
How Mutability in them doth PLAY
Her cruel sports—
7. 6. 1.
And in an Hymne of Love.
There, with thy daughter Pleasure, they do PLAY
Their hurtlesse sports.—
To these we may add,
—did SPORT
Their spotlesse pleasure, and sweet love's content.
4. 10. 26.
We find PLAY used after this manner in Milton.
—For Nature here
Wanton'd as in her prime, and PLAY'D at will
Her virgin fancies.—
Par. Lost, 5. v. 295.
B. i. C. ii. S. xliii.
—In this MISFORMED howse.
Spenser often arbitrarily prefixes MIS to a word, viz. misfeigning, 1. 3. 40. misdiet, 1. 4. 23. misaymed, 1. 8. 8. misborne, 1. 5. 42. misdoubted, 4. 2. 23. mischallenge, 4. 3. 11. misconceit, and misfare, 4. 6. 2. misregard, 4. 8. 29. misthought, 4. 8. 58. mistrained, 5. 11. 54. misfell, 5. 5. 10. misdoubtfull, 5. 6. 3. misdight, 5, 7. 37. misdesert, 6. 1. 12. misgotten, 6. 1. 18. miscreated, 2. 7. 42. I have been the more prolix in collecting these instances, in order to justify a very happy conjecture of Mr. Jortin
Remarks, pag. 69.
, without which it will be difficult to make sense of a passage in our author, viz.
Some like to hounds, some like to apes DISMAYD.
2. 11. 11.
Mr. Jortin proposes to read MISMADE, i. e.
ill-shaped
; an alteration which we cannot reject, when we consider the liberties Spenser took in adding MIS to a word. He probably sent it to the press
mismayd,
that it might rhyme more exactly (and that Spenser was very exact in this point, I have before endeavour'd to prove) with
assayd,
and
arrayd
; but the compositors were better acquainted with
dismayd,
which they accordingly adopted.
B. ii. C. iv. S. xliv.
—When Rancour rife
Kindles revenge, and threats his RUSTIE knife.
So,
[armd]—some with long speares,
Some RUSTIE knives.—
2. 9. 13.
Bitter despight, with Rancour's RUSTIE knife.
1. 4. 35.
[a wound]
In which a RUSTIE knife long time had fixed stood.
1. 9. 36.
And of DANGER,
A net in th' one hand, and a RUSTIE blade
In th' other was.—
3. 12. 11.
The steeds of Night are thus describ'd,
Their RUSTIE bits did champ.—
1. 5. 20.
The word RUSTIE seems to have convey'd the idea of somewhat very loathsome and horrible to our author. In Virgil's Gnat he applies it to
horror.
Nor those same mournfull kingdoms compassed
With RUSTIE horror.—
I will hence take occasion to correct a passage in Chaucer, in the character of the Reve.
And by his side he bare a RUSTIE blade.
Prolog. v. 620.
I do not perceive the consistency of the Reves wearing a
rustie
sword; I should rather be inclin'd to think that the poet wrote
trustie
blade.
And by his side he bare a TRUSTIE blade.
B. iii. C. i. S. lxii.
And to her weapon ran; in mind to GRIDE
The loathed leachour—
Spenser frequently uses GRIDE, which signifies to
pierce.
This word, as E. K. remarks in the Pastoral of Februarie, is often used by Lidgate, but never once by Chaucer. Spenser was very well versed in all our antient English bards, but I do not remember that he pays a compliment to any of them, Chaucer excepted
Passim.
, and the
Epilogue to the Aeglogues.
author of Pierce Plowman. GRIDE is found in the following passages.
—Whose love hath GRYDE
My feeble breast.—
3. 2. 37.
—An arrow—
—Secretly did glide
Into his heart, which it did sorely GRIDE.
3. 9. 29.
Such was the wound that Scudamour did GRIDE.
4. 6. 1.
All as I were through the body GRIDE.
Februarie.
Therewith my soul was sharpely GRIDE.
August.
—A serpent—
With brandisht tongue the emptie ayre did GRIDE.
Virg. Gnat.
And again, in F. Q.
—Through his thigh the mortall steele did GRIDE.
2. 8. 36.
Milton probably adopted this old word from our author.
The GRIDING sword with discontinuous wound
Pass'd through him.—
Par. Lost, 6. 329.
6. 329.
B. ii. C. iii. S. xxv.
That was ambition, rash desire to STIE.
To the earl of Essex.
Mr. Jortin informs us, that STIE signifies to
soar,
to
ascend
; so that the sense of the verse before us, is,
"that was ambition, which is a rash desire of still ascending upwards."
STIE occurs again often.
Thought with his wings to STIE above the ground.
1. 11. 25.
—A storm—
Long here and there, and round about doth STIE.
4. 9. 33.
—Love can higher STIE
Than reason's reach.—
3. 2. 36.
That from this lower tract he dar'd to STIE
Up to the cloudes.
Muipotmos.
Whilst in the smoke she unto heaven did STIE.
V. of Bellay. St. 11.
With bolder wing shall dare aloft to STY
To the last praises of the Faerie Queene.
Par. Lost, 6. 329.
P. 480, Urry's edit.
This word occurs in Chaucer's Testament of Love.
"Ne steyrs to STEY one is none."
Par. Lost, 6. 329.
Where it is used actively,
"to lift one up."
Gower has used this word in the preter-imperfect tense, but neutrally.
And or Christe went out of this erthe here,
And STICHED to heven.—
John Gower unto the noble K. Henry IV. v. 177.
B. i. C. ii. S. iii.
—Death is an equall doome
To good and bad the common INNE of rest.
INNE for
Habitation, Seat,
or
Recess,
is much used by Spenser. In his age this word had not acquir'd the vulgar cast which it would carry with it in modern poesy. The bowre of blisse,
The worldes sweet INNE from paine and wearisom turmoyle.
2. 12. 32.
He shall his dayes with peace bring to his earthly INNE.
3. 3. 29.
And where the chanting birds lull'd me asleepe,
The ghastly owle her grievous INNE doth keepe.
December.
INNHOLDERS is likewise used for inhabitants.
I do possesse the worlds most regiment,
And if ye please it into parts divide,
And every parts INHOLDERS to convent.
7. 7. 17.
B. i. C. xii. S. xxxix.
Driven by FATALL error.—
That is, driven by an error ordain'd by the fates. Again,
At last by FATALL course they driven were.
3. 9. 4.
Nor lesse she fear'd that same FATALL read.
4. 12. 27.
That is, that same decree of the Fates.
Or did his life her FATALL date expire.
2. 8. 24.
That is, her date assigned by the Fates.
Either FATALL end,
Or other mighty cause, us to did hither send.
That is, some end which the Fates intend to accomplish.
3. 3. 14.
FATALIS has sometimes the same signification as Spenser's FATAL. So Virgil,
FATALEM
Aeneam manifesto manifesto numine ferri.
Aen. 11. v. 232.
B. vi. C. vii. S. xix.
The whiles his salvage page that wont be PREST.
PREST is very frequently used by Spenser; in some places it signifies
ready
or
quick
; in others it seems to be used adverbially, for
quickly, immediately.
It is plainly the old French word,
Preste, quick,
or
nimble,
which sometimes is used adverbially. Mr. Jortin derives it from
praesto adesse.
—For what art thou
That makst thyself his dayes-man to prolong
The vengeance PREST?—
2. 8. 28.
That is, instant or present vengeance.
Who him affronting, soone to fight was readie PREST.
4. 3. 22.
That is, readie quickly.
In which his work he had sixe servants PREST.
4. 5. 36.
That is, six ready, or nimble, servants; or perhaps, present.
So hard behind his backe his foe was PREST.
4. 8. 41.
That is, His foe was very near him behind.
To warne her foe to battell soone be PREST.
5. 7. 27.
That is, be soone ready to fight with her.
—Finding there ready PREST
Sir ARTHEGALL.—
5. 8. 8.
That is, ready and present, ready at hand.
He watcht in close await with weapons PREST.
6. 6. 44.
That is, with his weapons ready, prepar'd. It is us'd in many of these senses by Chaucer.
—Fame—
Was throughout Troy ifled with prest wings.
Troil. and Cr. 4. v. 661.
That is, with nimble or ready wings.
Also these wickid tonguis ben so PREST
Ibid. 9. v. 785.
To speke us harm.
That is, so ready to speak, &c.
Neither was fowle, that commeth of engendrure,
That there ne was PREST in her presence.
Assemble of fowles.
That is, that was not present before her.
This word is to be met with in most of our old English poets, particularly Lord Surrey, Wyat, Tuberville, &c. Harrington much uses it in his Ariosto.
B. vii. C. vi. S. xxviii.
Like a SORT of Steeres.—
SORT occurs perpetually in Spenser, for flock, troop, company, &c.
And like a SORT of bees in clusters swarmed.
5. 4. 36.
That is, a swarm.
But like a SORTE of sheepe.—
5. 4. 44.
That is, a flock.
And all about her altar scattered lay
Great SORTES of lovers.—
4. 10. 43.
That is, a great number, a large assembly of, &c.
A SORT of shepherd-groomes.—
6. 9. 5.
That is, a company of shepherds.
A SORTE of shepherds sewing of the chace.
That is, a company of shepherds hunting.
It is not unfrequent in Harrington. We find it in the Psalms, where few perhaps assign the proper meaning to it.
"How long will ye imagine mischief against every man? Ye shall be slain all the SORT of you."
Psal. 62. 3.
i. e. your whole company, or multitude, shall be slain. The Septuagint render it,
.
But it is time to relinquish a disquisition, which will be discuss'd with so much superior learning and penetration, by one who intends shortly to oblige his country with a dictionary of its language; a work for which its author is admirably qualified, as he has already given us a specimen of his abilities regarding such a subject, if we may judge from a series of essays, in which not only criticism and morality have appear'd with new lustre, but from which the English language has receiv'd new grace and dignity.
SECT. IX. Mr. Upton's opinion, concerning several passages in Spenser, examined.
AS that part of criticism which consists in rectifying the doubtful readings, and explaining the more obscure passages of an antient author, necessarily deals much in conjecture, and from its nature can seldom afford demonstration, and as those who are employ'd in this province, are too frequently compell'd to deduce their positions, not from what is, but from that which seems to be the truth, no science, perhaps, produces a greater diversity of opinions concerning the same point, than this. That which appears a lucky correction or alteration to one commentator, is rejected by another, as absolutely improbable and absurd; and, indeed, the difference of sentiment in this case, is dictated by the different manner of conceiving things, which nature has implanted in the minds of different persons. At the same time it must be acknowledg'd, that the pride of appearing more sagacious than our predecessors, often occasions the variation here insisted upon; and sometimes mere caprice and obstinacy. Though in examining some of the ensuing passages, I may be deceiv'd (as the rest of my brethren have been) by the appearance of truth, which I have assign'd above, as one of the causes of difference of opinion among the critics; I can promise the reader, that I will not suffer myself to be voluntarily misled by any of the last-mention'd corrupt principles and prejudices; and, upon this account, I shall be ready to give up any point, which, in this Section, I shall be proved to have mistaken; hoping to find Mr. Upton a no less candid man, than an ingenious critic.
B. i. C. i. S. xliii.
A fit false dream that can delude the sleepers SENT.
Mr. Upton proposes to read sleepers SHENT, i. e. sleepers ill-treated or abus'd. But I rather think, that we should preserve the common reading, SENT, which is the proper and original spelling of
scent: Sent,
says Skinner (which we falsely write
scent
) is deriv'd
a sentiendo.
Thus the meaning of this verse, is,
"A false dream that could deceive or impose upon the sleeper's perception."
So that
sent,
if we consider its
radix, sentio,
is here plainly made to signify perception in general.
Scent
is often thus spelt in our author.
—At SENT of stranger-guest.
4. 6. 41.
—Through his perfect SENT.
3. 7. 22.
—Of sundry SENT and hewe.
7. 7. 10.
Scent
is often thus written by Milton, and, as Dr. Newton observes, with great propriety.
The season prime for sweetest SENTS and airs.
9. 200.
—the SENT
Of that alluring fruit.
9. 587.
—such a SENT I drew
Of carnage.—
10. 267.
—With SENT of living carcasses.
10. 277.
I confess that SENT is somewhat harsh in this sense: but what will not rhyme oblige the poet to say?
B. i. C. ii. S. xix.
And at his haughtie helmet making mark,
So hugely strooke, that it the steele did rive,
And rent his head; he tumbling downe ALIVE,
With bloody mouth his mother earth did kiss,
Greeting his grave; his grudging ghost did strive
With the fraile flesh; at last it flitted is,
Whither the soules, &c.
Mr. Upton would alter
alive,
in the third verse, to
bilive,
i. e.
immediately:
For, says he, did he tumble down
alive
after his head was cleft asunder?
Such a disquisition would remind one of Burmannus's note on the GEMITU of the dying Turnus, in the last verse of the Aeneid.
"
Illustrat hunc
GEMITUM
R. Titius; & de illo sono, &
RAUCO MURMURE
quod ex occlusa vocali arteria editur, explicat.
"
Without entering into an anatomical disquisition concerning the possibility of living after such a blow; we may remark, that the poet himself intimates to us, that he fell down
alive,
and did not die till after his fall, in these lines,
—His grudging ghost did strive
With the fraile flesh; at last it flitted is.
Mr. Upton would enforce and confirm the justness of his correction, by remarking, that the poet, in these verses, copied from Virgil,
Procubuit
MORIENS,
&
HUMUM
semel ore
MOMORDIT.
Where the word
moriens
doth not imply, that the man who fell down, was dead. I must confess that
alive
is superfluous, but Spenser has run into many other superfluities on account of the frequency of his rhyme. Mr. Upton proposes likewise to write Earth [
His Mother Earth
] with an initial capital, supposing it a PERSON; however, we had, perhaps, better suppose it a THING: for if we understand it to be a Person, what an absurd mixture arises?
—His Mother EARTH did kiss,
Greeting his GRAVE.—
Grave cannot be referr'd to Earth as a Person, but it may be to Earth as a Thing. However, it must be confess'd, that this is such an absurd mixture as Spenser was very likely to have fallen into; and we have numberless instances of this fault, in his account of the rivers which attended the marriage of Thames and Medway, 4. 11. Where God and River (that is, Person and Thing) are often indiscriminately put, the one for the other.
B. xxiii. C. iv. S. i.
And a DRY DROPSIE through his flesh did flow.
How can a Dropsy
flow,
(says Mr. Upton) if it be
dry?
He proposes to remove this contradiction by reading
dire
Dropsy, the
dirus Hydrops
of Horace. But it is plain, that
dry Dropsie
is the species of the Dropsy so call'd, the
dry Dropsy
or
Tympanites
; which Spenser has inaccurately confounded with the other species of the Dropsy, which may not improperly be said to
flow through the flesh
; not considering the inconsistency of making a
dry
thing
flow.
As to Mr. Upton's correction
dire,
I cannot perceive how DIRE could ever be mistaken by the printers for DRY. Mr. Upton might, with equal propriety, have objected to the following words, DRY
Drops.
And with DRY DROPS congealed in her eye.
2. 1. 49.
By the way, it will be difficult also to determine what Spenser means by
congealed,
which occurs again in the same sense, and on the same occasion,
—In whose faire eye
The crystal humour stood congealed round.
3. 5. 29.
But, upon supposition that the tears were actually frozen in her eye, we should think
dry
a very odd epithet for ice.
To return: By DRY
Dropsie,
may not the poet, also mean, a
Dropsie,
which is
the
CAUSE
of thirst?
B. i. C. iv. S. xlii.
Him little answer'd th' angry Elfin knight.
Mr. Upton reads,
Him angry—
Him angry, says Mr. Upton, means the Paynim, who is said to be
enraged
above,
Pardon the error of
enraged
wight.
S. 41.
But because the Paynim is angry, doth it necessarily follow, that the Elfin knight should not be so too? He certainly has reason to be enraged and angry after that bitter taunt, which provokes him to throw down his gauntlet, as a challenge. It is surely wrong to alter the text, when there is neither necessity to require, nor authority to support the correction.
B. i. C. v. S. v.
On th' other side in all mens open view
Duessa placed is, and on a tree
Sans foy his shield is hang'd with bloody hew,
Both those the lawrell garlands to the victor dew.
Mr. Upton thus reads the last line,
Both those AND TH' lawrel garlands to the victor due.
But surely Duessa, and Sans foy his shield, are the laurel garlands, that is, the rewards to be given to the conqueror. Laurel garlands are metaphorically used, and put in apposition with Duessa, and Sans foy his shield. It may be urg'd, as another objection to Mr. Upton's alteration, that Spenser never cuts off the vowel in THE before a consonant; upon which account I would reject Hughes's reading of the following line,
The Nemaean forest 'till th' Amphitryonide—
7. 7. 36.
That editor reads,
TH' Nemaean—
Hughes's reading, indeed, restores the true accent to Nemaean, but Spenser frequently violates the accent of names of ancient places, &c.
B. ii. C. v. S. xxii.
—a flaming fier-brond,
Which she in Stygian lake, AYE BURNING bright,
Had kindled.—
Mr. Upton, upon supposition that we refer
aye burning
to
Fier-brond,
does not approve of reading
aye-burning,
but
y-burning.
He is unwilling to join
ay-
(or
y) burning
to
Stygian Lake
; for, says he, the lake of brimstone burnt not
bright,
but only serv'd to make darkness visible. I allow, that Milton's idea of this lake was, that it serv'd to make
darkness visible.
Par. Lost, 1. v. 63.
But might not Spenser's idea of the Stygian lake be different from Milton's? Besides, why was the weapon carried to this Lake to be
kindled,
unless the Lake was BURNING?
The poet has given us the same image and allegory in another place,
Firebrand of hell, first tind in Phlegethon
By thousand furies.—
4. 2. 1.
B. iii. C. ii. S. iii.
But ah! my rimes too rude and rugged are,
When in so high an object they doe lighte,
And striving fit to MAKE, I feare do MARRE.
Mr. Upton remarks, that MAKE, in this passage, signifies to
verfify,
ΠΟΙΕΙΝ,
versus facere.
But there is reason to think, that
make
is here oppos'd to
marre,
in the same sense as it is in the following lines.
Likewise unequal were her handes twaine,
That one did reach, the other pusht away,
That one did
make,
the other
mard
again.
4. 1. 29.
Make
and
Marr
were thus us'd together, as it were proverbially, in our author's age. Thus Harrington, in his Ariosto,
In vaine I seeke my Duke's love to expound,
The more I seeke to
make,
the more I
mard.
5. 19.
Yes, answer'd Guidon, be I
made
or
mard.
20. 52.
Ten years will hardly
make
that he would
marr.
30. 9.
Thus also G. Tuberville to the Countess of Warwick, Ann. 1570.
Should
make
or
marre
as she saw cause.
And in these lines from an old translation of Ovid, quoted by the author of the Arte of English Poesie. Medea of her children.
Was I able to
make
them I pray you tell,
And am I not able to
marre
them as well?
3. c. 19.
Again, in an old bombast play ridicul'd by Shakespere,
"And
make
and
marre
the foolish fates."
Midn. Dr. 1. 4.
Thus then the meaning of the lines before us is,
"My verses are quite unpolish'd for so sublime a subject, so that I spoil or destroy, instead of producing or executing any thing good or perfect."
In the pastoral JUNE,
make
is manifestly us'd in the sense
versify
; and for this we have moreover the testimony of E. K.
The god of shepheards Tityrus is dead,
Who taught me homely as I can to MAKE.
Again, in Colin Clouts come home again.
Besides her peerlesse skill in MAKING well,
And all the ornaments of wondrous wit.
That is, Q. Elizabeth, whom in another place he calls,
Colin Clout, &c.
a PEERLESSE POETESSE. Again,
And hath he skill to MAKE so excellent,
Yet hath so little skill to bridle Love?
Aprill.
The author of the Art of English poesie generally uses MAKER for POET, ΠΟΙΗΤΗΣ; and if we believe Sir J. Harrington, it was that author who first brought this expression (the significancy of which is much commended by Sir P. Sydney, and B. Johnson) into fashion about the age of Q. Elizabeth.
"Nor to dispute how high and supernatural the name of a MAKER is, so christned in English, by that unknowne godfather, that this last year save one, viz. 1589, set forth a booke called the Arte of English Poesie."
Apology for Poesie, before Ariosto.
B. i. C. vii. S. xxxiii.
But all of diamond perfect pure and
cleene.
Mr. Upton proposes to read
sheene
instead of CLEENE. But if this alteration is necessary here, is it not likewise equally so in the following verses?
And that bright towre all built of crystall CLEENE.
1. 1. 58.
Again in sonnet, 45.
Leave lady in your glasse of crystall CLEENE.
Harrington, in a translation of an epigram of James I. on Sir Philip Sidney's death uses CLEAN as an epithet to Venus's
carknet,
i. e. a necklace.
She threw away her rings, and carknet CLEENE.
Notes on B. 37. of Orl. Fur.
B. v. C. vii. S. xiv.
And swearing faith to eyther on his blade.
Mr. Upton observes, that we have here an instance of Spenser's learning, and that he makes his knights swear by their swords agreeable to that custom among the Goths and Hunns, as related by Jornandes, and Amm. Marcellinus. But I am inclin'd to believe, that our author drew this circumstance from books that he was probably much better acquainted with, old romances. In MORTE ARTHUR we have frequent instances of knights swearing in this manner. The same ceremony occurs again,
—He made him sweare
By his own sword.—
6. 2. 43.
In another place one of the knights swears by his knighthood, an oath which we likewise frequently meet with in Romance.
—As he did on his knighthood sweare.
6. 3. 18.
B. ii. C. vi. S. v.
More swift than swallow SHERES the liquid sky.
Mr. Upton * produces the expression of
sheres the liquid sky,
as one of Spenser's Latinisms, from RADIT
iter liquidum
; and adds, that Milton has likewise us'd the same Latin metaphor; I suppose the passage hinted at by Mr. Upton is, where, Satan
—SHAVES with level wings the deep.
Par. Lost, 2. B. 34.
But
shave
and
shear
are perhaps as different as
rado
and
tondeo.
And TONDET
iter liquidum
would, I believe, be hardly allowed as synonymous to RADIT
iter liquidum.
My opinion is therefore, that Spenser here intended no metaphor, but that he us'd SHERE for
share,
to
cut
or
divide,
as he has manifestly in these instances.
Cymochles sword on Guyons shield yglaunst
And thereof nigh one quarter SHEARD away.
2. 6. 31.
"cut away nigh one quarter."
In the following instances, for the reason above assign'd, we ought to interpret SHEARE [shere] to
cut,
or
divide.
Which with their finny oars the swelling sea did SHEARE.
3. 4. 33.
And thro' the brackish waves their passage SHEARE.
3. 4. 42.
i. e. cut their way or passage. Thus likewise,
An eagle that with plumy wings doth SHEARE
The subtile ayre.—
3. 7. 38.
In another place we have
share,
of Arthegall's sword,
But wheresoever it did light it throughly SHARD.
5. 1. 10.
So Milton, of Michael's sword.
—Deep-entring SHAR'D
All his right side
Par. Lost, 6. 326.
.—
SECT. X. Of Spenser's Allegorical Character.
IN reading the works of an author who lived in a remote age, it is necessary, that we should look back upon the customs and manners which prevailed in his age; that we should place ourselves in his situation, and circumstances; that so we may be the better enabled to judge and discern how his turn of thinking, and manner of composing were biass'd, influenc'd, and, as it were, tinctur'd, by very familiar and reigning appearances, which are utterly different from those with which we are at present surrounded. For want of this caution, too many readers view the knights and damsels, the turnaments and enchantments of Spenser with modern eyes, never considering that the encounters of Chivalry subsisted in our author's age, as has been before hinted
Sect. ii.
; that romances were then most eagerly and universally read; and that thus, Spenser from the fashion of his age, was naturally dispos'd to undertake a recital of chivalrous atchievements, and to become, in short, a ROMANTIC POET.
Nor is it sufficiently consider'd, that a prevalent practice of Spenser's age contributed in a very considerable degree to make him an ALLEGORICAL POET. It should be remember'd that, in the age of which we are speaking, allegory was the subject and foundation of public shews and spectacles, which were then exhibited with a magnificence superior to that of former times; that the vices and virtues personify'd, and represented by living actors, distinguish'd with their respective emblematical types, were generally introduc'd to constitute PAGEANTRIES, which were then the principal entertainments, and shewn not only in private, and upon the stage, but very frequently in the open streets, for solemnising any public occasion. As a proof of what is here advanc'd, I would refer the reader to Hollinshed's
"And to keep that shew companie, (but yet farre off) stoode the SHEWE OF MANHOODE and DESART; as first to be presented: and that shewe was as well furnished as the other: men all, saving one boy called BEAUTIE, for the which MANHOOD, FAVOUR, and DESART, did strive, (or should have contended;) but GOOD FORTUNE (as victor of all conquests) was to come in and overthrow MANHOOD, &c."
Hollingshed's Chron. v. 3. p. 1297.
description of the SHEW OF MANHOOD AND DESERT exhibited at Norwich, before queen Elizabeth; and more particularly to his account of a
Exhibited before the queen at Westminster. ibid. pag. 1317. & seq. See also many other descriptions of this sort in the same author.
It is not improbable, that Milton, in IL PENSEROSO, took his thought of hearing music from the earth, produc'd by some SPIRIT or GENIUS,
And as I wake, sweet music BREATH,
Above, about, or UNDERNEATH.—
From some machinery of Inigo Jones, in his Masques. Hollinshed mentions something like this, in a very curious DEVISE presented before Queen Elizabeth; speaking of the music of some fictitious nymphs; he adds,
"which sure had been a noble hearing, and the more melodious for the variety thereof, because it should come secretlie and strangelie out of the earth."
Ubi supr. p. 1297.
It may perhaps be readily admitted, that Milton drew the whole, from what had been represented in a masque.
TURNEY performed by Fulke Grevile, the lords Arundell, and Windsor, and sir Philip Sydney; who are feign'd to be the children of DESIRE attempting to win the fortresse of BEAUTY; in which last spectacle much poetical invention is discover'd.
In the mean time, I do not deny that our author, was in great measure, induc'd, from the practice of Ariosto, to write a poem partaking much of allegory: yet it must still be granted, that Spenser's manner of allegorizing seems to have rather resulted from some of the spectacles just mention'd, than from what he had red in Ariosto. In fact, Ariosto's allegory does not so much consist in personifying the virtues, vices, and affections of the mind, as it does in adumbrating moral doctrine
It is affirmed by Plutarch, that
"Allegory is that, in which one thing is related and another understood."
Thus Ariosto RELATES the adventures of Orlando, Rogero, Bradamante, &c. by which is UNDERSTOOD the conquest of the passions, the excellence of virtue, and other moral doctrines; on which account we may term the ORLANDO a MORAL poem; but can we term the FAERIE QUEEN upon the whole, a MORAL POEM? is it not equally an HISTORICAL or POLITICAL poem? for tho' it be (according to its author's words) an ALLEGORY or DARK CONCEIT, yet that which is couched or understood under this allegory is the history, and intrigues of Queen Elizabeth's courtiers; which however are introduc'd with a moral design.
under the actions of men and women. In such an adumbration, Spenser's allegory sometimes consists; as in the first book, where The Red-crosse Knight, or a TRUE CHRISTIAN, attended by Una, or TRUTH, defeats the wiles of Archimago, or the DEVIL, &c. &c. yet he has shewn himself a much more ingenious allegorist, where his IMAGINATION BODIES forth unsubstantial things, TURNS THEM TO SHAPE, and marks out the nature, powers, and effects of that which is ideal and abstracted, by visible and external symbols; as in his delineations of FEAR, ENVY, FANCY, DESPAIR, and the like. Ariosto gives us but few of these symbolical beings, in comparison of Spenser; and those which he has given us, are by no means drawn with that fullness and distinctness with which they are painted by the latter. And that Spenser painted these figures so fully and distinctly, may we not reasonably attribute it, to his being frequently habituated to the sight of these symbolical beings, distinguish'd with their proper emblems, and actually endued with speech, motion, and life?
As a more convincing argument in confirmation of what has been asserted upon this head, it may be remark'd, that Spenser denominates his most exquisite groupe of allegorical figures, the MASKE OF CUPID; thus, without recurring to conjecture, his own words indubitably demonstrate, that he had sometimes representations of this sort in his eye: he tells us, that these figures were
—a jolly company
In MANNER of a MASKE enranged orderly.
3. 12. 5.
And in his introduction to this groupe, it is manifest that he drew from another allegoric spectacle of age, called the DUMB SHEW
This consisted of dumb actors, who by their dress and action prepar'd the spectators for the matter and substance of each ensuing act respectively; as also of much hieroglyphical scenery calculated for the same purpose. See GORDOBUCKE, a tragedy, written by T. Sackville, 1561. lately reprinted by Mr. Spence: JOCASTA, a tragedie, written by G. Gascoyne and F. Kinwelmarshe, and acted at Graies Inn, 1566: and the introduction to S. 7. Act. 3. of Shakespere's HAMLET.
, which was wont to be exhibited before every act of a tragedy.
St. 3.
And forth issewd, as on the ready flore
Of some theatre, a grave personage,
That in his hand a branch of laurel bore,
With comely haveour, and countnance sage,
Yclad in costly garments, fit for tragicke stage.
IV.
Proceeding to the midst he still did stand,
As if in mind he somewhat had to say;
And to the vulgar becking with his hand,
In sign of silence, as to heare a play.
By lively actions he gan bewray
Some argument of matter passioned;
Which doen, he backe retyred soft away;
And passing by, his name discovered,
EASE, on his robe in golden letters cyphered.
He afterwards styles these figures MASKERS.
St. 6.
The whiles the MASKERS marched forth in trim array.
VII.
The first was FANCY, like a lovely boy,
Of rare aspect, &c.
From what has been said, I would not have it objected, that I have intended to arraign the natural fertility of our author's invention; and to prove, that he minutely copied after these representations; all that I have endeavoured to inculcate, is, that Spenser was not only better qualified to delineate fictions of this sort, because they were
—OCULIS
subjecta fidelibus
—
Hor. Art. Poet. 182.
Because they were the real objects of his sight, but that (as all men are influenced by what they see) he was prompted and induced to delineate them, because he saw them, especially as they were so much the delight of his age.
Instead of entering into an examination of Spenser's manner of allegorising, and of the conduct of his allegories in particular, which has been done with an equally judicious and ingenious discernment by Mr. Spense;
Polymet. B. 10. D. 4.
To Mr. Spense's examination it may be added, that our author frequently introduces an allegory, under which no meaning is couch'd; viz. 2. 9. 21. ALMA is the mind, and her CASTLE the body. The tongue is the porter of this castle, the nose the Portcullis, and the mouth the porch, about the inside of which are placed twice sixteen warders clad in white, which are the teeth; these ALMA passes by, who rise up, and do obeysance to her. St. 26. But how can the teeth be said to rise up and bow to the mind? Spenser here forgot that he was allegorising, and speaks as if he was describing (without any latent meaning) a real queen, with twice sixteen real warders, who, as such, might, with no impropriety, be said to rise and bow to their queen. Many instances of his confounding allegory with reality, occur through this whole Canto, and the two next; particularly, where he is describing the kitchen of this castle, which is the belly, he gives us a formal description of such a kitchen, as was to be seen in his time in castles, and great houses, by no means expressive of the thing intended. Again, the occult meaning of his bringing Scudamore to the house of CARE, 4. 5. 32. clashes with what he had before told us. By this allegory of Scudamore coming to CARE's house, it should be UNDERSTOOD, that
"Scudamore, from a happy, pass'd into a miserable state."
For we may reasonable suppose, that before he came to CARE's house, he was unacquainted with CARE; whereas the poet had before represented him as involv'd in extreme misery. It would be tedious, by an allegation of particular examples, to demonstrate, how frequently his allegories are mere descriptions; and that, taken in their literal sense, they have an improper, or no signification, veil'd under them. I shall, however, mention one. The BLATANT BEAST is said to break into the monasteries, to rob their chancels, cast down the desks of the monks, deface the altars, and destroy the images found in their churches. By the BLATANT BEAST is understood Scandal, and by the havock just mentioned as effected by it, is implied the suppression of religious houses and popish superstition. But how can this be properly said to have been brought about by scandal? and how could Spenser, in partilar, say this, who was, as it appears by his pastorals, a friend to the reformation, as was his heroine Queen Elizabeth?
I shall mention one capital fault committed by the poet in this point, which does not immediately fall under the rules of criticism.
"Painters, says a French writer, ought to employ their allegories in religious pictures, with much greater reserve than in profane pieces. They may, indeed, in such subjects as do not represent the mysteries and miracles of our religion, make use of an allegorical composition, the action whereof shall be expressive of some truth, that cannot be represented otherwise, either in painting or sculpture. I agree therefore to let them draw FAITH and HOPE supporting a dying person, and RELIGION in deep affliction at the feet of a deceased prelate. But I am of opinion, that artists who treat of the miracles and dogmas of our religion, are allowed no kind of allegorical composition.—The facts whereon our religion is built, and the doctrine it delivers us, are subjects in which the painter's imagination has no liberty to sport.
Abbe du Bos,
Reflexions,
&c. Tom. i. c. xxiv.
"
The conduct which this author condemns, is practised by Spenser, with this difference only; that the painters here condemned are supposed to adapt human allegory to divine mystery, whereas Spenser has adopted divine mystery to human allegory. Such a practice as this, is not only to confound sacred and profane matters, but to place the licentious sallies of imagination upon a level with the dictates of divine inspiration; to debase the truth and dignity of heavenly things, by making Christian allegory subservient to the purposes of Romantic fiction.
This fault our author has most glaringly committed throughout his whole first book, where the imaginary instruments and expedients of romance, are perpetually interwoven with the mysteries contained in the BOOK of REVELATIONS. Duessa, who is formed upon the idea of a romantic enchantress, is gorgeously array'd in gold and purple, and presented with a
By the triple crown he plainly glances at popery.
triple crown by the giant Orgoglio, and seated by him on a monstrous seven-headed dragon, (i. 7. 16.) whose tail reaches to the skies, and throws down the stars, (St. 18.) she bearing a golden cup in her hand. (1. 8. 25.) This is the SCARLET WHORE, and the RED DRAGON in the REVELATIONS.
"Behold a great red dragon, having seven heads, and ten horns, and seven crowns upon his heads; and his tail drew the third part of the stars of heaven, and did cast them to earth
C. 12. V. 3, 4.
."
Again,
"I saw a woman sit upon a scarlet-colour'd beast, full of names of blasphemy, having seven heads, and ten horns; and the woman was arrayed in purple and scarlet colour, and decked with gold, and precious stones and pearls, having a golden cup in her hands, full of abomination, and filthiness of her fornication
C. 17. V. 3, 4.
."
In Orgoglio's castle, which is describ'd as very magnificent, Prince Arthur discovers
An altar carv'd with cunning imagery,
On which true Christians blood was often spilt,
And holy martyrs often doen to die,
With cruel malice and strong tyranny;
Whose blessed sprites, from underneath the stone,
To God for vengeance cride continually.
1. 8. 36.
The inspir'd author of the above-nam'd sacred book mentions the same of what he saw in heaven.
"I saw under the altar the souls of them that were slain for the word of God, and for the testimony which they held; and they cried with a loud voice, how long, O Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge, and avenge our blood on them that dwell on earth
C. 6. V. 9, 10.
?"
A hermit points out to the RED-CROSSE knight the New Jerusalem, (1. 10. 53.) which an angel discovers to St. John, (c. 21. 10, &c.) This prospect is taken, says the poet, from a mountain more lofty then either the mount of Olives or Parnassus; these two comparisons thus impertinently linked together, strongly remind us of the absurdity we are now speaking of, the mixture of divine truth, with profane invention; and naturally lead us to reflect on the difference between the oracles frequently utter'd from the former, and the fictions of those who dreamt on the latter.
Spenser in the visionary dominions of Una's father has planted the TREE of LIFE, and KNOWLEDGE: from the first of the trees, he says, a well flow'd, whose waters contain'd a most salutary virtue, and which the dragon could not approach. Thus in the same scripture,
"He shewed me a pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God, and of the lamb. In the midst of the street of it, and on either side of the river was there the TREE of LIFE
C. 22. V. 1, 2.
".
The circumstance, in particular, of the dragon not being able to approach this water is literally adopted from Romance, as has been before observ'd
Sect. ii.
. Thus also by the steps and expedients of romance, we are led to the death of the dragon who besieged the parents of Una, by which is figur'd the destruction of the old serpent mention'd in the Apocalypse.
The extravagancies of Pagan Mythology are not improperly introduced into a poem of this sort, as they are acknowledged falsities, or at best, if expressive of any moral truth, no more than the inventions of men. But he that applies the VISIONS OF GOD in such a manner, is guilty of an impropriety, which, I fear, amounts to an impiety.
If we look back from Spenser's age thro' the state of poesy in this kingdom, we shall find that it principally consisted in the allegoric species; but that this species never received its absolute consummation till it appear'd with new lustre in the FAERIE QUEENE. There are indeed the works of some English poets now remaining, who wrote before Gower and Chaucer; but these are chiefly chroniclers in rhyme, and seem to have left us the last dregs of that kind of composition which was practic'd by the British bards: as for instance, the
That laborious Antiquary Thomas Hearne, first printed this author, at Oxford, 1724. In his preface, he tells us, p. 10. how he was first tempted to publish this rare piece.
"When I first saw a MS. of this author (which was even when I was a young under-graduate) in the Bodleian Library, being one of the first MSS. I had ever perused there, I was WONDERFULLY DELIGHTED with it."
He afterwards informs us, with no small degree of triumph, p. 84.
"As the Acts of the Apostles, that I publish'd from Arch-bishop Laud's MSS. is the first entire book that was ever printed in England, in capital Letters; so this Chronicle of Robert of Glocester is the first entire book, that was ever printed in this kingdom, (it may be in the whole world) in the manner I have done it, that is, in the black letter, with a mixture of some Saxon characters."
In the next page he proceeds to enter into a warm defence of the old black letter.
"As it is a reproach to us, that the Saxon language should be so forgot, as to have but few (comparatively speaking) that are able to read it; so 'tis a greater reproach that the black letter, which was the character so much in use in our grandfather's days, should be now, as it were, disus'd and rejected; especially, when we know the best editions of our English bibles and common prayer (to say nothing of other books) are printed in it."
I shall cite one more instance of our Antiquary's extreme thirst after ancient things, p. 19.
"But tho' I have taken so much pleasure in perusing the English bible of the year 1541, yet 'tis nothing equal to that I should take, in turning over that of the year 1539."
chronicle of Robert of Glocester, who wrote according to his own account about the year 1280. And hence we may observe, that Gower and Chaucer were reputed the first English poets, because they first introduc'd INVENTION into our poetry; they MORALIZED THEIR SONG, and strove to render virtue more amiable, by cloathing her in the veil of fiction. Chaucer, it must be acknowledged, deserves to be rank'd as one of the first English poets, on another account; his admirable artifice in painting the manners, which none before him had ever attempted even in the most imperfect degree; and it should be remember'd to his honour, that he was the first who gave the English nation, in its own language, an idea of HUMOUR. With these flourish'd the author of PIERCE PLOWMAN'S VISIONS, of which I have given an occasional sketch, above. To these succeeded Lydgate, who from his principal performances the FALL OF PRINCES, and STORY of Thebes, might more properly be styled a legendary than allegorical poet; although the first of these, is in great measure, a series of visions
The book on which it is founded, viz. Boccace de CASIBUS VIRORUM ILLUSTRIUM, is a plain historical narrative.
, and the latter contains a groupe of imaginary personages which his master Chaucer cannot surpass. He is describing the company present at the marriage of Oedipus and Jocasta.
But at this wedding plainly for to tell,
Was CERBERUS, chief porter of hell,
And HEREBUS, father to HATRED,
Was there present with his holle kindred,
His wife also with her browes blacke,
And her daughters, sorow for to make,
Hidiously chered, and ugly for to see,
MEGERA, and THESIPHONEE,
ALECTO eke; with LABOUR, and ENVIE,
DREDE, FRAWDE, and false TRECHERIE;
TREASON, POVERT, INDIGENCE, and NEDE,
And cruel DETH in his rent wede.
WRETCHEDNESS, COMPLEINT, and eke RAGE,
Fearfull, pale, DRONKENESSE, and AGE,
Cruell MARS, and many a tigre wood,
Brenning IRE, and unkind blood,
FRATERNALL HATE, &c.
The first part, Speght's Chaucer, edit. 2. fol. 357.
We have of this author two poems, viz. the
This was never printed.
TEMPLE of GLASS, and the DANCE of DEATH, or dance of MACHABREE,
One Machabree, a French poet, wrote a description, in verse, of a procession painted on the walls of St. Innocent's cloister at Paris, called the DANCE OF DEATH. This piece was translated by Lydgate, who tells us in the Prologue, St. 5.
The which Daunce at St. Innocent's
Portraied is.—
Stow mentions this DANCE OF DEATH, in his Survey of London, speaking of the cloisters which antiently belonged to St. Paul's church,
"About this cloister was artificially and richly painted the Dance of Machabray, or DANCE of DEATH, commonly called the Dance of Paul's: the like whereof was painted about St. Innocent's cloyster at Paris; the metres or poesie of this Daunce were translated out of French into English by John Lidgate, Monk of Bury, and with the picture of Death leading all estates, painted round the cloyster."
pag. 264. This picture is a woodcut, and prefixed to the poem we are speaking of, in Tottell's edition of Lydgate, 1555; and is, I suppose, an exact representation of what was painted in St. Paul's cloisters. It was afterwards engraved by Hollar, in Dugdale's Monast. vol, 3. p. 368. In all probability, this painting at St. Paul's, or that (which was the same) at St. Innocent's, gave Hans Holbein the hint for composing his famous piece, call'd the DANCE OF DEATH, now to be seen in the town-house at Basil.
It is commonly supposed, that the wood-cuts, from whence Hollar engraved his exquisite sett of prints, entitled the DANCE OF DEATH, were executed by Holbein: but I am apt to think this a mistake, which arose from confounding Holbein's picture, abovementioned, with these wood-cuts. For it will appear, that Holbein's manner of cutting in wood, is entirely different from that in which these are finished, by comparing them with Holbein's scriptural wood-cuts (in one of which his name is engraved at full length) inserted in archbishop Cranmer's catechism, an. 1548. In the cuts of this catechism there is a delicacy of handling, by no means to be found in those of the DANCE OF DEATH; which, however, have an inimitable expression, and are most probably the work of Albert Durer. I am not ignorant, that Rubens, who had copied this DANCE OF DEATH, recommended them to Sandrart, as the performance of Holbein: of which Sandrart himself informs us.
"
Sic memini,
&c.—I also well remember, that, in the year 1627, when Paul Rubens came to Utrecht to visit Handorst, being escorted, both coming from, and returning to Amsterdam, by several artists, as we were in the boat, the conversation fell upon Holbein's book of cuts, representing the DANCE OF DEATH; that Rubens gave them the highest encomiums, advising me, who was then a young man, to set the highest value upon them, informing me, at the same time, that he, in his youth, had copied them."
Joach. Sandrart,
Academ. Pict. part
2.
lib.
3.
cap.
7.
p.
241.
But if Rubens stiled these prints Holbein's, in familiar conversation, it was but calling them by the name which the world had given them, and which they generally went by. In another place Sandrart evidently confounds these wood-cuts with Holbein's picture at Basil.
"
Sed in foro, &c.
But in the fish-market there [at Basil] may be seen his [Holbein's] admirable DANCE OF PEASANTS; where also, in the same public manner, is shewn his DANCE OF DEATH, where, by a variety of figures, it is demonstrated, that Death spares neither popes, emperors, princes, &c. as may be seen in his most elegant wooden-cuts of the same work."
ibid.
pag. 238.
Now the cuts of which, at present, I am treating, are fifty-three in number, every one of which has an unity, and is entirely detach'd from the rest; so that, how could they be representations of one picture? But if it be granted, that they were engrav'd from this picture, (which, moreover, from their dissimilitude, they could not be) how does it follow they were done by Holbein?
The book from which Hollar copied these cuts, is printed at Basil, 1554, and is thus entitled,
"ICONES MORTIS,
duodecim imaginibus, praeter priores, totidemque inscriptionibus, praeter epigrammata, e gallicis a Georgio Aemylio in latinum versa, cumulatae.
"
The earliest edition I could meet with, is one in which the inscriptions, &c. are in Italian, printed at Lyons, 1549, with this title,
"
Simolachri, Historie, e Figure de la Morte,
&c."
In this there are not so many cuts, by twelve, as in the last-mention'd edition, and in the preface of this, it is said, that this book had been before printed with French and Latin inscriptions, &c. and from the French edition, I suppose, Aemylius spoken of before, translated. Spurious editions of these cuts soon afterwards appear'd, particularly one at Cologn, dated 1566, in which the forgery is pretty discernible. It may not be improper to take leave of this subject, by remarking, that Spenser alludes to some of these representations, which, in his age, were fashionable and familiar.
All Musicke sleepes, where DEATH DOTH LEAD THE DAUNCE.
NOVEMBER.
which are both professedly written in the species of which I am at present speaking. Lidgate has received numberless encomiums from our old English poets, to which his language entitled him, rather than his imagination; for though he is a very unaminated writer, yet he made very considerable improvements in the original state of our English versification, by writing in so polite a style; and it ought not to be denied, that Lydgate is the first English poet, who can be red without hesitation and difficulty. To Lydgate succeeded John Harding, who wrote a Chronicle, in verse, of all our English kings, from Brutus to the reign of king Edward IV. in which he liv'd. This piece is often commended, and quoted by some of our best antiquaries. But his merit, as an historian, naturally excludes him from that which he should arrogate as a poet: accuracy in collecting, and fidelity in relating events, may be, perhaps, justly allow'd him, but not the least effort of invention. So that, from the specimen produced by Harding at this time, there was some reason to presage, that poesy was relapsing into its primaeval barbarism; and that the rudeness of Robert of Gloucester, would be reinstated in the place of Chaucer's taste, judgement, and imagination.
However in the reign of Henry VII. ample amends were made for this interval of darkness by Stephen Hawes, a name generally unknown, and not mentioned by any English compiler of the lives of English poets, but by the accurate Wood
Fast. Oxon.
. This author I look upon to be the restorer of invention in our poetry, whose streams had flow'd in a current still more polluted and sluggish, ever since the time of Chaucer. He not only reviv'd, but highly improved the antient allegoric vein, which the rhyming chronicle of the last mentioned poet had (as I before hinted) now totally expelled. Instead of that dryness and harshness of description which are so remarkably disgusting in his predecessors, we are by this author often entertained with the fullness and luxuriancy of Spenser-Hawes refin'd Lydgate's versification, and gave it, what it wanted, sentiment and invention; added new graces to the seven-lined stanza, which Gower and Chaucer first introduced into our tongue from the Italian; and, to sum up all, was the first of our poets, who taught fertile fancy, and high-wrought fiction to wear the garb of perspicuous and harmonious numbers. The title of his poem is almost as universally unknown as his name, and is as follows.
"The history of GRAUNDE AMOURE and LA BEL PUCEL, called the PASTIME OF PLEASURE; contayning the knowledge of the seven sciences, and the course of man's lyfe in this worlde. Invented by Stephen Hawes, grome of Kyng Henry the seventh his chamber."
In a note after the contents, it is said to be written in the twenty-first year of Henry VII. which is in the year, 1505.
In the reign of king Henry VIII. learning appear'd with new lustre in this island; and this age is perhaps the first which England ever saw, that may with propriety be styled classical; as it was dignify'd with the great names of Sir Thomas More, Colet, dean of St. Paul's, Cheke, Ascham, together with many more illustrious rivals in genius and erudition Nor is it the most inconsiderable honour of this age, that Erasmus was now entertained and patronized in England; and that the Greek language, in which are reposited the treasures of true learning now began to be taught and admir'd. In this age flourish'd John Skelton, who notwithstanding the great and new lights with which he was surrounded, contributed not the least share of improvement to what his ancestors had left him; nor do I perceive that his versification is in any degree more polish'd than that of his immediate predecessor, Hawes. His best pieces are written in the allegorical manner, and are, his CROWNE of LAURELL, and BOWGE OF COURT. But the genius of this author seems little better qualify'd for picturesque, than for satyrical poetry; in the former, he wants invention, grace, and dignity; in the latter, wit, and good manners.
I should be guilty of injustice to merit in particular, and to a nation in general, which amidst a variety of disadvantages has kept a constant pace with England in the progress of literature, were I here to omit the mention of two Scottish poets, who flourish'd about this time, Sir David Lyndesay, and William Dunbar; the former of which, in his DREAM, and other pieces, and the latter in his GOLDEN TERCE, or SHIELD, and in THE THISTLE AND ROSE, has discover'd a genuine spirit of allegorising. Soon afterwards, appear'd a series of poems, entitled the MIRROR OF MAGISTRATES, form'd upon a
Every person is introduc'd speaking. Richard II. is thus introduced:
"Suppose you see the corpse of this Prince, all to be mangled with blewe wounds, lying pale and wan, all naked, upon the stones, in St. Paules Church, the people standing round about him, and making his complaynt, in manner as follows, &c."
Lydgates's FALL of PRINCES gave rise to the MIRROUR OF MAGISTRATES. In the year 1559, R. Baldwin was requested to continue Lydgate's series of the great Unfortunate; but he chose rather to confine himself entirely to our English story, and began with Robert Tresilian, 1388. and ended with Lord Hastings, 1483. In this work he was assisted by others; and particularly by John Sackville, who wrote the life of the Duke of Buckingham, together with this INDUCTION; intending at the same time to write all those remarkable lives which occurr'd from the Conquest to Tresilian, with whom Baldwin originally began, and to have printed his additional part, together with all that Baldwine, and his friends, had already done, in one volume, and to have prefix'd this INDUCTION as a general preface to the whole. But this was never executed. Afterwards another collection was published under the same title by W. Higgins, 1587.
dramatic plan, and capable of admitting some of the most affecting pathetical strokes; but these, however honour'd with the commendation of Sir Philip Sydney, are little better than a biographical detail. There is one piece indeed among the rest, which exhibits a train of imaginary personages so beautifully drawn, that in all probability they contributed to stimulate and awaken the imagination of Spenser, in forming the like descriptions. This however may be affirm'd from demonstration, that SACKVILLE'S INDUCTION approaches nearer to the FAERIE QUEENE in allegoric representation than any previous or succeeding poem.
After the FAERIE QUEENE, allegory began to decline, and by degrees gave place to a
See Donne's works, and Davies on the IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL; Lord Brooke's TREATISE OF HUMAN LEARNING, &c. &c.
species of composition in which the perplex'd subtilities of metaphysical disquisition strongly prevail'd; and which perhaps took it's rise from the taste and influence of that pacific prince, and profound scholastic James I.
Then Una fair 'gan drop her princely mien
Mr. Mason's MUSAEUS.
.
Allegory notwithstanding abruptly discover'd itself once more with somewhat of it native splendor in the
Printed in the year 1633. The principal fault of this poem is, that the author has discover'd too much of the anatomist. The
Purple Island
is the Isle of Man, whose parts and construction the poet has describ'd in an allegorical manner, viz. the bones are the foundation of it, the veins it's brooks, &c. Afterwards the intellectual faculties are represented as persons: but he principally shines where he personifies the passions or evil concupiscencies of the heart, who attack the good qualities of the heart alike personified, which under the conduct of their leader INTELLECT, rout the former. In this poem there is too somewhat of a metaphysical turn. As the whole is supposed to be sung by two shepherds, the poet has found an opportunity of adorning the beginnings and endings of his cantos with some very pleasing pastoral touches.
PURPLE ISLAND of Fletcher, with whom it almost as soon disappear'd; when a poetry succeeded in which imagination gave way to correctness; sublimity of description to delicacy of sentiment, and striking imagery to conceit and epigram. Poets began now to be more attentive to words, than things and objects; and a manner of expressing a thought prettily, was more regarded than that of conceiving one nobly. The Muses
This seems to have been the the case in France, when Voltaire read his HENRIADE to M. Malezieux: that learned man assured him, his work would not be tasted, for, says he,
"
Les Francois n' ont pas la tete epique.
"
That is, in a more extensive interpretation, the present age is too fond of MANNER'D poetry to relish FICTION and FABLE. The satires of Boileau will be preferr'd to an epic poem. May we not say the same of the taste of the present age? and that it is too much the consequence of that which began to prevail in the reign of Charles II? That we now sacrifice to reason more frequently than to fancy? On this occasion another question, put by Brumoy, might not improperly be ask'd,
"SI LA RAISON A DEAUCOUP GAGNE, NE PEUT-ON PAS DIRE QUE LE GOUT A UN PEU PERDU?"
Tom. 5. 268.
were debauch'd at court, and life and manners became their themes; insomuch that the simplicity and true Sublime of the PARADISE LOST, was by these triflers either totally disregarded, or else mistaken for insipidity, and bombast
Even Dryden, blinded by the beauties of versification only, seems not to have had a just idea of Milton's greatness. It is odd that in praising Milton, he should insist on these circumstances.
"No man has so copiously translated Homer's Graecisms, and the latin elegancies of Virgil."
By what follows it appears, that he had no notion of Milton's simple dignity.
"He runs into a FLAT THOUGHT sometimes for a hundred lines together, but tis when he is got into a TRACK OF SCRIPTURE."
He afterwards strangely misrepresents Milton's reason for writing in blank-verse,
"Neither will I justifie Milton for his writing in blank-verse; for whatever causes he alledges for the abolishing of rhime (which I have not now the leisure to examine) his own particular reason is plainly this, that RHIME WAS NOT HIS TALENT."
Whether or no rhime was Milton's talent or not, I shall not determine; but shall infer from this reason assigned by Dryden, that had Dryden compos'd the PARADISE LOST he would have written it in rhyme, and that consequently he judged the want of it an imperfection in Milton's Poem. See dedication to Dryden's Juvenal.
.
Without conducting the reader any farther thro' the succeeding stages and revolutions of the poetical republic in this kingdom, I shall beg his pardon for having proceeded thus far in an enquiry that may seem a deviation from the subject of this section, which I shall conclude with the sentiments of the Abbe Du Bos on allegorical action, which tho' applied by him to dramatic poets, are equally applicable to the action of the FAERIE QUEENE.
"It is impossible for a piece, whose subject is an allegorical action, to interest us very much. Those which writers of approved wit and talents have hazarded in this kind, have not succeeded so well as others, where they have been dispos'd to be less ingenious, and to treat historically their subject.—Our heart requires truth even in fiction itself; and when it is presented with an allegorical action, it cannot determine itself, (if I may be allowed the expression) to enter into the sentiments of those chimerical personages. It considers them as enigmas and symbols, that envelop some precepts of morality, or satyrical strokes, which properly belong to the jurisdiction of the mind. Now a theatrical piece, were it to speak only to the mind, would never be capable of engaging our attention thro' the whole performance. We may therefore apply the words of Lactantius upon this occasion.
Reflexions,
Tom. 1. C. 25.
Poetic licence has its bounds, beyond which you are not permitted to carry your fiction. A poet's art consists in making a good representation of things that might have really happened, and embellishing them with elegant images. TOTUM AUTEM, QUOD REFERAS, FINGERE, ID EST INEPTUM ESSE ET MENDACEM, POTIUS QUAM POETAM."
SECT. XI. Containing Miscellaneous Remarks.
IN reading the FAERIE QUEENE some observations necessarily occured which could not be conveniently referr'd to the general heads of the foregoing sections, which, in this, are thrown together without connection, as they occasionally and successively offered themselves.
B.i. Introduct. S.i.
Fierce warres, and faithfull loves shall MORALIZE my song.
By the word
moralize,
Spenser declares his design of writing an allegorical poem; tho' my subject, says he, consists of fierce wars and faithfull loves, yet under these shall be couch'd moral doctrine, and the precepts of virtue. Our author, in another place, styles his FAERIE QUEENE A MORALL LAY, where the shepherd addresses Colin Clout, who represents Spenser,
Whether it were some Hymne, or MORALL LAY,
Or caroll made to please thy loved laste.
And bishop Hall, in his prologue to his satires where he alludes to this poem, hints at the preceptive nature of it in these words; speaking of the swords of Elfish Knights,
—Or sheath them new
In misty MORAL types.—
And Drayton calls our author, with reference to the morality contained in the FAERIE QUEENE,
—Grave, MORALL Spenser.
To my most dearely loved friend, Henry Reinolds, of poets and poesie.
—
B. i. C. i. S. vii.
Of a grove.
Not perceable with power of any star.
It was an antient superstition that stars had a malign influence on trees. Hence Milton, in Arcades,
Under the shady roof
Of branching elm, STAR-PROOF.
And in the same poem.
And heal the harmes of thwarting thunder blue;
Or what the cross dire-looking planet smiles.
Where
dire-looking
is drawn from the astrological term,
malign aspect.
B. i. C. i. S. xv.
Speaking of the young ones of error.
Into her mouth they crept, and suddaine all were gone.
This circumstance is not the poet's invention; it is reported of adders by many naturalists.
B. i. C. i. S. xlv.
—Made a lady of that other spright
And fram'd of liquid ayre her tender parts.
Thus a false Florimel is made of snow, animated with a spright, 3. 8. 5. Mr. Pope thinks that our author drew the idea of his false Florimel from that passage in Homer where Apollo raises a phantom in the shape of Aeneas, B. 5. Iliad. and from the fictitious Turnus of Virgil; Aen. 10. 637. But he probably borrow'd it more immediately from romance, where magicians are often feigned to dress up some wicked spirit with a counterfeit likeness, in order to carry on their purposes of deception.
B. i. C. ii. S. xi.
In mighty arms he was yclad anon,
And silver shield; upon his coward brest
A bloudie cross.—
Thus Archimago disguises himself in the accoutrements of the Red-Cross Knight, who, as we were before told, was
Yclad in mightie armes, and silver shield,
i. i i.
And,
—On his brest a bloudie crosse he bore,
S. 2.
B. i. C. v. S. ii.
At last the golden oriental gate
Of greatest heaven gan to open faire,
And phoebus, fresh as bridegroome to his mate,
Came dauncing forth, shaking his dewy hair.
Spenser, as Mr. Jortin observes, plainly alluded to this text in the Psalms,
Psal. 19. 5.
"In them hath he set a tabernacle for the sun; which cometh forth as a bridegroom out of his chamber, and rejoyceth as a giant to run his course."
But our author has strangely inverted the circumstances. The psalmist alludes to the Jewish custom of the bridegroom being conducted from his chamber at midnight, with great pomp, and preceded by a great number of torches. This is the illustration of the admirable Dr. Jackson, and without it the comparison is of no force or propriety. The idea which our author would convey is, that, Phoebus came forth fresh and vigorous as a bridegroom, when he goes to his bride. The circumstance of Phoebus
"came dauncing forth"
seems to have been copied by Milton in his elegant song on May morning.
Now the bright morning-star, dayes harbinger,
Comes dancing from the east.—
But probably Milton drew it from an old poem, called, the CUCKOW, by R. Niccols, 1607, who speaking of the east, says,
From whence the daies bright king came dancing out.
especially as Milton has two thoughts in that song, which are likewise in the CUCKOW. Milton calls the morning star
—Day's harbinger.
Niccols calls the cock
—Daies harbinger.
Milton says of May,
—Who from her green lap throwes
The yellow cowslip, &c.
Niccols of May,
And from her fruitfull lap eche day she threw
The choicest flowres—
Milton, I suppose, had been reading this poem of the CUCKOW just before he wrote his song, and so imperceptibly adopted some of its thoughts and expressions. And here it may be observ'd, that in criticising upon Milton, Johnson, Spenser, and some other of our elder poets, not only a competent knowledge of all antient classical learning is requisite, but also an acquaintance with those books, which, though now forgotten and lost, were yet in repute about the time in which each author respectively wrote, and which it is most likely he had red.
B. i. C. iii. S. v.
A ramping Lion, &c.
A Lion here fawns upon Una. It is the doctrine of romance, that a Lion will do no injury to a true virgin.
B. i. C. iv. S. xiv.
Some frounce their curled haire in courtly guise,
Some pranke their ruffes—
According to the fashion of dress which prevail'd in the poet's age.
B. i. C. v. S. x.
At last the Paynim chaunct to cast his eye,
His suddaine eye, flaming with wrathfull fire,
Upon his brothers shield which hung thereby;
Therewith redoubled was his raging ire,
And said, ah wretched sonne of wofull sire,
Dost thou sit wayling by blacke Stygian lake,
While here thy shield is hang'd for victors hire?
In this beautiful circumstance, he, probably, received a distant hint from Virgil.
—
Infelix humero cum apparuit ingens
Baltheus, & notis fulserunt cingula bullis
Pallantis,
&c.
Ille oculis postquam saevi monumenta doloris
Exuviasque hausit, furiis accensus, & ira
Terribilis, Tune hinc,
&c.
Aen. 12. v. 940.
B. i. C. vii. S. i.
—What earthly wit so WARE.
"So prudent."
This word puts me in mind of a correction, which Mr. Upton has made in Chaucer.
Full fetise was her cloke, as I was WARE.
Prol. 157.
Mr. Upton cannot make sense of this; and therefore proposes to read,
Full fetise was her cloke as was
iware.
That is,
"As handsom as was worn by any woman."
But the expression,
I was ware,
occurs again in Chaucer.
Betwixt an Hulfere, and a wode bende
As
I was ware,
I sawe where laie a man.
Black Kn. 129.
And, I presume, signifies, in both placet, as,
I was
AWARE, as,
I perceiv'd
; and we meet with,
was I ware,
after this manner,
Tho
was I ware
of pleasance anon right.
Speght's edit. fol. 234.
very frequently; which is the same as, I WAS WARE.
B. i. C. vii. S. xxiv.
The which these reliques sad present unto mine eye.
That is, her knight's armor; which the Dwarf brings to her. St. 19.
B. i. C. ix. S. xix.
—A box of diamond sure
EMBOWD with gold, and gorgeous ornament.
EMBOW'D, i. e.
"arched,
arcuatus,
bent like a BOW."
A box having a vaulted cover of gold. Spenser, in the Visions of the world's vanity, expresses the curve of the Moon by this word.
EMBOWED like the moon.
Harrington, in his Orlando Furioso, makes use of EMBOWD, to denote the concave appearance of the clouds in the sky.
Ev'n as we see the sunne obscurd sometime
By sudden rising of a mistie cloud,
Engendred by the vapor-breeding slime,
And in the middle region there EMBOWD.
32. 93.
Gascoigne in Jocasta, a tragedy, applies EMBOWD to a roof.
The gilted roofes EMBOWD with curious worke.
Act. 1. S. 2.
That is, vaulted with curious work: and Milton,
—The high, EMBOWED roof
With antique pillars massy-proof,
And storied windows richly dight,
Casting a dim religious light,
There let the pealing organ blow
To the full-voiced quire below,
IL. PENS.
Impressions made in earliest youth, are ever afterwards most strongly felt; and I am inclin'd to think, that Milton was first affected with, and often indulg'd the pensive pleasure, which the awful solemnity of a Gothic church conveys to the mind, and which is here so feelingly describ'd, while he was a schoolboy at St. Paul's. The church was then in its original Gothic state, and one of the noblest patterns of that kind of architecture.
B. i. C. x. S. lxiv.
Sith to thee is unknowne the cradle of thy brood.
Thus again,
Even from the cradle of his infancy.
5. 1. 5.
Thus also G. Gascoigne to Lady Bridges.
Lo thus was Bridges hurt
In cradel of her kynd.
And in the Hymne in honour of Love,
The wondrous cradle of thine infancy.
B. i. C. xi. S. liv.
Of the Dragon's death.
So downe he fell, and forth his life did breath
That vanisht into smoake, and clowdes swift.
We meet with the same circumstance in Hawes's Pastime of Pleasure. But it is usual in Romance.
B. i. C. xii. S. xxxviii.
To drive away the dull melancholy.
The same verse occurrs, and upon the same occasion.
1. 5. 3.
B. ii. C. i. S. vi.
And knighthood tooke of good Sir HUON's hand.
There was an old romance, entitled, Sir HUON OF BOURDEAUX; mention'd among other old histories of that kind, in the letter concerning Q. Elizabeth's entertainment at Kenelworth, above quoted.
Sect. ii.
B. ii. C. i. S. liii.
The woods the nymphes, the bowres my midwives were,
Hard help at need.—
Heroines in Romance are often deliver'd in solitary forrests, without assistance; and the child, thus born, generally proves a knight of most extraordinary puissance.
B. ii. C. ii. S. iv.
To shewe how sore BLOUD-GUILTINESSE he hat'th.
We meet with BLOUD-GUILTINESSE again below.
S. 30.
—With BLOUD-GUILTINSESE to heap offence.
Again,
Or that BLOUD-GUILTINESSE or guile them blot.
2. 7. 19.
This is a word which would have been rank'd among Spenser's obsolete terms, had it not been accidently preserv'd to us, in the translation of the Psalms us'd in our Liturgy,
"Deliver me from BLOUD-GUILTINESSE, O God."
Psal. 51. v. 14.
The same may be said of BLOUD-THIRSTIE,
And high advancing his BLOUD-THIRSTIE BLADE.
B. i. C. viii. S. xvi.
—As doth a hidden moth
The inner garment fret, not th' utter touch.
He seems to have had his eye on that verse in the Psalms,
"Like as it were a moth fretting a garment."
Psal. 39. v. 12.
B. ii. C. iii. S. xxix.
Her dainty paps which like young fruit in May
Now little gan to swell, and being tide,
Through their thin weed their places only signifide.
Dryden, who had a particular fondness for our author, has copied this passage, in Cymon and Iphigenia.
Her bosom to the view was only bare;
Where two beginning paps were scarcely spy'd,
For yet their places were but signify'd.
B. ii. C. iii. S. xxxiii.
O Goddesse (for such I thee take to bee)
For neither doth thy face terrestrial shew,
Nor voice sound mortall, &c.—
Drawn from Aeneas's address to his mother, and in the same manner again,
Angell, or Goddesse, do I call thee right.
3. 5. 35.
Milton has finely applied this manner of address (originally drawn from Ulysses's address to Nausicaa, Odyss. 6.) in Comus.
—Hail foreign wonder!
Whom certain these rough shades did never breed,
Unless the goddess that in rural shrine
Dwellst here with Pan and Sylvan; by blest song
Forbidding every bleak unkindly fog
To touch the prosperous growth of this tall wood.
This is highly agreeable to the character of the flattering and deceitful Comus; and the supposition that she was the goddess or genius of the wood, resulting from the situation of the persons, is new as well as proper. There is another passage in Comus, whose subject is not much unlike that of the verses just produc'd, which, probably, Milton copied from Euripides.
Their port was more than human, as they stood;
I took it for a faery vision
Of some gay creatures of the element,
That in the colors of the rain-bow live,
And play i' th' plighted clouds: I was awe-strook,
And, as I past, I worship'd.—
Comus thus describes to the Lady her brothers. And thus a shepherd, in Iphigenia in Tauris, describes Pylades and Orestes to Iphigenia.
,
,
,
, &c.
, &c.
.
V. 264.
Hic geminos vidit juvenes quidam
Pastor nostrum, & recessit retro
Summis [pedum] relegens vestigium,
Et dixit, non videtis? Daemones quidam
Sedent isti [hic]: quidam verò de nobis religiosior
Sustulit manus, & adoravit, intuens,
O marinae Leucotheae fili, &c.
O Domine Palaemon, &c.
Sive in littore vos sedetis Gemini.
I shall take this opportunity of pointing out one or two more of Milton's imitations; by which it will farther appear, how well he knew to make a borrow'd thought or description his own, by the propriety of the application. Michael thus speaks of what would happen to Paradise in the universal Deluge.
—then shall this mount
Of Paradise, by might of waves be mov'd
Out of his place, push'd by the horned flood,
With all his verdure spoil'd, and trees adrift,
Down the great river to the opening gulf;
And there take root, an iland salt and bare,
The haunt of seals, and orcs, and seaw-mews clang.
Par. Lost, 11. 829.
Delos (in Homer's hymn to Apollo) tells Latona, that he is unwilling that Apollo should be born in his island,
,
,
.
,
.
.
Ne cùm primum videat, lumen solis
Insulam dedecoret, (quoniam asperum solum sum)
Pedibus conculcans, & impellet in maris Pelagus.
Ubi me quidem magna unda, magnâ vi abunde semper
Inundabit; ille autem ad aliam terram veniet, ubi placuerit ipsi,
Constructurus templum, lucosque arboribus densos.
Polypodes autem in me thalamos, Phocaeque nigrae
Domicilia facient, neglecta multitudine hominum.
In the same book, some of the circumstances in Michael's account of the Flood, seem to be drawn from an Ode of Casimir, entitled,
Noe Vaticinium.
—Sea cover'd sea,
Sea without shore; and in their palaces,
Where Luxury late reign'd, sea-monsters whelp'd
And stabled.—
Ibid. 749.
Noah is introduc'd by Casimir, thus describing the effects of the Flood.
Aut ubi turrigerae potentum
Arces Gigantum? queis modo liberi
Festo choreas agmine plausimus,
Delphines insultant plateis,
Et vacuas spaciosa cete
Ludunt per aulas, ac thalamus pigrae
Pressere Phocae.
—
Aen. 12. 925.
B. ii. C. v. S. vi.
—The upper marge
Of his seven-folded shield.—
This seems to be Virgil's,
—
Clypei extremos septemplicis orbes.
Lyricor. B. 4. Od. 27.
B. ii. C. v. S. xxxiii.
The SUGRED liquor thro' his melting lips.
SUGRED, to express excessive sweetness, was a frequent epithet with the poets of this age, and with those of the ages before it. It answer'd to the
Mellitus
of the Romans.
B. ii. C. vi. S. viii.
But to weake
wench
did yeeld his martial might.
Some late editors of Shakespere have endeavour'd to prove, that
wench
did not antiently carry with it the idea of meanness or infamy. But in this place it plainly signifies a loose woman; and in the following passages of Chaucer. January having suspected his wife May's conjugal fidelity, May answers,
I am a
gentlewoman,
and no WENCH.
March. Tale. 1719.
And in the House of Fame,
wench
is coupled with groom,
Lord, and Ladie,
grome,
and WENCH.
V. 206.
B. ii. C. vi. S. viii.
—One sweet drop of sensuall delight.
Lucretius has given us this metaphor.
—
Dulcedinis in cor
Stillavit
Gutta.—
4. 1054.
B. ii. C. vi. S. xxviii.
Thou RECREANT knight.—
RECREANT knight, is a term of romance. Thus in MORTE ARTHUR.
"Than said the knight to the king, thou art in my daunger whether me lyst to save thee or to sley thee; and but thou yeeld thee as overcome and RECREANT, thou shalt dye. As for death said king Arthur, welcome be it when it cometh; but as to yeeld me to thee as RECREANT, &c."
1. 21.
B. ii. C. vii. S. iii.
In smith's fire-spetting forge.—
SPETT seems anciently to have more simply signify'd DISPERSE, without the low idea which we at present affix to it. Thus Milton in Comus,
—When the dragon woom
Of stygian darkness SPETTS her thickest gloom.
And Drayton, in the barons wars, of an exhalation
—SPETTETH his lightening forth,
B. 2. St. 35.
B. ii. C. viii. S. v.
A description of an angel.
Beside his head there sate a faire young man
Of wondrous beauty, and of freshest yeares,
Whose tender bud to blossom new began,
And flourish faire above his equall peares;
His snowy front, curled with golden haires,
Like Phoebus face adorn'd with sunny rayes,
Divinely shone; and two sharp-winged sheares
Decked with diverse plumes like painted jayes,
Were fixed at his backe, to cut his ayerie wayes.
Milton
Par. Lost, 3. 636.
in his description of Satan under the form of a stripling-cherub, has highly improv'd upon Spenser's angel, and Tasso's Gabriel
Ibid. 5. 276,
, both which he seems to have had in his eye. And in his Raphael.
C. 1. S. 13.
Many authors, before Milton, have describ'd angels, in which they have insisted only upon the graces of youth and beauty. But it must be granted, that our great countryman was the first that ever attempted to give, or who, at the same time, gave with becoming majesty, the idea of an ARMED ANGEL. He, probably, receiv'd some hints, in this respect, from painting, swhich he had seen in Italy; particularly from one by Raphael, where Michael, clad in celestial panoply, triumphs over Satan chain'd.
B. ii. C. x. S. vii.
Speaking of Albion,
But farre in land a salvage nation dwelt
Of hideous giants.—
This puts me in mind of Geoffry of Monmouth's account of the original state of Albion.
"
Erat tunc nomen insulae Albion, quae a nemine nisi a
PAUCIS GIGANTIBUS
inhabitabatur.
"
A
few
giants in that historian's opinion were but of little consideration.
B. ii. C. xi. S. xviii.
—Let fly
Their fluttring arrows thick as flakes of snow.
So Virgil,
—
Fundunt simul undique tela
Crebra, nivis ritu.
Aen. 11. v. 610.
Thus again,
—Arrowes haild so thick.—
5. 4. 38.
And in the same stanza,
—A sharpe showre of arrowes—
And above,
For on his shield as thick as stormy show'r
Their stroakes did raine.—
2. 8. 35.
Which two last instances are more like Virgil's
ferreus imber.
B. ii. C. xi. S. xxxv.
—Thereby there lay
An huge great stone which stood upon one end,
And had not had been removed many a day.
* * * * * * * * *
xxxvi.
The same he snatcht, and with exceeding sway
Threw at his foe.—
Among other instances of the extraordinary strength of heroes in lifting a huge stone, describ'd by the antient poets, I think the following in Apollonius has never been alledged. Jason crushes the growing warriors with a vast stone.
,
.
.—
. B. 3. 1364.
Arripit e campo magnum & rotundum saxum,
Mirum Martis Gradivi discum; non ipsum viri
Juvenes quatuor ne paulum quidem terra elevassent,
Id sumptum in manibus valde procul in medios abjecit
Insiliens.
—
But Jason was assisted in this miraculous effort by the enchantments of Medea.
B. ii. C. xii. S. lx.
And in the midst of all a fountaine stood.
Hardly any thing is describ'd with greater pomp and magnificence than artificial fountains in Romance. See a glorious one in Ariosto. 42. 91.
B. ii. C. xii. S. lxxxi.
But one above the rest in speciall
That had an hog been late, hight Grill by name,
Repined greatly, and did him miscall,
That had from human shape him brought to naturall.
Mr. Jortin
Remarks, pag. 77.
observes, that this is taken from a Dialogue in Plutarch, inscrib'd,
;
where Gryllus, one of the companions of Ulysses, transform'd into a hog by Circe, holds a discourse with Ulysses, and refuses to be restor'd to his human shape.
Not many years before the FAERIE QUEENE was written, viz. 1548, Gelli published his Circe, which is declar'd in the Preface to be founded upon the Dialogue of Plutarch, mention'd by Mr. Jortin. Circe soon became a very popular book, and was translated into English (as likewise into other languages) in the Year 1557, by one Henry Iden; so that, probably, Spenser had red it; and might be induc'd to consult that Dialogue, from its mention in the preface.
B. iii. C. i. S. xiv.
Save Beares, Lyons, and Buls which romed them around.
This verse would be improv'd in its harmony, by reading,
Save Lyons, Beares, and Buls, &c.
As would the following also,
Yet was admired much of fooles,
women,
and boyes.
5. 2. 30.
If we were to read,
Yet was admired much of
women,
fooles, and boyes.
But these corrections are made by the critic, upon a supposition that his author must infallibly have written what was best. It may be laid down as a general rule, that an Alexandrine cannot be harmonious without a full pause after the third foot. Thus,
That spear enchanted
was
—which laid thee on the green.
Consequently the sixth syllable must necessarily be a monosyllable, or the last syllable of a word; for we cannot make a full pause in the middle of a word, upon which account such Alexandrines as these are necessarily inharmonious.
So in his angry
cour—age
fairly pacify'd.
That bore a Lyon
pass—ant
in a golden field.
But that he must do
batt—el
with the sea-nymph's son.
And to her watry
cham—ber
swiftly carry him.
And because a full pause must be made on the last syllable of the third foot, the third foot should never consist of a Trochee, for then we should be oblig'd to lay the greater stress upon the short syllable; as if the third foot was to be Beāuty̆, Coūrăge, grēedy̆, flōwry̆, or the like.
And it may be further remark'd, that an Iambus, for the third foot, will make the verse more musical, as the pause will be more strong after a short syllable. Thus,
Fit to adorn
thĕ dēad,
—and deck the dreary tomb.
That art thus
foully̆ flēd
—from famous enemy.
For the same reason an Iambic foot at the end of any English verse has a good effect.
An Alexandrine entirely consisting of Iambic feet, answers precisely to a pure Iambic verse of the antients. Thus,
Thĕ gēntlĕ Evē ăwākes rĕfrēshfŭll āirs ăroūnd.
Equēs sŏnāntĕ vērbĕrābĭt ūngŭlā.
In reading this kind of measure, the antients did not, probably, huddle the syllables together, as we do: but it would be difficult to point out the places at which they made their pauses. Why should the following pure Iambic of Sophocles,
Elect. v. 518.
Be red like mere prose, without any certain pause, or division? and this verse of Anacreon,
Od. 1. v. 1.
Be red with these rests,
May we not suppose, that the Iambic of Sophocles was red with some such divisions as these,
?
Which are not very unlike those which we make use of in reading the above English Alexandrine (or Iambic) verse,
The gen-tle Eve-awakes-refresh-full airs-around.
It may be observ'd, that a Latin Hexameter is essentially distinguish'd from a prose sentence, only by being ended with a Dactyle preceding a Spondee; upon which account our manner of reading the endings of such Hexameters as these,
procumbit Humi Bos, Oceano Nox, amica Luto Sus, &c.
is probably wrong. According to our present manner of reading them, the whole verse doth not differ in sound from an
Oratio prosaica
; contrary therefore to our present practice, we should take care to express the Dactyle and Spondee thus—
Ocean—o Nox
; and so of the rest. And that this was the practice of the antients, may be farther infer'd from these words of Quintilian, on reading verses,
"SIT LECTIO VIRILIS, ET CUM SEVERITATE QUADAM GRAVIS; ET NON QUIDEM PROSAE SIMILIS QUIA CARMEN EST."
Instit. Orat. l. 1. c. 8.
B. iii. C. i. S. xvi.
All as a blazing starre doth farre outcast
His hairie beames, and flaming lockes disspred.
Hairie
seems to be an odd epithet for
Beames.
I once thought that Spenser might have wrote,
airie beames,
i. e.
beams streaming through the air.
But
hairie
is undoubtedly the genuine reading, as the adjective and substantive,
hairie
and
beames,
are alternately inverted and oppos'd to
flaming
and
locks.
B. iii. C. i. S. lvi.
And every knight, and every gentle squire
Gan chuse his dame with
bascio mani
gay.
With
bascio mani,
Ital. with kissing her hands: a phrase, perhaps, common in our author's age, when Italian manners were universally affected.
B. iii. C. i. S. lxii.
—Out of her FILED bed.
"Out of her DEFILED bed."
B. iii. C. ii. S. xxv.
He bore a crowned little Ermilin,
That deckt the azure field with her faire POULDRED skin.
That is, with her skin spotted, or
variegated
; in its primary sense,
besprinkled:
this is the genuine spelling of
powder'd,
according to the etymology to which Skinner conjectures it to belong, viz.
a pulvere, conspergo
pulvere.
We find the substantive POWDER generally spelt thus in old authors.
Thus B. Johnson,
And of the POULDER-plot they will talk yet.
Epig. 92.
Spenser again uses the verb in its sense,
besprinkle,
—A crowne
POWDRED with pearle and stone.—
5. 10. 31.
Thus Sir Ph. Sydney, in Astrophell and Stella,
St. 6.
Some one his song in Jove, and Jove's strange tales attires,
Border'd with buls and swans, POWDRED with golden raine.
Thus Harrington,
—A horse of dainty hew
* * * * * *
His collour py'd, POWDRED with many a spot.
19. 53.
Again, where it may be interpreted,
embroider,
She dreamt the bases of her loved knight,
Which she embrodred blacke the other day,
With spots of red were POWDRED all in sight.
43. 148.
Thus also Chaucer,
Full gay was all the ground, and queint,
And POWDRED as men had it peint.
Rom. R. v. 115.
The grounde was grene, YPOUDRED with daisye.
Cuckow and Night. v. 63.
And, in the following instance, it seems to be literally used for
embroidering.
Aftir a sorte the collir and the vente
Lyke as armine is made in purfilinge,
With grete perlis ful fine and orient,
They were couchid all aftir one worching,
With diamondes instede of POUDIRING.
Ass. L. 526.
I had not collected all these instances, but with a design of placing an expression of Milton in a proper light.
—The Galaxy, that milky way,
Which nightly as a circling zone thou seest
POWDRED with stars.
Par. Lost, 7. 579.
That is,
"The milky way, which every night appears to you, like a circling zone
besprinkled
or
embroider'd
with stars."
To the majority of readers, I dare say,
powdred with stars
has ever appear'd a very mean, or rather ridiculous, metaphor. It occurrs in Sackville's Induction to the MIRROR OF MAGISTRATES.
Then looking upwards to the heaven's leames,
With night's bright STARRES thick POWDRED every where.
That is,
thick-besprinkled,
or
variegated.
Sandys, in his notes to the CHRISTUS PATIENS of Grotius, speaking of the Veil in Solomon's Temple,
"says, that it was POWDRED with Cherubims."
Act. 4. v. 296.
B. iii. C. ii. S. xlviii.
For the faire damsell from the holy HERSE
Her love-sicke heart to other thoughts did steale.
From the
holy herse,
is, I suppose, the same as if he had said, from the
holy
HERSAL, which is us'd afterwards.
—sad HERSAL of his heavy strife.
3. 11. 18.
So that
holy herse
is here, the rehearsal of the prayers in the church-service, at which Britomart is now describ'd as present. HERSE occurs, in the Pastoral of November, as the burden of Colin's song, "O heavie HERSE," and, "O happie HERSE" where E. K. interprets HERSE, The solemne Obsequie in Funerals.
B. iii. C. iii. S. xxvi.
But sooth he is the sonne of Gorlois.
This is the Gorlois of whom Milton speaks,
Epitaph. Damonis, 166.
Tum gravidam Arturo, fatali fraude, Iogernen,
Mendaces vultus, assumptaque Gorlois arma,
Merlini dolus.
Geoffrey of Monmouth informs us, that Uther Pendragon fell in love with Igerne, or Iogerne, the wife of Gorlois prince of Cornwall. In the absence of Gorlois, Merlin, by his magic, transform'd Uther into the likeness of Gorlois, and one Ulfin into the likeness of Jordan, a familiar friend of Gorlois, himself assuming the figure of one Bricel; by means of which artifice, Uther enjoy'd Iogerne, and begot king Arthur.
B. 8. c. 19.
Spenser, in his Epistle to Sir W. Raleigh, calls Iogerne, or Igerne, the Lady IGRAYNE.
B. iii. C. iii. S. liii.
Bardes tell of many women valorous
Which have full many feates adventurous
Perform'd in paragone of proudest men:
The bold Bonduca, whose victorious
Exploits made Rome to quake, stout Guendolen,
Renowned Martia, and redoubted Emmelen.
Glauce, with the greatest propriety, is here made to allude to the bards, whose
Leland de Script. Brit. cap. 2.
business it was to sing to the harp the warlike atchievements of their countrymen, and who flourished in high perfection, at the time in which our author has suppos'd the events of the FAERIE QUEENE to have fallen out. They are introduc'd, with no less consistency, playing upon their harps in the hall of the House of PRIDE.
—Many bards that to the trembling chord
Can tune their timely voices cunningly.
1. 5. 3.
The bards were usually employ'd upon such public occasions,
in bower or hall,
as Milton terms it.
B. iii. C. v. S. xxxii.
There whether it divine Tobacco were,
Or Panacea, or Polygony.
Tobacco was, at this time, but newly discover'd to the English, and not an ordinary herb, as it is at present. Probably Tobacco is here mention'd, with so much honour, by way of paying a compliment to Sir Walter Raleigh, our author's friend and patron, who first introduc'd and us'd Tobacco in England.
B. iii. C. vii. S. vi.
There in a gloomy hollowe glen she found
A little cottage built of stickes and reedes,
In homely wise, and wall'd with sods around,
In which a witch did dwell, in loathely weedes,
And wilfull want, all carelesse of her needes.
Witches were thought really to exist in the age of Queen Elizabeth, and our author had, probably, been struck with seeing such a cottage as this, in which a witch was suppos'd to live. Those who have perus'd Mr. Blackwall's Enquiry into the life and writings of Homer, will be best qualified to judge how much better enabled that poet is to describe, who copies from living objects, than he who describes, in a later age, from tradition.
B. iii. C. vii. S. ix.
Wiping the tears from her SUFFUSED eyes.
So Virgil,
Tristior, atque oculos lacrymis
SUFFUSA
nitentes.
Aen. 1. v. 228.
B. iii. C. vii. S. lii.
Her well beseemes that QUEST.—
QUEST is a term properly belonging to Romance, importing the expedition in which the knight is engag'd, and which he is oblig'd to perform. It is a very common word with Spenser.
B. iii. C. viii. S. xxxix.
Sometimes he boasted, that a God he hight
But she a mortal creature loved best;
Then he would make himself a mortal wight,
But then she said she lov'd none but a Faerie knight.
xl.
Then like a Faerie knight himself he drest.
The use which the poet here makes of Proteus's power of changing his shape, is artful enough.
B. iii. C. x. S. viii.
—Ballads,
As the name of G. GASCOINE has been frequently mention'd in the course of this work, it may not be, perhaps, improper to give the reader some further knowledge of him. His works were printed An. 1576, with this title,
"A hundreth sundrie flowres, bounde up in one small poesie; gather'd, partly by translation, in the fyne and outlandish gardens of Euripides, Ovid, Petrarke, Ariosto, and others; and partely by invention, out of our own fruitefull orchardes in Englande; yielding sundrie sweet savours of tragicall, comicall, and morall discourses, both pleasaunt and profitable to the well-smellyng noses of learned readers."
This was follow'd by another edition, An. 1587. This author was well esteem'd by his cotemporary writers, as appears by their testimonies of him; and it must be confess'd, that he has much exceeded all the poets of his age, in smoothness and harmony of versification. Would it not extend this note too far, as a specimen of his talent for love-verses, I would produce his Ode,
"In praise of Lady Bridges, now Ladie Sandes, on a scar on her forehead,"
in which the reader would be surpriz'd to discover a delicacy, rarely, if ever, to be found in that early state of our poetry.
But the reader will, probably, be still more entertain'd with some passages in JOCASTA, a Tragedie, (before mention'd) written ten years before the Poem just quoted, and acted at Gray's Inn, 1566, in which he will not only perceive the strength and harmony, but likewise the poetical spirit of Spenser, who did not publish any one of his pieces till fourteen years afterwards. The story is taken, and in some measure translated, from the PHOENISSAE of Euripides; it is written in blank verse, with chorusses (none of which are copied from those in the PHOENISSAE); and before each Act, according to the practice of that age, the Dumb Shew is introduc'd. In Act 2. 2. combat is likely to ensue, between Eteocles and Polynices; on which occasion the Chorus, consisting of four Theban dames, sing an Ode, which thus begins.
O fierce and furious God! whose harmefull harte
Rejoyceth most to shed the giltlesse blood;
Whose headie will doth all the world subvert,
And doth envy the pleasaunt merry moode
Of our estate, that erst in quiet stoode;
Why dost thou thus our harmelesse towne annoy
Which mightie Bacchus governed in joye?
Father of warre and death! that dost remove
With wrathfull wrecke from wofull mothers breast
The trustie pledges of her tender love;
So graunt the Gods, that for our finall rest,
Dame Venus' pleasaunt lookes may charm thee best,
Whereby when thou shall all amazed stand,
The sword may fall out of thy trembling hand:
And thou maist prove some other way full well
The bloudie prowesse of thy mightie speare,
Wherewith thou raisest from the depths of hell,
The wrathfull sprites of all the furies there,
Who, when they wake, doe wander everie where,
And never rest to raunge about the coastes,
T' enrich their pit with spoile of damned ghostes.
And when thou hast our fields forsaken thus,
Let cruell DISCORDE beare thee companie,
Engirt with snakes, and serpents venemous,
Ev'n she, that can with red vermilion dye
The gladsome greene, that florish'd pleasantly,
And make the greedie ground a drinking cup
To sup the bloud of murder'd bodies up.
Yet thou return, O joye, &c. &c.
There are other passages equally striking, which it would be no less tedious than impertinent to transcribe.
VIRELAYES, and verses vaine.
Virelayes are often mention'd by Chaucer, and our old poets. G. Gascoigne, in his Defence of rhyme, gives this account of Virelayes.
"There is an old kinde of rhyme called VERLAYES, deriv'd, as I have redde, of the worde
verde
which betokeneth
greene,
and
laye
which betokeneth a
song,
as if you would say GREENE SONGES. But I must tell you by the way, that I never redde any verse which I saw by authoritie called VERLAY, but one; and that was a long discourse in verses of tenne sillabeles, whereof the four first did rhyme across; and the fyfth did answere to the fyrst and thyrde, breaking off there, and so going on to another termination. Of this I could shew example of imitation, in myne owne verses written to the right honourable the Lorde Grey of Wilton."
E. G.
A strange conceit, a vaine of new delight
Twixt weale and woe, 'twixt weale and bitter griefe,
Hath pricked foorth my hastie pen to write
This worthlesse verse, in hazard of reproofe,
And to mine alder-lievest Lord I must indice.
B. iii. C. x. S. xii.
As Hellene when she sawe aloft appeare
The Trojane flames, and reach to heavens hight,
Did clap her hands, and joyed at that dolefull sight.
Virgil tells us, that Helen, while Troy was burning, hid herself for fear.
Illa sibi infestos eversa ob Pergama Teucros,
Et paenas Danaum, & deserti conjugis iras
Permetuens, Trojae & patriae communis erynnis,
Abdiderat sese, atque aris invisa sedebat.
Aen. 2. 571.
Spenser's lines put me in mind of a thought in one of Daniel's sonnets, which seems to be copied by Waller.
Who whilst I burne she sings at my soules wracke
Looking aloft from turret of her pride;
There my soules tyrant joyes her in the sacke
Of her owne seat.—
44.
Daniel here alludes to a circumstance related of Nero; and Waller seems to have imitated Daniel's application of it.
Thus Nero with his harp in hand survey'd
His burning Rome, and as it burnt he play'd.
On my L. Isabella playing on the lute.
B. iii. C. x. S. xxxv.
For having filcht her bells, her up he cast
To the wide world, and let her fly alone.
Here is a metaphor taken from hawking; a diversion highly fashionable in our author's age, to which he frequently alludes, and from whence he has drawn a very great number of comparisons. The hawk's bells are mention'd afterwards,
Like as an hawke, that feeling herself freed
From bells and jesses, which did let her flight.
6. 4. 19.
B. iii. C. xii. S. xli.
He bound that piteous lady prisoner now releast.
Mr. Jortin observes, that Spenser (to the best of his knowledge) never uses verses of six feet, except in the last line of the stanza, and in this place. But he had forgot these instances,
But whilst his stony heart was toucht with tender truth.
4. 12. 13.
Again,
Sad death revived with her sweet inspection.
4. 12. 34.
We meet with an Alexandrine in the Samson Agonistes, which I believe was not left so by the author.
But I God's counsel have not kept, his holy secret
Presumptuously have publish'd, &c.
V. 497.
The preceding line is,
The mark of fool set on his front?
Perhaps we should read,
The mark of fool set on his front? but I
God's counsel have not kept, his holy secret
Presumptuously have publish'd, &c.
B. iv. C. ii. S. ii.
Such musick is wise words with time CONCENTED.
CONCENTED, from the substantive
concent,
which we meet in our author.
All which together sung full chearfully
A lay of loves delight with sweet CONCENT.
3. 12. 5.
And in Virgil's Gnat,
But the small birds in their wide boughs embowring
Chaunted their sundry tunes with sweet CONCENT.
Probably in the Epithalamion, where Spenser is speaking of many birds singing together,
So goodly all agree with sweet
consent,
Instead of
consent,
we should read CONCENT. Milton uses the word in his poem, at a solemn music,
That undisturbed song of pure CONCENT
Aye sung before the sapphire-colourd throne.
As it has been restor'd instead of
content,
upon the best authority, by Dr. Newton, in his late very useful edition of Milton's poetical works.
B. iv. C. iii. S. i.
Speaking of mankind,
That every howre they knocke at deathes gate.
This recalls to my memory a beautiful image of Sackvill, in his INDUCTION to THE MIRROR OF MAGISTRATES concerning the figure of OLD AGE.
His witherd fist still knocking at death's dore.
which perhaps is not more expressive than Chaucer's representation of ELDE, or old age. After telling us that Distress, Sickness, &c. always abide in her court, and are her senators, he adds,
The day and night her to torment
With cruell death they her present;
And tellen her erlich and late,
That deth stondeth armed at her gate.
Death's door
was a common phrase, and occurs in our translation of the psalms.
"They were even hard at death's door."
Ps. 108. v. 18.
B. iv. C. iii. S. iii.
These warlike champions all in armour-SHINE.
SHINE is likewise us'd as a substantive in Harrington's Ariosto,
—The SHINE of armour bright.
37. 15.
And in our translation of the psalms,
"His lightenings gave SHINE unto the world."
Ps. 97. v. 4.
B. iv. C. iv. S. xii.
Against the turneiment which is not long.
The same mode of speaking occurrs in the verse which is the burden of the song in the Prothalamion.
Against the bridale day which is not long.
i. e.
"Approaching, near at hand."
B. iv. C. viii. S. xxix.
More hard for hungry steed t' abstaine from pleasant
lare.
LARE is a Saxon word for bed. It is us'd by Milton.
—Out of the ground uprose
As from his LAIR the wild beast where he wons
In forest wild, in thicket, &c.
Par. Lost, 7. 457.
Yet it here seems to be us'd for pasture or grass; in which however a bed may be made. So again below,
S. 51.
This giant's sonne that lies there on the
laire
An headlesse heap.—
i. e. (I suppose) lies there on the grass,
B. iv. C. ix. Arg.
The SQUIRE OF LOWE DEGREE releast
Paeana takes to wife.
The squire of lo degree,
is the title of an old romance, mention'd together with Sir Huon of Bordeaux; which, as we remark'd before, is spoken of among a catalogue of antient books, in the letter concerning Q. Elizabeth's entertainment at Kenelworth.
B. vi. C. ix. S. viii.
—Him compeld
To open unto him the prison dore,
And forth to bring those thrals that there he held;
Thence forth to him were brought about a score,
Of knights and squires, &c.
All which he did from bitter bondage free.
The releasing of the prisoners is a ceremony constantly practised in romance, after the knight has kill'd the giant, and taken possession of his castle.
B. iv. C. x. Arg.
Scudamore doth his conquest tell
Of vertuous Amoret.
Scudamore is a name deriv'd from
Scudo, a shield,
and
Amore, Love,
Ital. because in this Canto, S. 10. he wins the SHIELD OF LOVE.
B. iv. C. x. S. xxxv.
Else would the waters overflow the lands
And fire devoure the ayre, and hell them quight.
I suppose he means
"Else the waters would overflow the lands, and fire devoure the air, and hell would entirely devoure both waters and lands."
But this is a most confused construction.
B. iv. C. x. S. xxi.
—All that nature, by her mother-wit
Could frame, &c.
Dryden has adopted the expression MOTHER-WIT from our author, in his Ode on Caecilia's day,
With nature's MOTHER-WIT, and arts unknown before.
I think it occurrs likewise in Donne.
B. iv. C. x. S. l.
And next to her sate goodly SHAMEFASTNESS.
Shamefastness, if I remember right, is introduc'd as a person in Lidgate's story of Thebes.
B. vi C. xi. S. xxxviii.
And after them the fatal Welland went,
That if old sawes prove true (which God forbid)
Shall drowne all Holland with his excrement,
And shall see Stamford, tho' now homely hid,
Then shine in learning, more than ever did
Cambridge or Oxford, England's goodly beames.
Holland (says Selden, in his notes on Drayton's Polyolb. S. 8.) is the maritime part of Lincolnshire, where the river Welland flows. By the
old Sawes
the poet hints at a prophesy of Merlin,
Doctrinae studium quod nunc viget ad
VADA BOUM,
Ante finem saecli, celebrabitur ad
VADA SAXI.
VADA BOUM, i. e. Oxenford or Oxford; VADA SAXI, i. e. Staneford, or Stamford.
B. iv. C. x. S. xxxii.
And Mole that like a nousling mole doth make
His way—
So, in
Colin Clouts come home again,
In which like Moldwarps, nousling still they lurk.
B. iv. C. xii. S. xvii.
In this sad plight he walked here and there,
And romed round about the rocke in vaine,
As he had lost himself, he wist not where;
Oft listening if he mote her hear againe,
And still bemoaning his unworthy paine;
Like as an hynde whose calfe is falne unawares
Into some pit, where she him heares complaine,
An hundred times about the pit-side fares
Right sorrowfully mourning her beareaved cares.
This comparison has great propriety. There is one not much unlike it in Lucretius.
At mater virides saltus orbata peragrans,
Linquit humi pedibus vestigia pressa bisulcis,
Omnia convisens late loca; si queat unquam
Conspicere amissum faetum: completque querelis
Frondiferum nemus adsistens, & crebra revisit
Ad stabulum, desiderio perfixa juvenci.
2. 355.
The circumstance of the calf fallen into the pit, from whence the mother can only hear him complain, finely heightens this parental distress, and that of her walking round the pit so often, I think exceeds the
crebra revisit ad stabulum
; and it may be observ'd, upon the whole, that the tenderness of Spenser's temper remarkably betrays itself on this occasion.
B. v. C. i. S. ix.
Chrysaor is the name of Sir Arthegall's sword. Swords are often nam'd in Romance; and in Ariosto's Orlando Furioso; as, Orlando's Durindana, Renaldo's Fusberta, Rogero's Balisarda, &c.
B. v. C. i. S. xv.
That I mote drinke the cup whereof she dranke.
That is,
"That I might suffer what she did."
These words seem to be a very improper imitation of a passage in the New Testament, which every serious reader cannot but remember with the greatest reverence.
B. v. C. ii. S. xxvii.
The which her sire had scrapt by HOOKE AND CROOKE.
So again,
In hopes her to attaine BY HOOKE OR CROOKE.
3. 1. 17.
The proverb of getting any thing
by hooke or by crooke
is said to have arisen in the time of Charles I. when there were two learned Judges, nam'd HOOKE and CROOKE; and a difficult cause was to be gotten either by HOOKE or by CROOKE. But here is a proof that this proverb is much older than that time.
B. v. C. iii. S. xxiv, xxv.
When the false Florimel is plac'd by the side of the true Florimel, the former vanishes into nothing; and as suddenly, says the poet, as all the glorious colours of the rain-bow fade and perish. With regard to the circumstance of the sudden evanescence in each, the comparison is just and elegant: but if we consider, that a rainbow exists by the presence of the sun, the similitude by no means is made out: however, it is the former of these circumstances only which the poet insists upon, so that a partial correspondence only is expected.
B. v. C. iii. S. xxxiv.
Of Brigadore,
—And louted low on knee.
This is related of Alexander's horse Bucephalus.
B. v. C. iv. S. xlii.
Of an Eagle,
To weather his broad sayles—
Sails are often us'd by our author for wings, and after him by Milton. And by Fletcher,
So up he rose upon his stretched sailes.
Purple Island, C. 12. S. 59.
Again, by our author,
His flaggy wings when forth he did display,
Were like two sailes.—
1. 11. 10.
Thus Bayardo, in Ariosto, fights with a monstrous bird, whose wings are like two fails.
L'Ale havea grandé che parean
DUO VELE.
C. 33. S. 84.
Her wings so huge, they seemed like a saile.
Harrington.
B. v. C. v. S. iii.
And on her shoulder hung her shield bedeckt,
Upon the bosse, with stones that shined wide,
As the faire moon in her most full aspect.
Satan's shield is compar'd to the moon.
Par. Lost, 287.
But to the moon as seen through a telescope.
B. v. C. v. S. xi.
—Her sunshiny helmet soone unlaced,
Thinking, at once, both head and helmet to have raced.
xii.
But when as he discovered had her face,
He saw his senses strange astonishment, &c.
This is such a picture as Propertius gives us,
Ausa ferox ab equo quondam oppugnare sagittis
Maeotis Danaum Penthesilea rates;
Aurea cui postquam nudavit cassida frontem,
Vicit victorem candida forma virum.
3. 10.
B. v. C. viii. S. xxxvii.
At last from his victorious shield he drew
The veile, &c.—
And coming full before his horse's view,
As they upon him prest, it plain to them did shew.
xxxviii.
**********
So did the sight thereof their sense dismay,
That backe againe upon themselves they turned.
The Aegis is represented with the same effect on horses, in Val. Flaccus.
Aegida tum primùm virgo, spiramque Medusae
Tercentum saevis squallentem sustulit hydris;
Quam soli vidistis
EQUI;
pavor occupat ingens,
Excussis in terga viris.
—
6. 396.
B. v. C. viii. S. xliii.
Like as the cursed son of Theseus,
That * * * * * * *
Of his owne steeds was all to pieces torne.
Why does he call Hippolitus cursed? Neither was Hippolitus torn in pieces by his own horses, but by a monster sent by Neptune, as Euripides relates, Hipp. Cor. 1220. and other authors. In this account of the death of Hippolitus, he greatly varies from himself, 1. 5. 37, & seq.
B. v. C. ix. S. xxiii.
The marshall of the hall to them did come,
His name hight ORDER.—
Here Spenser paints from the manners of his own age. In his age the custom of a
—Feast
Serv'd up in hall with sewrs and seneshalls
was not entirely dropt. one of the officers at these solemnities was styl'd the marshall of the hall: An office which Chaucer tells us, his host at the tabard was very well qualified for.
A semely man our hoste was withal
To ben a MARSHALL IN A LORDIS HALL.
Prol. 753.
As the guests at these pompous and public festivals were very numerous, and of various conditions, I suppose the business of this office, was to place every one according to his rank, and to keep peace and order.
B. v. C. ix. S. xxix.
Whilst KINGS and KESARS at her feet did them prostrate.
Spenser frequently uses the expression
Kings and Kesars.
—The captive hearts
Of KINGS and KESARS.—
4. 7. 1.
This is the state of KESARS and of KINGS.
6. 3. 5.
Mighty KINGS and KESARS into thraldom brought.
3. 11. 29.
Ne KESAR spared he awhit nor KINGS.
6. 12. 28.
It is a very antient form of speaking, and is found in the Visions of Pierce Plowman.
Death came driving after, and all to dust pashed
KYNGES and KAYSERS, knights and popes.
Passus 16.
It was not unfamiliar in B. Johnson's time; thus,
Tu.
I charge you in the queen's name keep the peace.
Hil.
Tell me o' no QUEENE or KEYSAR.
A tale of a tub. A. 2. S. 2.
It occurrs likewise in Harrington's Ariosto.
For myters, states, nor crownes may not exclude
Popes, mightie KYNGS, nor KEYSARS from the same,
C. 44. S. 47.
B. v. C. ix. S. xxxv.
The horses of the sun,
Towards the western BRIM begin to draw.
BRIM is often us'd for
margin
or
bank
of a stream by our author, and the old poets. Also by Milton in Comus,
By dimpled brook, and fountain-BRIM.
V. 119.
FOUNTAIN-brim seems to have been a common pression. It is us'd by Drayton,
—Sporting with Hebe by a fountain-BRIM.
Bar. W. 6. 36.
And in Warner's Albion's England,
As this same fond selfe-pleasing youth stood at a FOUNTAYNE-BRIM.
B. 9. 46.
We have ocean-BRIM in the Paradise-lost,
With wheels yet hovering o'er the OCEAN-BRIM.
5. 140.
B. v. C. x. S. xxix.
And for more horror, and more crueltie,
Under that cursed idols altar-stone,
An hideous monster doth in darkness lie,
Whose dreadfull shape was never seen of none
That lives on earth.—
We are apt to conceive something very wonderful of those mysterious things which are thus said to be unknown to us, and to be out of the reach and compass of man's knowledge and apprehension. Thus a cave is said to be,
A dreadfull depth, how deepe no man can tell,
5. 9. 6.
If the poet had limited the depth of this cave to a very great, but to a certain number of fathom, the imagination could still have suppos'd and added more; but now as no determinate measure of its depth is assign'd, our imagination is left at liberty to exert its utmost arbitrary stretch, to add fathom to fathom, and depth to depth, till it is lost in it's own attempt to grasp the idea of that which is unbounded or infinite.
B. v. C. x. S. xxxiii.
—His corse,
Which tumbling downe upon the SENSELESSE ground.
It should rather be
"tumbling SENSELESSE downe."
We have the same metathetical form again,
But as he lay upon the
humbled
grass.
6. 7. 26.
Where
humbled
should be made to agree with
he
rather than with
grass.
B. v. C. xi. S. v.
The whilst at him so dreadfully did drive
That seem'd a marble rocke asunder could have rive.
Spenser undoubtedly wrote,
The whilst at him so dreadfully
he
did drive.
The y in
dreadfully
being slur'd, or cut off. So.
Saint George of merry' England the signe of victory.
1. 10. 61.
There are many other instances of the Caesura of this letter, in our author, as likewise in Milton. In the following verse
e
in
idle
is sunk.
What
idle'
errand hast thou earth's mansions to forsake?
6. 6. 25.
In this verse,
That seem'd a marble rock asunder could have RIVE.
there is an ellipsis of IT before
seem'd,
and of HE before
could
; and
rive
should have been RIV'D, unless he wrote it
rive
for RIVEN.
B. vi. Introduct. S. iv.
—To please the eye of them that pass
Which see not perfect things, but in a glass.
St. Paul to the Corinthians,
1 Ep. 13. 12.
"For now we see through a glass; darkly."
B. vi. C. ii. S. iv.
—Ah sory boy
Is this the hope that to my hoary heare
Thou bringst? aye me is this the timely joy
Which I expected long? now turn'd to sad annoy!
Aladine is brought home dead upon a bier to his father Aldus, who bursts out into these exclamations over his son's body; In like manner Evander mourns over his son Pallas,
—
Feretro Pallanta repostum.
Aen. 11. 149.
But these exclamations are somewhat similar to those which Aeneas in the same book utters over Pallas,
Hi nostri reditus, expectatique triumphi,
Haec mea magna fides,
&c.
11. 54.
B. vi. C. iii. S. xxviii.
—With carefull hands
Did her sustaine, softing foot her beside.
Softing-foot
is a typographical blunder which, I think, runs through all the editions for SOFT-FOOTING; William Ponsonby's edition in quarto, 1596, not excepted.
B. vi. C. vi. S. iv.
For whylome he had been a doughty knight.
That is the hermit had been, &c. Many of the hermits in romance are represented to have been very valorous knights in their youth. Hence it is that Don Quixote is introduced gravely debating with Sancho, whether he shall turn saint or archbishop.
B. vi. C. vii. S. i.
—A vile dunghill mind.
So,
The dearest to his dunghill mind.
3. 10. 15.
So in
an hymne of love,
His dunghill thoughts which do themselves enure
To durtie drosse.—
And Chaucer,
Now fie churle (quoth the gentle Tercelet)
Out of the dung-hill came that word aright.
Ass. F.
B. vi. C. viii. S. xxi.
And sitting carelesse on the
Scorner's stoole.
We meet with something like this in our old metrical version of the first psalm.
Nor sate in
Scorners chair.
B. vi. C. x. S. vi.
And in their tops the soaring hawke did towre,
Sitting like king of fowles in majestie and powre.
This is said in honour of hawking, which (as I before hinted) was a very fashionable and courtly diversion in Spenser's time. And for the same reason, and somewhat after the same manner, he particularizes the falcon, in the speech of the Genius of Verulam.
Where my high steeples whilome used to stand,
On which the lordly falcon wont to towre.
B. vi. C. xii. S. xvii.
A little maid the which ye CHILDED tho.
CHILDING is us'd in Chaucer for
conceiving,
viz.
Unknowing hym, CHYLDING by miracle.
Ball. Lady, v. 133.
B. vi. C. xii. S. xxiii. &c.
His description of the Blatant Beast (under which is shadow'd scandal or calumny) attacking all ranks of life, and making havock in courts, monasteries, and cottages, is exactly like this passage in the Lingua of Erasmus,
"
Circumferat quisque oculos suos, per domos privatas, per collegia, per monasteria, per aulas principum, per civitates, per regna; & compendio
discet, quantam ubique pestem ingerat
LINGUA CALUMNIATRIX."
Basiliae, apud Froben. 1526. pag. 220.
B. vii. C. vii. S. x.
That richer seems than any TAPESTRY
That princes bowres adorne with painted imagery.
In the age of the poet, tapestry was the most fashionable furniture of halls and state-rooms; as it was when Milton wrote his Comus, who mentions tapestry as a circumstance of grandeur.
—Courtesie,
Which oft is sooner found in lowly sheds,
With smoaky rafters, than in TAP'STRY HALLS
And courts of princes.—
As the general fashion of furnishing halls, &c. is at present entirely different from this, the reader passes over the expression, TAPESTRY-HALLS, without feeling any idea convey'd to him by it, because the object from whence it is drawn, does not at present exist: and we may observe, from this passage, how much of their force and propriety both expressions and descriptions must necessarily lose, when the objects, or customs, or manners, to which they allude, are out of use, and forgotten. There is another reference to tapestry in Milton, which is equally unmeaning to a modern reader,
Auditurque chelys
SUSPENSA TAPETIA
circum,
Virgineos tremulâ quae regat arte pedes.
B. 1. El. 6.
B. vii. C. vii. S. xxxv.
Like that ungracious crew which faines demurest grace.
He seems here to have intended a satirical stroke against the Puritans, who were a prevailing party in the age of Queen Elizabeth; and, indeed, our author, from his profession, had some reason to declare himself their enemy, as poetry was what they particularly stigmatiz'd, and bitterly inveigh'd against. In the year 1579, one Stephen Gosson wrote a pamphlet, with this title,
"The Schoole of Abuse, containing a pleasaunt invective against poets, pipers, plaiers, jesters, and such-like caterpillers of a commonwealth."
This was soon follow'd by many others of the same kind.
But the most ridiculous treatise of this sort was that written many years afterwards by W. Prynne; as a specimen of which, I shall beg leave to entertain the reader with its title-page.
"HISTRIOMASTIX, the Players Scourge, or Actors Tragedie, divided into two parts; wherein it is largely evidenced by divers arguments, by the concurring authorities, and resolutions of sundry texts of Scripture; of the whole primitive Church, both under the law and gospel; of fifty-five Synods and Councils, of seventy-one Fathers, and Christian writers, before the year of our Lord 1200; of above one hundred and fifty foraigne and domestic protestant and popish authors since; of forty heathen philosophers, historians, poets; of many heathen, many christian nations, republicks, emperors, princes, magistrates; of sundry apostolical, canonical, imperial constitutions, and of our own English statutes, magistrates, universities, writers, preachers.—That popular stage-playes (the very pompes of the devil, which we renounce in baptisme, if we believe the Fathers) are sinfull, heathenish, lewd, ungodly spectacles, and most pernicious corruptions; condemned in all ages as intolerable mischiefes, to churches, to republicks, the manners, mindes, and soules of men: and that the profession of play-poets, of stage-players, together with the penning, acting, and frequenting of stage-playes, are unlawfull, infamous, and misbeseeming christians: all pretences to the contrary are here likewise fully answer'd; and the unlawfullness of acting, of beholding academical enterludes briefly discussed; besides sundry other particulars concerning dancing, dicing, health-drinking, &c. London, 1633.
This extravagant and absurd spirit of puritanical enthusiasm, proved at last, in its effects, as pernicious to polite learning, and the fine arts, as to the liberties and constitution of our country: while every species of elegance was represented, by these austere and melancholy zealots, as damnable luxury, and every degree of decent adoration, as popish idolatry. In short, it is not sufficiently consider'd, what a rapid and national progress we were, at that time, making in knowledge, and how sudden a stop was put to it, by the inundation of presbyterianism and ignorance; which circumstance alone, exclusive of its other attendant evils, gives us ample cause to detest the promoters of that malignant (I wish I could add, unprovok'd) rebellion, which no good man can remember without horror.
It may not, perhaps, be impertinent to remark here, that Milton, who was inclin'd to puritanism, had good reason to think, that the publication of his Samson Agonistes, would be very offensive to his brethren, who held poetry, and particularly that of the dramatic kind, in such abhorrence. And, upon this account, it is probable, that, in order to excuse himself for having engag'd in this proscrib'd and forbidden species of writing, he thought it expedient to prefix to his play a formal DEFENCE OF TRAGEDY, in which he endeavours to prove, that some of the gravest writers did not scruple to illustrate their discourses from the works of tragic poets, and that many of the wisest philosophers, and of the primitive fathers, were not asham'd to write Tragedies.
The subsequent remarks are thrown together without order, which the reader is desir'd to look upon as a SUPPLEMENT to this concluding SECTION.
B. i. C. vi. S. xvi.
Farre off he wonders what them makes so glad,
Of
Bacchus merry fruits they did INVENT,
Or Cybel's frantic rights have made them mad.
Hughes reads, IF Bacchus', &c. but even then there is an obscurity. The meaning of the passage is this.
"He wonders what makes them so glad; he doubts with himself, whether or no their mirth was not occasion'd by wine which they had discover'd, or whether or no they might not be driven to madness by Cybel's rites."
INVENT is here one of Spenser's latinisms for
discover
; as it is also in this verse,
Ay me, that ever guile in women was
invented.
5. 11. 50.
That is, found out.
B. v. C. ix. S. xiii.
Like as the fowler on his guilefull pipe,
CHARMES to the birds full many a pleasant lay.
Charm
is thus us'd again, as Mr. Jortin observes, in
Colin Clouts come home again.
The shepheard's boy—
Sate as his custom was—
CHARMING his oaten pipe unto his peres.
It seems to be us'd somewhat in the same sense, St. 39. below.
That well could CHARME his tongue, and time his speach.
Again,
Here we our slender pipes may safely CHARME.
October.
B. v. C. vii. S. xxxiv.
The wicked shaft guided thro' th'
ayrie
WIDE.
Ayrie
WIDE seems to be us'd for
ayrie
VOID.
B. vii. C. vi. S. lv.
Speaking of Diana's departure from Ireland.
—parting from the place
Thereon a heavy haplesse curse did lay,
To weet, that wolves, where she was wont to
space
Should harbour'd be, and all those woods deface,
And thieves should rob, and spoil that coast around;
Since which those woods, and all that goodly chase,
Doth to this day with wolves and thieves abound.
In
Colin Clouts come home again,
where he is praising England, he does it by an enumeration of some of the miseries of Ireland.
No wayling there, nor wretchednesse is heard,
No bloudie issues, nor no leprosies;
No griesly famine, nor no raging sweard:
No nightly bodrags, nor no hues and cries,
The shepherds there abroad may safely lie
On hills and downes, withouten dread or danger:
No ravenous wolves the good mans hope destroy,
Nor outlawes fell affray the forrest ranger.
Space
is a latinism,
spatiari.
B. ii. C. xii. Arg.
Doth overthrow the bowre of bliss.
Sir Guyon's temptation is, in great measure, made to consist in the gratifications of sense afforded by a delicious garden. This circumstance puts me in mind of an instance related by Olaus Magnus,
B. 3. C. 20.
concerning the severity of manners among the antient Visigoths. This author informs us, that on the top of the mountain Kindaberg, near the castle of the same name, there was a beautiful garden, the most delicious spot of ground in all the Northern climate. Into this garden none but old men were permitted to enter. The admission of young men to a survey of so delightfull a scene, it was fear'd, might prove too great a relaxation from their unintermitted daily discipline, and make such impressions on their susceptible dispositions, as might be the beginnings of an effeminate and luxurious life.
B. vi. C. vi. S. xx.
To whom the prince, HIM faining to embase.
HIM for HIMSELF is the language of poetry at present. The elder poets took greater liberties in this point, so that sometimes it is difficult to determine whether HIM is us'd for
se
or
illum.
Of this the verse before us is an instance.
Thus again,
Scudamore coming to CARE's house
Doth sleep from HIM expell.
4. 5. Arg.
That is,
"expells sleep from HIMSELF."
Thus in Sydney's VISION upon the conceit of the FAERIE QUEENE, the most elegant of his works.
At whose approache the soule of Petrarcke wept,
And from thenceforth those graces were not seen,
For they this queene attended; in whose stead
OBLIVION laid HIM down on Lauras' herse.
We are apt, at first, to refer HIM
down,
&c. to Petarcke,
"OBLIVION
laid
PETRARKE
down,
"
While the meaning is,
"OBLIVION LAID HIMSELF DOWNE, &c."
The initial line of this sonnet seems to have been thought of by Milton, viz.
Methought I sawe the grave where Laura lay,
Thus Milton on his Deceased wife.
Son. 23.
Methought I saw my late-espoused saint.
And he probably took the hint of writing a visionary sonnet on that occasion, from this of Sydney.
B. vi. C. iv. S. xix.
His target allwaies over her
pretended.
PRETENDED,
"stretch'd or held over her."
This latinism is to be found in Milton, but in a sense somewhat different.
—Lest that too heavenly form PRETENDED
To hellish falshood, snare them.—
Par. Lost, 10. 872.
B. iii. C. ii. S. xxxii.
The time that mortall men their weary cares
Do lay away, and all wilde beasts do rest,
And every river eke his course forbeares,
Then doth this wicked evill thee infest.
These verses which, at first sight, seem to be drawn rom Dido's
I cannot forbear taking this opportunity of checking the petulance, and confuting the weakness of the redoubted Mr. Rymer's criticism on the NIGHT of MEDEA in Apollonius.
.
.
. B. 3. V. 743.
"Night drew her shade over the earth: The mariners contemplated from their ships Helice and Orion; the traveller and doorkeeper were drowsy; the sleeping mother forgott her dead children; there was no barking of dogs heard through the city, nor any loud sound; and silence attended upon the black darkness.—But sweet sleep did not seize Medea."
Upon the propriety of these images Mr. Rymer thus expatiates.
"He would say that all the world is fast asleep but only Medea; and then his mariners, who are gazing from their ships on Helice and Orion, can serve but little for his purpose; unless they may be supposed to sleep with their eyes open. Neither dares he say that the porter and traveller are yet taking a nap, but only that they have a good mind to't. And after all, we find none but the good woman who had lost her child (and she indeed is fast) asleep, unless the dogs may likewise be supposed so, because they had left off barking. And these methinks were scarce worthy to be taken notice of in an heroic poem, except we may believe that in the old time, or that in Greek, they bark heroically."
Our critic here unfortunately sets on upon a supposition absolutely false, viz. that
"the poet is representing all the world as fast asleep,"
so that every argument which he draws from this supposition must necessarily fall to the ground. Apollonius ushers in his night-piece by telling us,
"night cover'd the earth with her shade,"
and afterwards selects such objects and circumstances the repose and tranquillity of which produce the most striking contrast to, and consequently most strongly exaggerate the distraction and inquietude of Medea. Hence he tells us that the mariner was contemplating with calm attention the constellations of Helice and Orion; or, that now it was the time, according to Virgil's translation,
cum medio volvuntur sydera lapsu:
or that it was a still, and consequently a silent night, that even the traveller and door-keeper (whom he singles out, as their employment implies watching and wakefullness) were now about to fall asleep; that even the mother (whom we might expect to find awake) had now forgot her dead babes in slumber; that the dogs had ceased barking thro' the city, a circumstance highly natural and picturesque of a still night; that every sound, &c. but, that amidst this situation of things Medea could not sleep. But what can we expect from a critic who confesses himself to be struck with this choice representation of the night in Dryden's conquest of Mexico?
All things are husht, as Nature's self lay dead;
The mountains seem to nod their drowsy head:
The little birds in dreams their songs repeat,
And sleeping flowers beneath the night-dew sweat.
Ev'n Lust and Envy sleep.—
These lines are no bad burlesque; but it is their misfortune, that they are written without the least intention of producing a smile. Nor are Mr. Rymer's sentiments upon them a worse specimen of burlesque criticism, which however are dictated with the most serious and unaffected gravity.
In this description, four lines yield greater variety of matter, and more choice thoughts than twice the number of any other language. Here is something more fortunate than the boldest fancy has yet reached, and something more just, than the severest reason has observed. Here are the flights of Statius and Marino temper'd with a more discerning judgment, and the judgment of Virgil and Tasso animated with a more sprightly wit. Nothing has been said so expressive and so home in any other language as the first verse in this description. The second is Statius improv'd.
Et simulant fessos curvata cacumina somnos,
Saith Statius, where
simulant
is a bold word in comparison of our English word
seem,
being of an active signification; and
cacumina
may as well be taken for the tops of Trees, as the tops of Mountains, which doubtful meaning does not so well content the reader, as the certainty.
In the third verse, 'tis not said that the birds sleep, but what is more new, and more poetical, their sleep is imply'd, by their dreams. Somewhat like to the fourth we have in Marino.
—
E languidetti i fiori
Giaceano a l'herba genitrice in seno.
Adonis, Cant. 20.
Which is a pretty image, but has not so near a resemblance with truth, nor can so generally be apply'd to all flowers. Our author here dares not say directly that the flowers sleep, which might sound a little harsh, but slurs it over in the
participle,
as taken for granted, and affirms only that they sweat, which the night-dew makes very easie.
In the last half-verse, we may see how far our author has outdone Apollonius. 'Twas no such strange thing in the sorrowful woman when she had spent her tears, for sleep to close her eyes: but here we have the most raging and watchful passions lust and envy. And these too instead of the lustful and the envious, for the greater force and emphasis, in the abstract.
Some may object, That the third verse does contradict the first. How can all things be hush'd, if birds in dreams repeat their songs? Is not this like the indiscretion of Marino? who says, That the winds and all things are husht, and the seas so fast asleep, that they snore. Cant. 20.
It may be answer'd, That in this place 'tis not the poet that speaks, but another person; and that the poet here truly represents the nature of man, whose first thoughts break out in bold and more general terms, which by the second thoughts are more correct and limited. As if one should say, all things are silent, or asleep however; if there is any noise, 'tis still but the effect of sleep, as the dreams of birds, &c. This comparison might be much further improv'd to our advantage, and more observations made, which are left to the readers ingenuity.
Pref. to Aristot. POET.
night in the fourth Aeneid, are translated from the Ceiris attributed to Virgil, as it has been before in general hinted, Sect. 3.
Tempore quo fessas mortalia pectora curas,
Quo rapidos etiam requiescunt flumina cursus.
232.
B. iv C. vi. S. xliv.
With that the wicked Carle, the master smith,
A paire of red-hot iron tongs did take,
Out of the burning cinders, and therewith
Under the side him nipt.—
In these verses the allegory is work'd up to an amazing height. What he says of Erinnys in the RUINS of ROME, is somewhat in this strain,
What fell Erinnys with hot-burning tongs,
Did gripe your hearts?—
St. 24.
From the same stanza Milton probably drew the expression BLIND FURY, in Lycidas; as it was not taken from the authority of antient mythology.
Comes the BLIND FURY, with th' abhorred shears
And slits the thin-spun life.—
Spenser,
If the BLIND Furie, which warres breedeth oft,
Wonts not, &c.
B. v. C. vii. S. 21.
Magnificke virgin, that in QUEINT DISGUISE
Of British armes.—
That is,
"in
strange
disguise."
In this sense the word QUEINT is us'd in COMUS.
—Lest the place,
And this QUEINT habit breed astonishment.
Somewhat in this signification it is likewise applied by the shepherd Cuddy, in our author's OCTOBER.
With QUEINT Bellona.—
Where E. K. in explaining it, has discover'd more learning than penetration. Skinner seems to have wrongly interpreted QUAINT,
elegans.
If it ever signifies
elegant
or
beautifull,
it implies a fantastic kind of beauty arising from an odd variety. Thus Milton in LYCIDAS, of flowers.
Throw hither all your QUEINT enamel'd eyes.
And in ARCADES; where it expresses an elegance resulting from affectation rather than nature.
—And CURL the grove
In ringlets QUAINT.—
Where Milton copies Johnson, in a MASKE at Welbeck, 1633.
When was old Sherwoods head more QUEINTLY CURLD?
The same poet has likewise drawn one or two more strokes in the ARCADES, from a mask of Johnson. In song 1. he thus breaks forth,
This, this is she
To whom our vows, and wishes, &c.
So Johnson in an Entertainment at Althrope, 1603.
This is shee,
This is shee.
Milton in Song 3. pays this compliment to the countess of Derby,
Tho' Syrinx your Pan's mistress were,
Yet Syrinx well might wait on her.
Thus Johnson in the same Entertainment.
And the dame has Syrinx' grace.
These little traits of likeness just lead us to conclude, that Milton before he sate down to write his ARCADES, had recourse to Johnson (who was the most eminent masque-writer then extant) for the form and manner proper to this species of composition, and that in the course of writing it, he naturally fell upon some of Johnson's expressions.
B. vi. C. ix. S. xxix.
In vaine, said then old Melibee, doe men
The heavens of their fortunes fault accuse,
Sith they know best, what is the best for them;
For they to each such fortune doe diffuse,
As they do know each can most aptly use.
For not that which men covet most is best,
Nor that thing worst which men do most refuse:
But fittest is, that all-contended rest
With that they hold: each has his fortune in his breast.
xxx.
It is the mind that maketh good or ill.
In these lines he plainly seems to have had his eye on those exalted
SOCRATES,
quasi quoddam terrestre oraculum, nihil ultra petendum a diis immortalibus arbitrabatur, quam ut bona tribuerent, quia ii demum scirent, quid unicuique esset utile, &c.
VALERIUS MAX. l. 7. c. 2.
See the second ALCIBIADES of Plato.
Socratic sentiments, which Juvenal has given us in the close of his tenth satire. The last-cited lines, in particular, point out to us the sense in which Spenser understood the two last controverted verses of that satire.
Nullum numen [abest] habes, si sit prudentia; sed
TE
NOS FACIMUS FORTUNA DEAM,
caeloque locamus.
B. iv. C. viii. S. xxxvii.
With easy steps so soft as foot could STRIDE.
Probably we should read
slide
for STRIDE; though STRIDE occurs in the old quarto.
B. ii. C. iii. S. iv.
—his BRAND.
Concerning the word BRAND for
sword,
take the following explication of Hickes.
"In the second part of the EDDA
Islandica,
among other appellations, a sword is denominated BRAND; and
glad
or
glod,
that is,
titio, torris, pruna ignita
; and the hall of the Odin is said to be illuminated by drawn swords only. A writer of no less learning than penetration, N. Salanus Westmannus, in his Dissertation, entitled, GLADIUS SCYTHICUS, pag. 6, 7. observes, that the antients formed their swords in imitation of a flaming fire; and thus, from BRAND a
sword,
came our English phrase, to
brandish a sword, gladium strictum vibrando coruscare facere.
"
Ling. Vet. Sept. Thes, cap. 23. pag. 193.
B. i. C. ii. S. iv.
He is speaking of the witch Duessa.
Till on a day, (that day is every prime,
When witches wont do penance for their crime)
I chaunct to see her in her proper hew,
Bathing herself in origane and thyme,
A filthy foule old woman, &c.
The penance here mention'd, I suppose, our author drew from tradition, or romance. From one of these sources, Milton seems to have deriv'd, and applied his annual penance of the devils.
—Thus were they plagu'd,
And worn with famin, long and ceaseless hiss,
Till their lost shape, permitted, they resum'd;
Yearly injoyn'd, they say, to undergo
This ANNUAL HUMBLING certain number'd days.
Par. Lost, 10. 572.
B. iii. C. i. S. xxxv.
To crowne his golden locks with honor dew.
Honor dew,
frequently occurs in Spenser, from whom Milton, perhaps, adopted it in L'Allegro.
If I give thee HONOUR DUE.
It has been conjectur'd, that Milton took the hint, in some measure, for writing on MIRTH and MELANCHOLY, from the Ode prefix'd to Burton's MELANCHOLY. In support of this supposition I shall add, that Milton had certainly been consulting that treatise before he wrote his two poems, as this line in L'Allegro,
Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles,
occurs almost literally in Burton,
Not in the poem prefix'd, but in the Book itself, pag. 487. edit. 1660.
With becks, and nods, and smiles again.
Before I close this series of Observations, I will hope for the reader's pardon once more, while I lengthen out this digression, in order to illustrate another passage in Milton.
Leviathan—
* * * *
Him haply slumbring on the Norway foam
The pilot of some small night-founder'd skiff,
Deeming some iland, oft, as sea-men tell,
With fixed anchor in his scaly rind
Moors in his side, under the lee, &c.
Par. Lost, 1. 201.
On the words,
as Sea-men tell,
says Hume,
"Words well added to obviate the incredibility of casting anchor in this manner."
It is likely that Milton never heard this improbable circumstance, of mistaking the Whale for an Iland, from the sea-men, but that he drew it from that passage in his favorite Ariosto, where Astolpho, Dudon, and Renaldo are said to have seen so large a Whale in the sea, near Aclyna's castle, that they took it for an island.
Veggiamo una Balena: la maggiore,
Che mai per tutto il mar veduta fosse:
Undeci passi, e piu dimostra fuore
Di l' onde salse le spallaccie grosse.
Caschiamo tutti insieme in uno errore:
Parch'era ferma, e che mai non si scosse:
CH' ELLA SIA UNA ISOLETTA CI CREDEMO,
Cosi distante ha l' un à l' altro estremo.
C. 6. S. 37.
Among the rest that were too long to count,
We saw the fish that men Balaena call;
Twelve yards above the water did amount
His mighty backe, the monster is so tall:
And (for it stood so still) we made account
It had been land, but were deceived all,
We were deceiv'd, well I may rew the while,
It was so huge, we thought it was an ile.
Harrington.
Afterwards
St. 41.
Astolpho, persisting in his mistake, ventures upon the back of the Whale, with Alcyna, and is carried out many miles into the sea.
Milton's imagination, possest with these extravagancies (for he was a great reader of Ariosto) was easily dispos'd to give us this romantic fiction of his Leviathan, the absurdity of which he has prudently enough tranferr'd to sea-men, who deal in idle reports.
He has given us somewhat of a similar idea in another place.
—there Leviathan,
Hugest of living creatures, on the deep
Stretch'd like a promontory, sleeps, or swims
And seems a moving land.—
Par. Lost, 7. 413.
B. vii. C. vii. S. xvii.
I do possesse the worlds most REGIMENT.
Spenser very frequently makes use of REGIMENT for Rule, GOVERNMENT, DISTRICT, &c.
Gainst tortious powre, and lawlesse REGIMENT.
5. 8. 30.
So when he had resign'd his REGIMENT.
2. 10. 30.
When the full time, prefixt by destinie,
Shall be expir'd of Britons REGIMENT.
3. 3. 39.
Then loyall love had royall REGIMENT.
4. 8. 30.
—Strive
With saturnes sonne for heavens REGIMENT.
7. 6. 2.
In the following instance it is us'd for KINGDOM,
An auncient booke.—
That of his lands first conquest did devise,
And old division into REGIMENTS.
2. 9. 59.
B. iv. C. vi. S. xiv.
Like as the lightning brond from riven skie,
Thrown out by angry Jove in his vengeance,
With dreadfull force falles on some steeple hie,
Which battring, downe it on the church doth glaunce,
And teareth all with terrible mischaunce.
Not many years before the FAERIE QUEENE was written, viz. 1561, the steeple of St. Paul's church was struck with lightening, by which means not only the steeple itself, but the entire roof of the church was consumed.
Stow's Survey of London, pag. 357. edit. 1633.
The description in this simile was probably suggested to our author's imagination by this remarkable accident.
POSTSCRIPT.
IN the close of this work, it may not be perhaps improper to subjoin an apology for the manner in which I have conducted it.
And first it may be objected in general, that these observations would have been rendered more useful and convenient had they been printed together with Spenser's text, arrang'd in their respective places; at least it may be urged that such a plan would have prevented much unnecessary transcription. But I was dissuaded from such a procedure by two reasons; the first is, The observations, (the last section excepted) as they now stand, reduced to general heads, appear to be so many distinct essays on Spenser; and thus methodized, are intended to form a kind of systematical critcism on the FAERIE QUEENE. The second is, that a formal edition of this poem with notes, would have been impertinent, as such a work is at present expected from the hands of two learned and ingenious critics.
As to particular ejections, too many, I am sensible, must occur; one of which will probably be, that I have been more diligent in pointing out the faults than the beauties of this author. That I have been deficient in encomiums on particular passages, did not proceed from a want of perceiving or acknowledging beauties, but from a persuasion, that nothing is more absurd or useless than the panegyrical comments of those, who criticise from the imagination, rather than from the judgement, who exert their admiration instead of their reason, and discover more of enthusiasm than discernment. And this must necessarily, (it will however most commonly) be the case of those, who undertake to point out beauties; which, as they will naturally approve themselves to the reader by their own force, so no reason can often be given why they please. The same cannot always be said of faults, which I have frequently displayed without palliation;
See more particularly Sect. 1.
it being my chief aim, together with that of particular illustration, to give an impartial estimate of the merit of this original genius.
I cannot take my final leave of the reader without acknowledging that this task has been peculiarly delightful to me; tho' the business of criticism is generally laborious and dry, yet it has here more frequently amused than fatigu'd my attention, in it's exercises upon an author who makes such perpetual and powerful appeals to the fancy. The pleasure which Spenser received in composing the FAERIE QUEENE must necessarily be shared by it's commentator; and the critic, on this occasion, may venture to exclaim with the poet,
The waies thro' which my weary steppes I guide
In this DELIGHTFULL LAND OF FAERY,
Are so exceeding spacious and wide,
And sprinkled with such sweet varietie
Of all that pleasant is to ear or eye,
That I nigh ravisht with rare thoughts delight,
My tedious travel do forgett thereby,
And when I gin to feel decay of might,
It strength to me supplies, and cheares my dulled spright.
7. 6. 1.
FINIS.
INDEX.
[
N.B.
The Numbers relate to the Pages.]
A.
ABBE DU BOS,
his censure upon Ariosto's Orlando Furioso,
12.
condemns those painters who introduce their own allegories into divine subjects,
223, 224.
Academicians, della Crusca,
prefer Ariosto to Tasso,
3.
Action, allegorical,
why faulty,
238, 239.
ADONIS, his gardens,
Spenser founds his fiction concerning them on antient mythology,
65.
AGAVE
her story,
73.
AGDISTES, a GENIUS, 58.
Alexandrine verses,
rules concerning them,
259, 260, 261.
Allegories,
Spenser's manner of forming them accounted for,
218, 219, 220, 221, 222.
publicly shewn in Q. Elizabeth's time,
218.
capital fault in Spenser's,
222, 223, 224, 225.
some of them examin'd,
222, 223.
Spenser's manner of allegorizing different from Ariosto's, and why,
219, 220.
Alliteration,
practis'd by the Saxon poets,
89, 90.
Ambiguous expression, instances of,
in Spenser,
177, 178, 179,
in Milton,
179.
Anachronism, instances of,
in Spenser,
173, 174, 175, 176.
APOLLONIUS, Rhodius,
illustrated,
77, 78.
copied by Milton,
76, 79, 80.
excells Theocritus in the story of Hylas,
68.
illustrated,
257.
his Night-piece of Medea vindicated,
298.
ARCHIMAGO, instance of,
his hypocrisy, copied from Ariosto,
143.
of his illusion,
143.
ARIOSTO,
imitates Boyardo,
2.
account of the plan of his poem,
10, 11, 12.
his genius comic,
157, 158.
Ardenne, water of,
Ariosto's mention of it alluded to by Spenser,
151, 152.
Arte of English poesie, author of,
condemns Spenser's obsolete style in his Pastorals,
88.
commends his Pastorals,
88.
his account of singing to the harp in Q. Elizabeth's time,
36.
censures Skelton,
36.
ARTHUR, Prince,
cannot properly be called the hero of the
FAERIE QUEENE, 5.
ARTHUR, King,
romantic tradition concerning him,
43.
ASTRAEUS, a sea-god,
account of him,
73.
AVARICE, Ariosto's,
how she came to be so represented,
155.
B.
Bards,
introduc'd with propriety by Spenser,
266.
BASCIO MANI, 262.
BELLONA,
Spenser misrepresents her birth,
81.
BENI,
his false taste, in comparing Ariosto with Homer,
2.
BEVIS, Sir, of Southampton,
a poem so entitled, imitated by Spenser,
34, 35.
BITE, 124, 125.
BLANDAMOUR, a name,
drawn from Chaucer, or from a Romance so called,
135, 136.
BLATANT BEAST,
the hint of it taken from Morte Arthur, a Romance,
17.
partly occasioned by Ariosto's description of Jealousy and Avarice,
155.
BLOUD-GUILTINESSE, and BLOUD-THIRSTIE, 248.
BRAND, 304.
Bridge, remarkable one,
copied from Ariosto, or from Morte Arthur,
153.
BRIGADORE, name of a horse,
drawn from Ariosto,
154.
BRITOMART,
how properly styl'd the patronesse of Chastity,
60.
her history,
61.
her discovery copied from Ariosto,
151.
she is a copy of Ariosto's Marsifa, and Bradamante,
151.
BUCEPHALUS,
Spenser copies a tradition concerning him,
280.
BURMANNUS,
ridicul'd,
208.
BY HOOKE OR BY CROOKE, 279, 280.
C.
CHARLES II.
the taste for poetry in his age, censur'd,
237.
CHAUCER,
his style copied by Spenser,
88, 141.
and many of his sentiments,
100.
encomium upon him,
141, 142.
corrected,
198.
why styl'd one of the first English poets,
228.
Ceiris, of Virgil,
where copied by Spenser,
63.
CERBERUS,
suppos'd to be the proper reading in Milton's second verse of L'Allegro, and why,
51.
CHARM, 294.
CHEKLATON, 130.
CHILDED, 289.
CHIRON,
beautiful description of his astonishment, after hearing the music of Orpheus,
80.
Chivalry,
practis'd in Q. Elizabeth's age,
14. Books of,
descriptions in them ridicul'd by Chaucer,
104.
Climate, description of a fine,
copied from Chaucer,
106.
COCYTUS,
Spenser misrepresents Mythology concerning it,
56.
Commentators,
their difference of opinion accounted for,
205, 206.
Construction, confus'd, instances of,
in Spenser,
166, 167, 176.
CONCENT, 273, 274.
CONTECK, 128, 129.
CRUDOR,
his insolence and cruelty, copied from Morte Arthur, a Romance,
19.
CUPID and PSYCHE,
Spenser misrepresents Apuleius's account of them,
64.
CUPID,
a representation of him copied from Chaucer,
118.
a false one,
118.
how represented by Catullus and Sappho,
119.
a description of him copied from Ariosto, or from N. Archias,
156, 157.
D.
Dance of Death,
account of prints so call'd,
230, 231, 232.
alluded to by Spenser,
232.
DANGER,
personify'd from Chaucer,
135.
DARRAINE, 121, 122.
DEATH'S DOOR, 274.
Despair,
why Spenser excell'd in painting it,
193, 194.
DOEN TO DIE, 124.
DOUZEPERE, 134.
Dragon-encounters,
exactly copied by Spenser from Romance,
37.
DRAYTON,
a romantic story borrow'd by him from Geoffrey of Monmouth,
20.
DRYDEN,
censur'd, for affirming that Prince Arthur appears in every part of the
FAERIE QUEENE, 6.
and for his manner of praising the Paradise Lost,
237.
and for misrepresenting Milton's reason for chusing blank verse,
237, 238.
imitates Spenser,
249.
DUESSA, her discovery,
copied from Ariosto,
146.
E.
E. K. the commentator on Spenser's Aeglogues,
his reason why Spenser chose to write in an obsolete style,
92.
Elfes and Goblins,
whence deriv'd,
39.
Elficleos, king
Henry
vii. 39.
Enchanted cup, story of,
drawn by Ariosto, from Morte Arthur, a Romance,
30.
Elleipsis, instances of,
in Spenser,
160, 161, 162, 163, 164, 165.
in Milton,
165.
EMBOWD, 246.
ENGLISH LANGUAGE,
its corruptions about Q. Elizabeth's age,
93, 94, 95.
Spenser's disapprobation of these corruptions, proved from his own words,
96.
notwithstanding he himself contributed to add to these corruptions, and why,
97, 98.
ENDLONG, 134.
ENVY,
Spenser's indelicacy in describing her,
47.
and excellence,
48.
EUPHEMUS, a sea-god,
account of him,
74.
F.
Faeries,
sometimes us'd for any ideal people,
42.
whence the fiction of them was deriv'd,
43.
FAERIE Nation,
Spenser's original and genealogy of it partly explain'd,
38, 39, 40.
—QUEENE,
a popular tradition,
40.
suppos'd to exist in K. Arthur's time,
41.
Spenser's poem, so call'd, occasion'd many imitations, on its publication, in which fairies were actors,
41.
FATALL, 201, 202.
FEAR,
Spenser excells in painting it,
190, 191, 192, 193, 194, 195.
FFRRAUGH (Sir)
a name drawn from Ariosto,
151.
FILE, 120.
FILED, 263.
FLORIMEL, false,
simile concerning her examined,
280. fiction of her,
whence drawn,
240, 241.
French,
more fond of manners than fiction,
237.
FURIES,
the antients afraid to name them,
45.
G.
GASCOIGNE, George,
account of him,
268, 269, 270.
GELLI, his Circe,
afforded a hint to Spenser,
258.
GENEURA, tale of, in Ariosto,
copied by Spenser,
147.
GENIUS,
a particular one, drawn by Spenser from N. Comes,
58.
and a circumstance concerning him from Horace,
59.
another drawn from the picture of Cebes,
60.
GIAMBEUX, 139.
GLITTERAND, 123, 124.
GLOCESTER, Robert of, 227.
GLORIANA, Q. Elizabeth, 40.
the attainment of her the End of the
FAERIE QUEENE, 4.
Prince Arthur improperly conducted to this End,
4, 5,
GLODE, 136.
GORLOIS, story of,
alluded to by Milton,
265, 266.
GOWER,
why styl'd one of the first English poets,
228.
GRACES,
Milton misrepresents their birth, and improperly,
75.
GRAYLE,
Holy, a tradition concerning it borrow'd from Morte Arthur, a Romance,
26.
GRIDE, 180, 199.
GUILE, a circumstance belonging to,
borrow'd from Ariosto,
154.
H.
Hair, long, description of,
copied from Chaucer,
132. yellow,
why Spenser always attributes it to his Ladies,
187, 188.
Hall, Marshall of,
his Office,
283.
HARDYKNUTE, a Scottish poem,
commended,
114.
HARDING, John,
his character,
232.
HARRINGTON,
his versification censur'd in the translation of Orlando,
87.
HARROW, 127, 128.
HAWKING,
often, alluded to by Spenser, and why,
272, 289.
HAWKS, Stephen,
his character,
233.
HECATE,
Spenser misrepresents Mythology concerning her,
46, 81.
HENRY viii.
improvement of taste and learning in his age,
234.
HERNE, Thomas,
Specimen of his Preface to Robert of Glocester,
227, 228.
Hero, unity of,
necessary in the heroic poem,
4, 5.
not preserv'd in the
FAERIE QUEENE, 5, 6, 7, 8.
his business in the heroic poem,
6.
HERSE and HERSALL, 265.
HIM, for himself, 296, 297.
HIPPOLITUS,
his story misrepresented,
282.
HISTORY, antient,
often falsify'd by Spencer, and why,
44.
Historical Regularity,
how Spenser varies from it, in the plan of the
FAERIE QUEENE, 9.
HOLBEIN, Hans,
prints call'd the Dance of Death, falsly attributed to him,
230, 231, 232.
HOLLAND, in Lincolnshire,
what,
277.
Horn, a miraculous one,
copied from Ariosto,
145.
HORROR,
a picture of him, copied by Milton from Spenser,
54.
HUGHES, the editor of Spenser,
censur'd, for commending the first book of the
FAERIE QUEENE,
as a regular contrivance,
6.
for reducing the text of Spenser to modern orthography,
87.
a reading of him rejected,
293, 294.
HUON, Sir,
a Romance so call'd,
247.
HYLAS,
a new solution concerning his fable,
67.
custom concerning him, how it arose,
67.
I.
JAMES I.
Allegory began to decline in his age,
236.
JANE, 131.
JEALOUSY, Ariosto's,
how she came to be so represented,
156.
JEW, character of a cruel and covetous one,
represented on the stage with applause, before Shakespere's Shylock,
98.
Imitations,
hard to be ascertain'd,
181.
Spenser's of himself,
181, 182, 183, 184, 188, 189, 190, 191, 192, 193, 194, 195.
JORTIN (Mr.)
suppos'd to have mistaken a passage,
49. conjecture of,
supported,
197.
Inconsistency, instances of,
in Spenser,
170, 171, 172.
Indelicacy,
instances of Spenser's,
47, 48.
Inaccuracies,
Spenser guilty of many, and why,
159.
INN, 201.
INO,
Spenser's confus'd account of her story,
72.
Introduction, form of,
copied from Chaucer,
129, 130, 131.
and from Bevis of Southampton,
131.
INVENT, 293.
JOHNSON, Ben,
his opinion of Spenser's language, censur'd,
98, 99.
his sentiments on old words, commended,
99.
IS NOT LONG, 275.
Italian language,
deals largely in identical cadences,
82.
much affected in Q. Elizabeth's time,
93, 94.
Italian books,
many of them translated into English in Q. Elizabeth's time,
94.
Judgement, Spenser's,
how far over-rul'd by his imagination,
102.
JUVENAL,
copied by Spenser,
304.
K.
KINGS and KESARS, 285.
L.
LAD, 139, 140.
LADY OF THE LAKE,
the fiction of her, whence borrow'd by Spenser,
21, 22.
introduc'd to make part of Q. Elizabeth's entertainment at Kenelworth,
22.
alluded to by B. Johnson,
24.
LAIR, 275.
LANE, John,
account of him,
114.
LONGLANDE,
the author of Pierce Plowman's Visions,
89.
LUCRETIUS,
where exceeded by Spenser,
278, 279.
LYDGATE,
commended, and censur'd,
229, 230, 231, 232.
M.
MAKE and MARR, 212, 213, 214.
MALBECCO, his escape,
copied from Ariosto,
150.
MALEGER, his death,
copied from Ariosto,
147.
MANY, 139.
MARSTON, John,
his satyres commended,
41.
inferior to Hall's,
42.
Specimen of them,
42.
MARTE, 120.
MATERASTA,
name of her castle, drawn from Morte Arthur, a Romance,
31.
MASQUES,
Milton indebted to one for a thought,
218, 219.
Spenser's imitation of them,
220, 221.
Merchant of Venice, story of,
drawn from an old ballad,
94, 95, 96, 97. 98.
MERLIN,
a story concerning him, borrow'd by Spenser from Morte Arthur, a Romance,
25.
and by Ariosto,
28, 29.
his enterview with Britomart copied from Ariosto,
149.
a prophesy made by him,
278.
MILTON, his poem
in Q. Novemb. a prelusion to his Paradise Lost,
55.
instances of his self-imitation,
173, 174, 175, 176, 177, 178.
corrected,
272, 273.
explain'd,
240.
reasons for his defence of tragedy,
293.
imitates W. Niccols,
242, 243.
illustrated,
246.
imitates Euripides, Homer, and Casimir,
251, 252, 253.
illustrated,
255, 297.
explain'd,
265.
corrected,
273.
imitates Johnson,
303.
illustrated,
301, 305, 306, 307, 308.
Mirror, Britomart's,
borrow'd from Chaucer,
108, 109. Mirror of magistrates,
criticism upon, and account of,
235.
MIS,
often prefix'd to a word by Spenser,
197.
MORTE ARTHUR,
an old Romance, printed by Caxton, much red and imitated by Spenser,
15.
a fashionable book in Q. Elizabeth's time,
21, 24.
alluded to by B. Johnson,
24, 27.
and by Camden,
27.
and by Milton,
27.
imitated by Ariosto,
28.
and alluded to by him,
30.
MOLE, noussing, 278.
MORALIZE, 239.
MORE, Sir Thomas,
specimen of a pageant compos'd by him,
184, 185.
MOST and LEAST, 137.
MORE and LESSE, 137.
MUCH and LITE, 138.
MOTHER-WIT,
copied by Dryden from Spenser,
277.
MURTHER,
Milton's description of him, equall'd by Fletcher's,
54.
MUSAEUS,
copied by Spenser,
185, 186, 187.
Mythology, antient,
falsify'd by Spenser, and why,
44.
N.
NATALIS COMES,
Spenser copies the Deities present at the marriage of Thames and Medway, from him,
73, 74.
NATURE,
description of her, copied from Chaucer,
116, 117, 118.
Negatives, two for an affirmative,
us'd by Chaucer, after the Saxon practice,
140.
NEREUS,
represented according to Mythology, by Spenser,
75.
NIGHT,
justly represented by Spenser,
50, 51, 52, 53.
Milton suppos'd to have taken a hint from Spenser's representation of her,
53.
NOVEMBER, &c.
copied from Chaucer,
119, 120.
O.
OBERON, King Henry viii, 39.
OLAUS, MAGNUS,
his account of a Swedish enchanter.
OLD AGE,
figures of,
274.
OLLYPHANT, a name,
borrow'd from Chaucer,
130.
OPHION,
said to be of the serpent race, by Apollonius, as well as by Milton,
75.
Ordeal, a word
apply'd from Chaucer,
137.
ORLANDO FURIOSO,
its plan more irregular than that of the
FAERIE QUEENE, 10.
the faults in its plan,
11.
hint of its hero's madness, drawn from Morte Arthur, a Romance,
31.
ORPHEUS,
author of the Argonautics, falsely so call'd,
72.
ORPHEUS,
his song in Onomacritus and Apollonius, alluded to by Milton,
79.
his song in Apollonius, often alluded to by Spenser,
76.
Orthography,
often violated by Spenser, and other antient poets, for the Rhyme-sake,
84, 85, 86.
ORTHRUS, 73.
P.
Pageants, Spenser's,
specimen of the nature of them,
184, 185.
PASTORELL,
her distress, copied from Ariosto,
155.
PLAN,
of the
FAERIE QUEENE,
what,
4.
its faults,
4, 5, 6, 7, 8.
its excellency,
9.
POPE,
imitates Johnson,
166.
POWDER,
to,
263,
in what sense applied by Milton,
264.
Poetry,
use and nature of it in the early ages,
76.
PREST, 202, 203, 204.
PRICK,
to,
139.
PROSERPINE, her garden,
Spenser falsifies Mythology concerning it,
56, 57.
Provencal poets,
their false taste,
1.
PRETENDED, 297.
Proverbs,
copied from Chaucer,
127, 133.
PRYNNE, W.
specimen of his Histriomastix,
291.
Puritans,
censur'd by Spenser,
291.
Purple Island, of Fletcher,
account of,
236.
PYNED, 129.
Q.
QUEINT, 302.
QUEST, 267, 268.
Questyn beast,
mention'd in Morte Arthur, a Romance, the origin of Spenser's Blatant beast,
17, 18.
R.
RADEGUNDE, and her city,
copied from Ariosto,
157.
Rebellion, grand,
its consequences,
292.
RECREANT, 254.
REGIMENT, 308.
Revelations, book of,
Spenser copied from it,
224, 225, 226, 227.
condemn'd for it,
224, 227.
Rhyme,
the advantages found by Spenser in the frequent repetition of it,
83, 84.
he seldom makes the same word rhyme to itself,
87.
Romances, the FAERIE QUEENE
(and particularly its first book) form'd upon them,
13, 14.
fashionable in Q. Elizabeth's age, ibid. particular ceremony in them, copied by Spenser,
276.
ROMEO and JULIET,
much esteem'd when first acted,
42.
ROWLAND, W.
his satires,
42.
RUSTIE, 197, 198.
S.
Sails, for wings, 280, 281.
SANDEART,
mistaken concerning Hans Holbein,
231.
SCALIGEB,
censur'd for preferring the song of Orpheus in Apollonius to that in Val. Flaccus,
76.
prefers a comparison in Apollonius to one in Val. Flaccus,
68.
Scripture,
improperly imitated by Spenser,
279.
SCUDAMORE,
whence deriv'd,
276.
SED, for said, 86.
SENT, 207.
Seven Champions of Christendom, Romance of,
a circumstance in it, imitated by Spenser,
14.
Shepherd's Kalender,
title of a book printed by Wynkin à Worde,
91.
thence adopted by Spenser,
91, 92.
Shew, dumb, in Tragedy,
Spenser alludes to it,
221.
account of it,
221.
Shield, a miraculous one,
copied from Ariosto,
144, 145.
SHINE, 274, 275.
Squier's Tale,
Spenser's use of it,
110.
not unfinish'd,
110.
Milton's allusion to it explain'd,
112.
a complete copy of it probably seen by Lydgate,
113.
completed by John Lane,
113.
Squire of Dames, Tale of,
copied from Ariosto,
150. Squire of lo dedegree,
title of an old Romance,
275, 276.
SILIUS ITALICUS,
copies from Onomacritus,
79.
SKELTON,
his character,
234.
SKINNER,
his censure of Chaucer's language,
96.
SORT, 204, 205.
Spear, a miraculous one,
copied from Ariosto,
147, 148.
SPEGHT, editor of Chaucer,
vindicated,
140.
SPETT, 254.
Stanza, Spenser's,
why chosen by him,
81.
disagreeable to the nature of the English tongue,
81, 82.
productive of many absurdities,
82, 83.
and of some advantages,
83.
STIE, 200, 201.
STREMONA,
a name of a place no where found,
50.
SUGRED, 253.
Surprise, a fine one,
copied from Chaucer,
104, 105.
Swords, nam'd, 279.
SYLVANUS,
misrepresented,
49.
T.
TALUS, drawn from Talus, or Talos,
an antient guardian of Crete,
69, 70, 71, 72.
TANAQUIL, Queen Elizabeth, 39.
TANTALUS,
Spenser misrepresents Mythology concerning him,
56.
TASSO,
how far faulty,
2.
why Spenser chose rather to imitate Ariosto than him,
3.
Spenser copies a comparison from him,
65, 66.
Tautology,
instances of it in Spenser,
168, 169, 170.
Time,
sentiments concerning it, copied from Chaucer,
115.
TITYRUS,
Chaucer so call'd by Milton, from Spenser,
88.
THOPAS, Sir,
a poem of Chaucer, sung to the Harp in Q. Elizabeth's age,
36.
Tobacco,
why prais'd by Spenser,
266, 267.
Trees, description of,
copied by Spenser from Chaucer,
100, 101.
Chaucer's ridicule of such a description in Statius,
102, 103.
Spenser has avoided the faults of Statius, and others, in his description,
101, 102.
TRISSINO,
vindicated,
2.
TRISTRAM, Sir,
his birth and education, drawn from a Romance call'd Morte Arthur,
15.
V.
VALERIUS FLACCUS,
finely describes the distress of Hercules, and rape of Hylas,
67.
VENUS,
of both sexes,
68.
Virelayes,
account of,
269, 270.
VIRGIL,
copied by Spenser,
244, 253, 256, 267, 287.
Visions of Pierce Plowman,
account of them,
89, 90, 91.
style of them imitated by Spenser,
89.
U.
Unity,
of action, wanted in the
FAERIE QUEENE, 4.
UPTON, Mr.
suppos'd to have mistaken a passage in Spenser,
73.
in Chaucer,
132, 133, 245.
W.
WALLER,
imitates Daniel,
271, 272.
WENCH, 253.
Witches,
why well describ'd by Spenser,
267.
Whole,
necessary to the heroic poem,
7.
how violated by Spenser,
8.
Winchester, Marchioness of,
her death celebrated by Milton and Johnson,
165, 166.
Woman,
praise of, copied from Ariosto,
148, 149.
Wound,
copied from Chaucer,
109, 110.