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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.

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  • 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.

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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.

[1]

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 [2] 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 [3] 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.

[4] *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 [5] 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 [6] 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." 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. *

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 [7] ſeveral incidents are proper, as they tend either to obſtruct or promote it."* 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 [8] 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.

[9]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: [10] which being undertaken by twelve ſeveral knights, are, in theſe twelve books, ſeverally handled and diſcourſed.*"’ 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.—

[11] 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, [12] 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 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. *

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 [13] 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 [14] 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.*

[15]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*. 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. [16] 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 [17] 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*."’ 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.**"’

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." Spenſer has made him a much [18] 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.

[19]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 [20] head and beard."* After this paſſage we have an 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.—* *

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.(†)

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.

[21]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.*

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 [22] 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 * in a little narrative called the ‘"Princely Pleaſures of Kenelworth Caſtle,"’ gives us ſome of the above-mention'd metre, written by Ferrers, [23] 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, [24] in that eclogue*. 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
[25]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 [26] there for him, that he came never out, for all the craft that he could doe."*

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:

[27]
Had I compil'd from Amadis de Gaule,
Th'Eſplandians, ARTHURS, Palmerins, &c.(†)

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 * 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.

Theſe are Sir Lancelot (or Sir Meliot) of Logris; Sir Triſtram of Lyones, and king Pellenore, who are [28] 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.(†)

To which we may ſubjoin,

—What reſounds
In fable, or romance, of Uther's ſon,
Begirt with Britiſh, and Armoric knights.*

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
[29] Di ſatisfare a lei, che gliel ſuaſe,
Giace la carne ſua, dove egli vago
Vivo corcoſſi, e morto ci rimaſe. *

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.

XXXV.
—Theſe whoſe names appear
In marble pure, did never live as yet,
[30]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.(†)

Afterwards, in b. 32. Triſtram makes a great figure. From this romance is alſo borrow'd Arioſto's tale* 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." 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 [31] 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.
[32]
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.
[33]
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.
[34]
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,
[35]"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;
[36]"He was as whole as any man,
"And ever as freſh as when he began.*

[37]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.

[38]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,* that our Elfes and [39] 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 [40] 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.

[41]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.*

Thus Spenſer follow'd the popular tradition in ſuppoſing his FAERIE QUEENE to exiſt in the age of [42] 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 [43] 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."*

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.

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 [44] 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 [45] 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.

[...]
[...].*

[46]
—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,

[...].

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 [47] 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 * 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.

[48] 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. *

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, [49] 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 [50] 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. *

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.

[51] 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.

[52] 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.

[...].*

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.

[...].—

Nox pernicioſa poſt illam fraudem peperit.

Spenſer gives Night a chariot, for which he has the authority of many antient poets. Theocritus,

[...]
[...].(†)

Virgil,

Jam bigis ſubvecta polum nox atra tenebat. (*)

Apollonius mentions the horſes of Night,

[...].—* *

[53] As does Tibullus,

Ludite, jam nox jungit Equos.

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. *

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,

[54]
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. *

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.
[55]
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.*

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 [56] 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,
[57]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.
[58]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.*"’ That the firſt Genius here mention'd was likewiſe called Agdiſtes, we learn from the ſame author. ‘"Quem poſtea Agdiſtem appellarunt."(†)

[59]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.*

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.
[60] [...], &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 [61] 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.

[...]
[...]
[...].
[...],
[...]
[...],
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...],
[...].—*

Praecipuè autem inter alias omnes Gortynida amaſti Nympham,
Cervarum Venatricem, Britomartin, Jaculatricem; cujus olim Minos
[62] 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."* 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.

[63]
Quam ſimul Ogygii Phoenicis Filia Charme. *

And ends at,

Deſpue ter Virgo, numero deus impare gaudet.

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. [...] [64] [...].(*) ‘"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."* 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.—

[65] 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,
[66] Ne l' IRIDE ſi bella indora, e inoſtra
Il curvo grembo, e rugiadoſo al lume. *

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.

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.(†)
B. iii. C. xii. S. vii.
And every wood and every valley wide
He fill'd with Hylas name; the nymphes eke Hylas cride.

[67]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. * 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 [68] 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. * 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.

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:
[69]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. [...] [70] [...]. 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.

[...]
[...]
[...]
[...].*

Sed is cum caetero corpore & membris eſſet
Aeneus, & invulnerabilis, tamen ſub tenonte habebat
[71] 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.

[...].

Ter in anno Cretam aeneis obeuntem pedibus.

Apollodorus will further illuſtrate this matter. [...].* 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,

[72]
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.(†)

Orpheus (or rather *Onomacritus) calls TALUS, in his Argonautics,

[...].—

‘"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.

[73]
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.

[74]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."* 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.

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.

[75] 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.*

[76] Which, as the learned Dr. Newton and others obſerve, is copied from theſe verſes of Apollonius,

[...]
[...].

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.* Orpheus begins his [77] ſong with the creation of things; after mentioning the ſun and moon, mountains and rivers, he ſpeaks of the creation of ſerpents.

[...]
[...].

Quemadmodum exorti ſint Montes, & reſonantes fluvii
Cum ipſis Nymphis, & quomodo omnia reptilia concreverint.

[78] 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 [79] 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.—*

The circumſtance of the hair hanging like bunches of grapes, has been juſtly admired; but it is literally [80] tranſlated, from this deſcription of Apollo's hair, in the Greek poet.

[...]
[...].*

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,

[...].—

Tartari Filia Hecate.

[81] 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 * 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 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 [82] this ſtanza requires; a circumſtance not difficult in the Italian, which deals largely in identical cadences. 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, [83] 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
[84]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,
[85]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 * 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 [86] 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." 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 [87] 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 * of obſolete phraſes and words, yet it may be affirm'd, that [88] 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.

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.

[89] He even ſeems, in the Paſtorals, to have attempted an imitation of the viſions * of Pierce Plowman; [90] for after exhorting his muſe not to contend with Chaucer, he adds,

Nor with the Plowman that the pilgrim playde awhile.

[91] 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 [92] 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, ‘"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 [93] 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.*

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." A learned gentleman one [94] 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.*

[95]Our author's diſapprobation of this practice may be made to appear more fully from his own words, [96] 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.

But tho' Spenſer diſapprov'd of this corrupt adulteration of ſtyle, ſo faſhionable in is age, yet we find [97] him notwithſtanding, frequently introducing words from a foreign tongue ſuch, as, viſnomie, amenance, [98] 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."* The ground-work [99] 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."

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 [100] 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.

*Ovid, Seneca, (*)Lucan, (†)Statius, and ††Claudian, have all left us a deſcription of trees; [101] 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.

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.*

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 [102] 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.
[103]Ne how the groun agaſt was of the light,
That was not wont to ſee the ſonne bright;
Ne how the fire, &c.

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.

[104]
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.*

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?

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.

[105]
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,
[106]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.*

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,
[107]There was eke every holeſome ſpice and gras,
Ne no man may there waxe ſicke ne olde.(†)

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 claſſics in his eye, cited by Mr. Jortin.*

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.

[108] 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.*

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.

[109]
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.*

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.

[110] Thus alſo Palamon ſpeaks, after he had ſeen Emely.

But I was hurt right now through mine eie
Into mine hert.—

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, * our poet thus introduces his ſtory of the battle of the three brethren for Canace; which he builds upon the following hint of Chaucer.

[111]
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 * 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.

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.(*)

It is no leſs amuſing to the imagination to bewilder itſelf in various conjectures concerning the expedients [112] 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.

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,*

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

[113]
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—

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.*

[114]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,
[115]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.

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.*

[116] 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.

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,
[117]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
[118]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.*

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.

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.

[119] Which is equally unwarrantable. Though Catullus has given him a yellow veſt.

Quam circumcurſans huc illuc ſaepe Cupido,
Fulgebat CROCINA candidus in tunica. *

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;
[120]Before him ſtant brawn of the tuſkid ſwine,
And (†) nowil ſingeth every luſtie man.††

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.

Again,

O cruil god of deth, diſpiteous MARTE.*

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.**

Again,

This Pandarus gan new his tong AFILE.(*)

[121] 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.

Full privily two harneis had he dight
Both ſufficient and mete to DARRAINE
The battail in the field, betwixt them twaine.*

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.

[122]
Everich of you ſhall bring an hundred knights
* * * * * * * * * *
Alredy to DARRAIN here by battaile.

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,

[123]
—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.*

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

And in the ſame poem.

With GLITTERANDE gold as grene as gall.(†)

[124] 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.

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.*

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.

[125] 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.—*

And made his ſword deep in his fleſh YBITE.

The jealous ſtrokes on their helmes BITE.(*)

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.(†)

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.

[126]
—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.

[127] And in this manner we find it uſed by Shakeſpere,

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter ſky,
Thou doſt not BITE SO NIGH
As benefits forgot.(†)

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.

B. ii. C. vi. S. xliii.
HARROW now out, and weal-away, he cryde:

So Chaucer,

And gan to cry HARROW and weal-away. *

HARO is a form of exclamation antiently uſed in Normandy, to call for help, or to raiſe the Hue and Cry.(*) 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.

[128] 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.

[129] Again,

Of CONTEKE, and of whelpis gret and light.

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.*

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.(*)

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,

[130]
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.*

And afterwards,

—As men may behold
In Stace of Thebes, and theſe bookes old.

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.(*)

B. iii. C. vii. S. lvii.
Becauſe I could not give her many a JANE.

So Chaucer.

[131]
Of Bruges were his hoſin broun,
His robe was of Chekelatoun,
That coſt many a JANE.(†)

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.*

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.

[132]
Her treſſes yellow, and long ſtraughten
Unto her heeles downe they raughten.*

And in the ſame poem,

Her haire downe to her heeles went.

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.(*)

Mr. (†) 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.

[133]
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.*

And in the ſame poem,

Hide Abſolon thy GILTE treſſis clere.

We have here gildid hair,

Diſchevilid with her bright GILDID here.(**)

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.(††)

Again,

The Monke put in the marchants hode an ape.(†)

[134]
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.

Alſo,

Loke what Daye that ENDLONG to Britaine
Ye remeve all the rockis ſtone by ſtone.(**)

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,

[135]
When it [Rome] was governed by the DOSEPERIS.††

And below,

Then Conſtantyne the third after theſe DOSIPERIS.*

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,

[136]
Men ſpeken of romances of pris,
Of Horne-child, and of Ipotis,
Of Bevis, and Sir Gie,
Of Sir Libeaux, and BLANDAMOURE.*

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.

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.—(†)

[137] So Chaucer,

Where ſo you liſt by Ordal, or by othe.*

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.

[138] That is, I do not affirm that ſhe had the greateſt ſhare of beauty.

The grete geftes alſo to the MOST and LESTE.*

Again,

From Boloigne is the erle of Pavie come,
Of which the fame yſpronge to MOST and LESTE.

Thus we have alſo MORE or LESS for greater and ſmaller.

—The goddeſſe
Both of the ſee, and rivers MORE and LESSE.(†)

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.(*)

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.

[139] He probably drew GIAMBEUX, i. e. boots, from this paſſage in the Rime of Sir Thopas.

His JAMBEUX were of cure buly.(†)

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.

Speght * 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 [140] 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 * 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 .’ 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, [141] 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 [142] 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 [143] 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.

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? *
Piu, &c. &c.

[144]
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.

[145]
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. *
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.

[146] 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. *

[147]
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.

[148]
La Lancia, che di quanti ne percote
Fà le ſelle reſtar ſubito vote. *

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
[149]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. *

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.

[150]
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. *

[151]
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,
[152]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. *

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 [153] 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*, 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."’ [154] 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.*

And in this crueltie he hath great ſport,
To uſe the ſervice of a certaine net.
Harrington.

[155]
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 [156] 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."* 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.

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.

[157]
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 [158] his ſimiles are likewiſe the ſtrongeſt indications of his turn for burleſque.*

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.

[159]

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.

[160]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,
[161]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.

[162] 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, [163] 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.

[164]
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. [165] 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.*

[166]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
[167]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.

[168]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,
[169]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.

[170] 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.

[171]
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 [172] 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 [173] 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,

has copied from himſelf, in one of his latin epigrams.*

[174]
At mihi major erit, qui lurida creditur arma,
Et trifidum fulmen ſurripuiſſe Jovi. *

[175] Chaucer in his account of the battle of Anthony and Cleopatra with Octavius, mentions guns.

With griſly ſoune, outgoith the grete gonne.*

B. vi. C. ii. S. v.
All in a woodman's jackett he was clad
Of Lincolne greene.—

[176] 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. [177] To theſe may be added ſome of his ambiguities.

B. i. C. vii. S. xlvi.
Bred in the loathly lakes of Tartary.

[178]The poet ſhould not have us'd Tartary here for Tartarus, as the reader might miſtake it for the [179] 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.*

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.

[180]

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.* 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 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 [181] for THEFTS?* 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
[182]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.

[183]
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.

[184] 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. (*)

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 PAGEANTS preſerv'd by E. K.*

An hundred graces on her eye-lids ſate.

[185] Which he drew from a modern Greek poem aſcrib'd to Muſaeus,

[...]
[...]
[...].*

In the Hymn of heavenly love we find a thouſand graces.

[186]
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.

[...],*

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,
[187]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.

[188]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.

[189] 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.(†)

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. *

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.

B. iii. C. vii. S. xvi. Of the witches ſon, who falls in love with Florimel.

Oft from the forreſt wildings he did bring,
[190]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.

[191]
—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.

[192]
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.
[193]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 [194] 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;
[195]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.

[196]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.—*

B. i. C. ii. S. xliii.
—In this MISFORMED howſe.

[197]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*, 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.

[198]
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.

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—

[199] 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(*), and the 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.**
Therewith my ſoul was ſharpely GRIDE.††

—A ſerpent—
With brandiſht tongue the emptie ayre did GRIDE.*

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.

[200]
The GRIDING ſword with diſcontinuous wound
Paſs'd through him.—(†)
6. 329.

B. ii. C. iii. S. xxv.
That was ambition, raſh deſire to STIE.

(*) 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.*
Whilſt in the ſmoke ſhe unto heaven did STIE.
With bolder wing ſhall dare aloft to STY
To the laſt praiſes of the Faerie Queene.(†)

** This word occurs in Chaucer's Teſtament of Love. ‘"Ne ſteyrs to STEY one is none."(†) Where it is [201] 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.—**

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.

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.—

[202] 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. *

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.

[203]
—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.*

That is, with nimble or ready wings.

[204]
Alſo theſe wickid tonguis ben ſo PREST
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.*

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.

[205]
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." 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 [206] 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.

[207]

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.*

—the SENT
Of that alluring fruit.

—ſuch a SENT I drew
Of carnage.—**

—With SENT of living carcaſſes.††

[208] 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?* 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.

[209] 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 [210] 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 [211] 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,
[212]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. * 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 [213] 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. ††
Yes, anſwer'd Guidon, be I made or mard. *
Ten years will hardly make that he would marr.

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?**

Again, in an old bombaſt play ridicul'd by Shakeſpere, ‘"And make and marre the fooliſh fates."(*)

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.

[214] That is, Q. Elizabeth, whom in another place he calls,* a PEERLESSE POETESSE. Again,

And hath he ſkill to MAKE ſo excellent,
Yet hath ſo little ſkill to bridle Love?††

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."

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.

[215]
She threw away her rings, and carknet CLEENE.**

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 [216] the ſame Latin metaphor; I ſuppoſe the paſſage hinted at by Mr. Upton is, where, Satan

—SHAVES with level wings the deep.

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.

[217] So Milton, of Michael's ſword.

—Deep-entring SHAR'D
All his right ſide*.—

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; 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 [218] 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 * deſcription of the SHEW OF MANHOOD AND DESERT exhibited at Norwich, before queen Elizabeth; and more particularly to his account of a 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.

[219]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 * under the actions of men and [220] 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.

[221] And in his introduction to this groupe, it is manifeſt that he drew from another allegoric ſpectacle of age, called the DUMB SHEW*, 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.
[222]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*

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; I ſhall mention one capital fault committed by the poet in this point, which does not immediately fall under the rules of criticiſm.

[223] ‘"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 [224] 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.*"’ 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 triple crown [225] 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*."’ 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."’

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 [226] 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*?"’

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".’ 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**. Thus alſo by the ſteps and expedients [227] 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 * chronicle of Robert of Gloceſter, who wrote according to his own account about the year 1280. And hence we may obſerve, [228] 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 [229] Thebes, might more properly be ſtyled a legendary than allegorical poet; although the firſt of theſe, is in great meaſure, a ſeries of viſions*, 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.

We have of this author two poems, viz. the ** TEMPLE of GLASS, and the DANCE of DEATH, [230] or dance of MACHABREE,* which are both profeſſedly written in the ſpecies of which I am at [231] preſent ſpeaking. Lidgate has received numberleſs encomiums from our old Engliſh poets, to which [232] 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 [233] 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*. 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, [234] 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 [235] 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 * 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, [236] 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 * 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.

Allegory notwithſtanding abruptly diſcover'd itſelf once more with ſomewhat of it native ſplendor in the * PURPLE ISLAND of Fletcher, with whom it almoſt as ſoon diſappear'd; when a poetry ſucceeded in [237] 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* 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.

[238]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 [239] our attention thro' the whole performance. We may therefore apply the words of Lactantius upon this occaſion.* 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,

[240]
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.*

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.

[241]
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.

[242] Spenſer, as Mr. Jortin obſerves, plainly alluded to this text in the Pſalms,* ‘"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.

[243] 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,
[244]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.*

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.

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.

[245]
Betwixt an Hulfere, and a wode bende
As I was ware, I ſawe where laie a man.*

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.

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,
[246]Engendred by the vapor-breeding ſlime,
And in the middle region there EMBOWD.*

Gaſcoigne in Jocaſta, a tragedy, applies EMBOWD to a roof.

The gilted roofes EMBOWD with curious worke.

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,(†)

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.

[247] 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.*

B. ii. C. i. S. liii.
The woods the nymphes, the bowres my midwives were,
Hard help at need.—

[248]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." 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."*

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.

[249]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. [250] 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.
[...].*

Hic geminos vidit juvenes quidam
Paſtor noſtrum, & receſſit retro
Summis [pedum] relegens veſtigium,
Et dixit, non videtis? Daemones quidam
[251] 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.

Delos (in Homer's hymn to Apollo) tells Latona, that he is unwilling that Apollo ſhould be born in his iſland,

[...],
[...],
[...].
[...]
[252] [...],
[...].
[...]
[...].

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.—*

Noah is introduc'd by Caſimir, thus deſcribing the effects of the Flood.

Aut ubi turrigerae potentum
Arces Gigantum? queis modo liberi
[253] Feſto choreas agmine plauſimus,
Delphines inſultant plateis,
Et vacuas ſpacioſa cete
Ludunt per aulas, ac thalamus pigrae
Preſſere Phocae.

B. ii. C. v. S. vi.
—The upper marge
Of his ſeven-folded ſhield.—

This ſeems to be Virgil's,

Clypei extremos ſeptemplicis orbes. *

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.

[254] And in the Houſe of Fame, wench is coupled with groom,

Lord, and Ladie, grome, and WENCH.*

B. ii. C. vi. S. viii.
—One ſweet drop of ſenſuall delight.

Lucretius has given us this metaphor.

Dulcedinis in cor
Stillavit Gutta.—

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."(†)

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.

[255] And Drayton, in the barons wars, of an exhalation

—SPETTETH his lightening forth,

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* in his deſcription of Satan under the form of a ſtripling-cherub, has highly improv'd upon Spenſer's angel, and Taſſo's Gabriel, both which he ſeems to have had in his eye. And in his Raphael.** 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. [256] 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. *

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.

[257]
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.

[...],
[...]
[...].
[...]
[...].—

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.

[258]
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 * 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.

[259]
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.

[260] 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,*

[...]

Be red like mere proſe, without any certain pauſe, or diviſion? and this verſe of Anacreon,

[261]
[...]

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."*

[262]
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 [263] pulvere. We find the ſubſtantive POWDER generally ſpelt thus in old authors.

Thus B. Johnſon,

And of the POULDER-plot they will talk yet.*

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,††

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.

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.(*)

Thus alſo Chaucer,

Full gay was all the ground, and queint,
And POWDRED as men had it peint.(†)
[264]The grounde was grene, YPOUDRED with daiſye.*

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.

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.(*)

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."(†)

[265]
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,*

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 [266] which artifice, Uther enjoy'd Iogerne, and begot king Arthur. 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 * 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.

[267]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. *

B. iii. C. vii. S. lii.
Her well beſeemes that QUEST.—

[268]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, * VIRELAYES, and verſes vaine.

[269]Virelayes are often mention'd by Chaucer, and our old poets. G. Gaſcoigne, in his Defence of rhyme, gives [270] 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.

[271]
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. *

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.—

Daniel here alludes to a circumſtance related of Nero; and Waller ſeems to have imitated Daniel's application of it.

[272]
Thus Nero with his harp in hand ſurvey'd
His burning Rome, and as it burnt he play'd.*

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.

[273]
But I God's counſel have not kept, his holy ſecret
Preſumptuouſly have publiſh'd, &c.*

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.

[274] 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."

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.*

[275] And in our tranſlation of the pſalms, ‘"His lightenings gave SHINE unto the world."

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.*

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.

[276] 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 [277] 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,

[278]
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
[279] Frondiferum nemus adſiſtens, & crebra reviſit
Ad ſtabulum, deſiderio perfixa juvenci. *

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.

[280]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.*

[281] 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.

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.* 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;
[282] Aurea cui poſtquam nudavit caſſida frontem,
Vicit victorem candida forma virum.

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.*

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 [283] 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.*

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.

[284]
—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.

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.**

It occurrs likewiſe in Harrington's Arioſto.

For myters, ſtates, nor crownes may not exclude
Popes, mightie KYNGS, nor KEYSARS from the ſame,††

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 [285] our author, and the old poets. Alſo by Milton in Comus,

By dimpled brook, and fountain-BRIM.*

FOUNTAIN-brim ſeems to have been a common preſſion. It is us'd by Drayton,

—Sporting with Hebe by a fountain-BRIM.

And in Warner's Albion's England,

As this ſame fond ſelfe-pleaſing youth ſtood at a FOUNTAYNE-BRIM.**

We have ocean-BRIM in the Paradiſe-loſt,

With wheels yet hovering o'er the OCEAN-BRIM.††

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 [286] 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.

[287]
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,* ‘"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.

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.**

[288]
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.*

B. vi. C. viii. S. xxi.
And ſitting careleſſe on the Scorner's ſtoole.

[289] 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.

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 [290] diſcet, quantam ubique peſtem ingerat LINGUA CALUMNIATRIX."*

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.

[291]
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 [292] 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 [293] 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 [294] 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.

B. v. C. vii. S. xxxiv.
The wicked ſhaft guided thro' th' ayrie WIDE.

Ayrie WIDE ſeems to be us'd for ayrie VOID. [295] 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 [296] of an inſtance related by Olaus Magnus,* 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.

[297]
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.*

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.—

[298]
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 * 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.

[299]
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.—

[300]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,

[301]
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.—

[302] 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.

[303]
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,
[304]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 * 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 [305] 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."* 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.

[306]
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,*

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.

[307] 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. *

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.

[308]Afterwards 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.—*

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
[309]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.* 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 [310] 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 [311] frequently diſplayed without palliation;* 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.

Appendix A INDEX.

[312]

[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.
  • [313]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.
  • [314]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.
  • [315]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,
  • [316]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.
  • [317]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.
  • [318]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.
  • [319]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.
  • [320]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.
  • [321]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.
  • [322]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.
Notes
*
See Spenſer's letter to Sir W. Raleigh, &c.
Dedication to Juvenal.
*
Aen. vi. ver. 727.
*
Remarks on the Fairy Queen. Hughes's edit. of Spenſer's works, vol. 1.
*
Letter to Sir W. Raleigh. It appears, from this quotation, that Spenſer had finiſhed but three books, when this letter was written.
Hor. art poet. v. 13.
Reflexions, &c. c. 34.
*
C. i. S. 1.
*
See Hollingſhead's Chronicles, vol. iii. p. 1315.
*
This Book has been reprinted twice or thrice. The laſt Edition is dated 1634.
Book ii. chap. i.
*
Book ii. chap. 3.
**
B. ii. c. 91.
B. ii. c. 53.
*
B. 1. c. 24.
This is alſo printed in P. Enderbury's CAMBRIA TRIUMPHANS, p. 197.
* *
Song 4.
(†)
Orig. & Geſt. Reg. Brit. B. 10, 13.
*
Aprill.
*
Works, London, 1576.
*
Spenſer's paſtorals were publiſhed about four years after this entertainment.
*
B. i. c. 60.
(†)
An execration upon Vulcan, in the Underwood.
*
REMAINS, printed 1604. Artic. names.
Par. Reg. B. ii, v. 359.
(†)
MANSUS.
*
Parad. Loſt, 1. v. 579.
*
C. 3. 10.
C. 26. 39.
(†)
C. 4. S. 52.
*
C. 42. 98.
B. 2. c, 34.
*

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.

*
Eclogue, June.
*
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.

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.

*
Supplement to the tranſlator's preface, before Jarvis's Don Quixote.
Fall of Princes. B. 8. Ch. 24.
*
Oreſtes, v. 37.
Ibid. v. 480.
*
Met. ii. v. 760.
*
Aen. vii.v.346.
*
Georg. i.v.20.
*
Theog. 123.
Ibid. 224.
(†)
Aen. 5, 721.
(*)
[...] b. 3.
* *
Idyll. 2. 165.
2. 1.
*
In Quintum Novembris, v. 151.
*
Ibid. v.148.
*
Cant. 7. St. 69, 71.
*
4. 3.
(†)
ibid.
*
Epiſt. 2. B. 2. v. 143.
*
[...] v. 189.
*
Polſtyhi. C. 17.
*
Ver. 223.
Ver. 373.
(*)
Apud Idyll. 3. v. 48.
*
Metam. b. 6.
Hymne of love.
*
Gier. Lib. B. 16. S. 24.
Muipotmos.
(†)
Leg. of G. Wom. v.236.
*
Polyhiſt. cap. 44.
*
Poet. B. 5. C. 6.
Aen. 2. v. 632.
In Minoe. Plat. Op. Edit. Serran. pag. 320. vol. 1.
*
[...]. B. 4. v. 1645.
Ibid. v. 1646.
*
Bibliothec. b. 1. c. 26.
(†)
Car. 56.
*
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.
[...]. v. 1348.
*
2. 8.
Ibid.
*
Par. L. B. 10. v. 580.
[...]. B. 1. v. 496.
*

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.
Ibid. 501.
*
P. L. 4. 301.
*
[...]. B. 2. v. 678.
[...]. v. 975.
*
See REMARKS ON SPENSER'S POEMS.
Chaucer's Stanza is not STRICTLY ſo.
I am obliged to the admirable author of the Rambler for this obſervation.
*
The author of the Arte of Engliſh poeſie.
B. 2. c. 8.
*
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.
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.
*

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,"’

Epilogue to SHEP. KAL.
Ibid.
*
Proem. B. 2.
Remains. Artic. Languages.
*

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.".’

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.
*
Diſcoveries.
Ibid.
*
Met. 10. 90,
Oedip. 532.
(*)
3. 440.
(†)
Theb. 6. 98.
††
R. Proſerp. 2. 107. The paſſages are alleged by Mr. Jortin, remarks on Spenſer's poems, p. 4, 5.
The aſſemble of fowles, v. 176.
*
V. 66.
Knight's tale, v. 2922.
*
Squire's tale. v. 83.
The man of lawe's tale. v. 704.
*
Squier's tale. v. 96.
(†)
V. 204.
Claudian. N. Hon. & Mar. v. 51. Lucret. 3. v. 18. Hom. Odyſſ. 6. v. 42. Sidon. Car. 2. v. 407.
*
Remarks, p. 74, 75.
*
Squier's tale, v. 153.
*
Rom. of Roſc. v. 1723.
Ibid. v. 1778.
Knight's tale, v, 1098.
*
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.
*
Ubi ſupra, p. 10.
Squier's tale, v. 674.
(*)
ibid. v. 681.
Il. Pens. v. 109.
*
Ibid. v. 105.
Ibid. v. 111.
*

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.

Februarie.
*
Of Q. Annelid. & falſe Arcite. v. 10.
Houſe of Fame. v. 133.
*
Aſſemble of fowles. v. 298.
Romaunt of the Roſe. v. 890.
*
Ad Manlium.
(†)
i. e. Chriſtmaſs.
††
Frankelein's tale. v. 2808.
Tr. and Cr. B. 2. v. 988.
*
Ibid. B. 2. v. 435.
**
Prol. 713.
(*)
Tr. and Cr. B. 1. v. 1681.
Knight's tale, v. 2098.
*
Ibid. v. 1632.
Ibid. 1853.
*
Third Part of Hen. VI. Act 2. S. 3.
V. 2073.
(†)
V. 2103.
July.
*
Rom. Roſe. v. 1061.
*
Knight's tale. 2548.
Ibid. 2642.
(*)
Ibid. 2636.
(†)
Rom. Roſe. v. 7319.
(†)
As You Like it. Act. 2. 8. 10.
Nonne's Prieſt's Tale. 1355.
*
Reve's Tale. 964.
(*)
Gloſſary to Urry's edit.
V. 2006.
Nonne's Prieſt's tale. v. 10047.
*
September.
(*)
Prolog. v. 205.
*
Knight's tale. v. 1466.
Ibid. 2295.
(*)
Rime of Sir Thopas. v. 3315.
(†)
Rime of Sir Thopas, v. 3242.
*
Cl. of Oxenford's tale. v. 2020.
*
Rom. Roſe, v. 1021.
Ibid. 1218.
(*)
Aſſemble of Fowles, v. 267.
(†)
Letter to G. Weſt, Eſq p. 35.
*
Leg. of G. Women, v. 230.
Ibid. v. 249.
(**)
Ibid. v. 390.
(††)
Hoſt's words, chan. Y. v. 1510.
(†)
Hoſt's words, ſhip. 2948.
Squire's Tale, v. 435.
(**)
Fran. Tale, v. 2538.
††
V. 44.
*
v. 51.
*
R. of Sir Thopas. v. 3402.
Ibid. v. 3408.
(†)
Tr. and Cr. B. 3. v. 1048.
*
Tr. and Cr. B. 3. v. 1048.
Monk. Tale. 367.
*
Knight's tale. v. 2200.
Frank. tale. v. 2600.
(†)
Cl. of Ox. tale. 1900.
(*)
Prol. 494.
(†)
V. 3380.
V. 3243.
*
Gloſſary to Chaucer.
*
‘"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.
Linguarum Vett. Septentrional. Theſaurus. cap. 12. pag. 58.
C. 2. S. 12.
*
C. 12. S. 15.
C. 2. S. 55.
*
C. 15. S. 15.
*
C. 7. S. 53.
*
C. 23. S. 15.
*
S. 2.
*
C. 26. S. 28.
*
C. 1. S. 78.
*
B. 1. C. 111.
*
C. 15. S. 44. &c.
*
Revel. c. 13. v. 1, 2, &c.
C. 11. S. 65.
*
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.
*

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.
Par. L. 6. 490.
*

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.
*
In Inventorem Bombardae.
*
Leg. of Cleopatra, v. 58:
*
Par. Loſt, 10. 313.
*
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.’
See, A DISCOURSE on POETICAL IMITATION.
*
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.
(*)
C. 12. S. ult.

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.

*
Notes on JUNE.
*
V. 63.
*
V. 99. & ſeq.
(†)
Comus, v. 848.
*
Epithalam. Sylv. B. 1, 2. v. 19.
Com. Earin. Sylv. B. 3. 4. v. 82.
*
Par. Loſt, 5. v. 295.
*
Remarks, pag. 69.
Prolog. v. 620.
(*)
Paſſim.
Epilogue to the Aeglogues.
**
Februarie.
††
Auguſt.
*
Virg. Gnat.
(†)
Par. Loſt, 6. 329.
(*)
To the earl of Eſſex.
*
Muipotmos.
V. of Bellay. St. 11.
(†)
Par. Loſt, 6. 329.
**
P. 480, Urry's edit.
(†)
Par. Loſt, 6. 329.
**
John Gower unto the noble K. Henry IV. v. 177.
December.
*
Aen. 11. v. 232.
*
Troil. and Cr. 4. v. 661.
Ibid. 9. v. 785.
*
Aſſemble of fowles.
Pſal. 62. 3.
*
9. 200.
9. 587.
**
10. 267.
††
10. 277.
*
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."’
*
Par. Loſt, 1. v. 63.
††
5. 19.
*
20. 52.
30. 9.
**
3. c. 19.
(*)
Midn. Dr. 1. 4.
*
Colin Clout, &c.
††
Aprill.
Apology for Poeſie, before Arioſto.
**
Notes on B. 37. of Orl. Fur.
Par. Loſt, 2. B. 34.
*
Par. Loſt, 6. 326.
Sect. ii.
*
‘"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.

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.

*
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.
*
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.
*
Hor. Art. Poet. 182.
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?
*
Abbe du Bos, Reflexions, &c. Tom. i. c. xxiv.
By the triple crown he plainly glances at popery.
*
C. 12. V. 3, 4.
C. 17. V. 3, 4.
*
C. 6. V. 9, 10.
C. 22. V. 1, 2.
**
Sect. ii.
*
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."’
*
The book on which it is founded, viz. Boccace de CASIBUS VIRORUM ILLUSTRIUM, is a plain hiſtorical narrative.
The firſt part, Speght's Chaucer, edit. 2. fol. 357.
**
This was never printed.
*

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.
*
Faſt. Oxon.
*

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.

*
See Donne's works, and Davies on the IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL; Lord Brooke's TREATISE OF HUMAN LEARNING, &c. &c.
Mr. Maſon's MUSAEUS.
*
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.
*
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.
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.
*
Reflexions, Tom. 1. C. 25.
*
To my moſt dearely loved friend, Henry Reinolds, of poets and poeſie.
*
Pſal. 19. 5.
*
Aen. 12. v. 940.
Prol. 157.
*
Black Kn. 129.
Speght's edit. fol. 234.
*
32. 93.
Act. 1. S. 2.
(†)
IL. PENS.
*
Sect. ii.
Pſal. 51. v. 14.
*
Pſal. 39. v. 12.
*
V. 264.
Par. Loſt, 11. 829.
*
Ibid. 749.
Aen. 12. 925.
*
Lyricor. B. 4. Od. 27.
March. Tale. 1719.
*
V. 206.
4. 1054.
(†)
1. 21.
B. 2. St. 35.
*
Par. Loſt, 3. 636.
Ibid. 5. 276,
**
C. 1. S. 13.
*
Aen. 11. v. 610.
[...]. B. 3. 1364.
*
Remarks, pag. 77.
*
Elect. v. 518.
Od. 1. v. 1.
*
Inſtit. Orat. l. 1. c. 8.
*
Epig. 92.
††
St. 6.
19. 53.
(*)
43. 148.
(†)
Rom. R. v. 115.
*
Cuckow and Night. v. 63.
Aſſ. L. 526.
(*)
Par. Loſt, 7. 579.
(†)
Act. 4. v. 296.
*
Epitaph. Damonis, 166.
B. 8. c. 19.
*
Leland de Script. Brit. cap. 2.
*
Aen. 1. v. 228.
*

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.

*
Aen. 2. 571.
44.
*
On my L. Iſabella playing on the lute.
*
V. 497.
Pſ. 108. v. 18.
*
37. 15.
Pſ. 97. v. 4.
*
Par. Loſt, 7. 457.
*
2. 355.
*
Purple Iſland, C. 12. S. 59.
C. 33. S. 84.
*
Par. Loſt, 287.
3. 10.
*
6. 396.
*
Prol. 753.
Paſſus 16.
**
A tale of a tub. A. 2. S. 2.
††
C. 44. S. 47.
*
V. 119.
Bar. W. 6. 36.
**
B. 9. 46.
††
5. 140.
*
1 Ep. 13. 12.
Aen. 11. 149.
**
11. 54.
*
Aſſ. F.
Ball. Lady, v. 133.
*
Baſiliae, apud Froben. 1526. pag. 220.
B. 1. El. 6.
October.
*
B. 3. C. 20.
*
Son. 23.
Par. Loſt, 10. 872.
*

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.

*
‘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.
*
Ling. Vet. Sept. Theſ, cap. 23. pag. 193.
Par. Loſt, 10. 572.
*
Not in the poem prefix'd, but in the Book itſelf, pag. 487. edit. 1660.
Par. Loſt, 1. 201.
*
C. 6. S. 37.
St. 41.
*
Par. Loſt, 7. 413.
*
Stow's Survey of London, pag. 357. edit. 1633.
*
See more particularly Sect. 1.
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Zitationsvorschlag für dieses Objekt
TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 5112 Observations on the Faerie Queene of Spenser By Thomas Warton. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-57DB-C