Chapter XI: Part I (6)

This is a selection from Spenser's great poem, "The Faerie Queene," being a part of the seventh canto of book second. "The Faerie Queene" was published in 1590, and comprises six books of twelve cantos each. The first book is the Legend of the Red Cross Knight, or Holiness; the second, of Sir Guyon, or Temperance; the third, of Britomartis, or Chastity; the fourth, of Cambel and Triamond, or Friendship; the fifth, of Artegall, or Justice; the sixth, of Sir Calidore, or Courtesy. It was Spenser's design that the complete work should contain twelve books, but of the remaining part only a fragment of one book, the "Legend of Constance," is in existence.

The versification of the "Faerie Queene" is based upon the _ottava rima_, made so popular in Italian poetry by Tasso and Ariosto. Instead of eight lines to a stanza, however, there are nine. The first eight lines are iambic pentameters, and the ninth a hexameter, the stanza thus closing with a lingering cadence which adds greatly to the melody of the verse. This is the "Spenserian stanza," a form of versification very popular with many of our later poets.

"If you love poetry well enough to enjoy it for its own sake," says Leigh Hunt, "let no evil reports of his _allegory_ deter you from an acquaintance with Spenser, for great will be your loss. His allegory itself is but one part allegory and nine parts beauty and enjoyment; sometimes an excess of flesh and blood. His wholesale poetical belief, mixing up all creeds and mythologies, but with less violence, resembles that of Dante and Boccaccio. His versification is almost perpetual honey."

1. =delve.= Dell. From A.-S. _delfan_, delve, to dig. Each canto of the "Faerie Queene" is introduced by a four-line doggerel like this, containing the argument, or a brief summary of the narrative,--in imitation, probably, of Ariosto's "Orlando Furioso."

2. =hore.= Sordid, miserly. Probably from A.-S. _harian_, to become mouldy or musty. The word _hoard_ may be traced to a similar root.

3. =stedfast starre.= The pole-star. See "Faerie Queene," I, ii, 1:

"By this the northerne wagoner had set
His sevenfold teme behind the stedfast starre
That was in ocean waves yet never wet,
But firme is fixt, and sendeth light from farre
To all that in the wide deepe wandring arre."

4. =yblent.= Blinded.

5. =dreriment.= Darkness.

6. =firmes.= Fixes, makes firm.

7. =yode.= Went. The past participle of the old verb _yede_, from A.-S. _gangead_, to go, to proceed.

8. =reedes.= Considers. From A.-S. _ræd_, counsel, advice; O. E. _rede_.

9. =salvage.= Savage, wild. Fr. _sauvage_. From Lat. _silva_, forest. See "Faerie Queene," IV, v, 19:

"For all his armour was like salvage weed
With woody mosse bedight, and all his steed
With oaken leaves attrapt, that seemed fit
For salvage wight, and thereto well agreed
His word, which on his ragged shield was writ,
_Salvagesse sans finesse_,[233:1] shewing secret wit."

=wight.= Person. From A.-S. _wiht_.

"For every wight that loved chevalrie."
--_Chaucer_, _Canterbury Tales_, 2105.

=griesly.= Dreadful. From A.-S. _grislic_; _agrisan_, to dread. Grisly.

10. =bedight.= Covered. From _dight_, to dress, to deck. A.-S. _dihtan_.

11. =fire-spitting.= "_Spett_ seems anciently to have more simply signified _disperse_, without the low idea which we at present affix to it."--_Warton._

12. =entayle.= Sculpture, carving. Compare _intaglio_.

13. =antickes.= Odd, or fantastic, forms. From Lat, _antiquus_, ancient.

14. =of Mulcibers devouring element.= By fire. Mulciber is a surname of Vulcan, "which seems to have been given him as an euphemism, that he might not consume the habitations and property of men, but kindly aid them in their pursuits."

15. =withouten moniment.= Without superscription.

16. =swinck.= Labor, drudge. A.-S. _swincan_, to toil.

17. =sew.= Follow. From Fr. _suivre_.

=deigne.= From Fr. _daigner_, to consider worthy. Opposed to _disdain_.

18. =Me ill besits.= It ill becomes me.

=derdoing.= Dare-doing; doing daring deeds.

19. =worldly mucke.= "Filthy lucre."

20. =spright.= Spirit.

21. =weet.= Understand. From A.-S. _witan_, to know.

22. =fond.= Foolish.

23. =empeach.= Hinder. Fr. _empêcher_.

24. =accloyes.= Chokes or clogs up. Observe how the poet carries out his metaphor of the "well-head," "the purest streames," "his braunching armes," and "the gentle wave."

25. =unreproved truth.= Sincerity.

26. =great Grandmother.= Mother Earth.

27. =lett be.= Leave off; make an end of.

28. =wage.= Pledge. Observe the relationship between this word and both _wager_ and _wages_.

29. =Me list.= I wish. Compare _methinks_, _meseems_. From A.-S. _lystan_, to choose.

"The wind bloweth where it listeth."--_John_ iii. 8.

=wote.= Understood. See note 21 above.

30. =Perdy.= An old oath used to give emphasis to an assertion. From Fr. _par dieu_.

31. =wonne.= Habitation. From A.-S. _wunian_, to dwell.

32. =rayne.= Reign. The word is frequently used in the older poets for _realm_, or _region_.

33. =next to Death is Sleepe.=

"How wonderful is Death!
Death and his brother Sleep!"
--_Shelley_, _Queen Mab_, I.

34. =whilome.= At some time.

FOOTNOTES:

[233:1] Wildness without art.

PROTHALAMION; OR, A SPOUSALL VERSE.

IN HONOUR OF THE DOUBLE MARRIAGE OF THE TWO HONORABLE AND VERTUOUS LADIES, THE LADY ELIZABETH AND THE LADY KATHERINE SOMERSET, DAUGHTERS TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE THE EARLE OF WORCESTER, AND ESPOUSED TO THE TWO WORTHIE GENTLEMEN, M. HENRY GILFORD AND M. WILLIAM PETER, ESQUYERS.

Calme was the day, and through the trembling ayre
Sweete-breathing Zephyrus did softly play
A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay
Hot Titans{1} beames, which then did glyster fayre;
When I, (whom sullein care,
Through discontent of my long fruitlesse stay
In princes court,{2} and expectation vayne
Of idle hopes, which still doe fly away
Like empty shadows, did afflict my brayne,)
Walkt forth to ease my payne
Along the shoare of silver streaming Themmes{3};
Whose rutty{4} bank, the which his river hemmes,
Was paynted all with variable flowers,
And all the meades adorned with dainty gemmes
Fit to decke maydens bowres,
And crown their paramours
Against{5} the brydale-day, which is not long;
Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song.

There, in a meadow, by the rivers side,
A flocke of Nymphes I chaunced to espy,
All lovely daughters of the Flood{6} thereby,
With goodly greenish locks, all loose untyde,{7}
As each had been a bryde;
And each one had a little wicker basket,
Made of fine twigs, entrayled{8} curiously,
In which they gathered flowers to fill their flasket,{9}
And with fine fingers cropt{10} full feateously
The tender stalkes on hye.{11}
Of every sort which in that meadow grew,
They gathered some; the violet, pallid{12} blew,
The little dazie that at evening closes,
The virgin lillie, and the primrose trew,{13}
With store{14} of vermeil roses,
To deck their bridegroomes posies{15}
Against the brydale-day, which was not long:
Sweet Themmes! runne softly till I end my song.

With that{16} I saw two Swannes of goodly hewe
Come softly swimming downe along the lee{17};
Two fairer birds I yet did never see;
The snow which doth the top of Pindus strew,
Did never whiter shew,
Nor Jove himselfe, when he a swan would be
For love of Leda, whiter did appeare.
Yet Leda was (they say) as white as he,
Yet not so white as these, nor nothing near{18}:
So purely white they were,
That even the gentle stream, the which them bare,
Seem'd foule to them, and bad his billowes spare
To wet their silken feathers, least they might
Soyle their fayre plumes with water not so fayre,
And marre their beauties bright,
That shone as heavens light,
Against their brydale day which was not long:
Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song.

Eftsoones{19} the Nymphes, which now had flowers their fill,
Ran all in haste to see that silver brood,
As they came floating on the cristal flood;
Whom when they sawe, they stood amazed, still,
Their wondring eyes to fill;
Them seem'd they never saw a sight so fayre,
Of fowles, so lovely, that they sure did deeme
Them heavenly borne, or to be that same payre
Which through the skie draw Venus silver teeme;
For sure they did not seeme
To be begot of any earthly seede,
But rather angels, or of angels breede;
Yet were they bred of Somers-heat,{20} they say,
In sweetest season, when each flower and weede
The earth did fresh array;
So fresh they seem'd as day,
Even as their brydale day, which was not long:
Sweet Themmes! runne softly till I end my song.

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 yeild,
All which upon those goodly birds they threw,
And all the waves did strew,
That like old Peneus{21} waters they did seeme,
When downe along by pleasant Tempes shore,
Scattred with flowres, through Thessaly they streeme,
That they appeare, through lillies plenteous store,
Like a brydes chambre flore.
Two of those Nymphes, meane while, two garlands bound
Of freshest flowres which in that mead they found,
The which presenting all in trim array,
Their snowie foreheads therewithall they crownd
Whilst one did sing this lay,
Prepar'd against that day,
Against their brydale day, which was not long:
Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song.

"Ye gentle Birdes! the worlds faire ornament
"And heavens glorie, whom this happie hower
"Doth leade unto your lovers blissfull bower,
"Ioy may you have, and gentle hearts content
"Of your loves couplement;{22}
"And let faire Venus, that is Queene of Love,
"With her heart-quelling Sonne{23} upon you smile,
"Whose smile, they say, hath vertue to remove
"All loves dislike, and friendships faultie guile
"Forever to assoile.{24}
"Let endlesse peace your steadfast hearts accord,
"And blessed plentie wait upon your bord{25};
"And let your bed with pleasures chast abound,
"That fruitfull issue may to you afford,
"Which may your foes confound
"And make your ioyes redound
"Upon your brydale day, which is not long."
Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song.

So ended she; and all the rest around
To her redoubled{26} that her undersong,
Which said, their brydale day should not be long:
And gentle Eccho from the neighbour{27} ground
Their accents did resound.
So forth those joyous Birdes did passe along
Adowne the lee, that to them murmurde low,
As he would speake, but that he lackt a tong,
Yet did by signes his glad affection show,
Making his streame run slow.
And all the foule which in his flood did dwell
Gan flock about these twaine, that did excell
The rest, so far as Cynthia doth shend{28}
The lesser stars. So they, enranged well,
Did on those two attend,
And their best service lend
Against their wedding day, which was not long:
Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song.

At length they all to mery London came,
To mery London, my most kyndly nurse,{29}
That to me gave this lifes first native sourse,
Though from another place I take my name,
An house of auncient fame;
There when they came, whereas those bricky towres
The which on Themmes brode aged backe doe ryde,
Where now the studious lawyers have their bowers,{30}
There whylome wont the Templer Knights to byde,
Till they decayd through pride;
Next whereunto there standes a stately place,{31}
Where oft I gayned giftes and goodly grace
Of that great lord, which therein wont to dwell,
Whose want too well now feels my freendles case;{32}
But ah! here fits not well{33}
Old woes, but ioyes, to tell
Against the brydale daye, which is not long:
Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song.

Yet therein now doth lodge a nobler peer,{34}
Great Englands glory, and the worlds wide wonder,
Whose dreadfull name late through all Spaine{35} did thunder,
And Hercules two Pillors{36} standing neere
Did make to quake and feare:
Faire branch of honor, flower of chevalrie!
That fillest England with thy triumphs fame,
Ioy have thou of thy noble victorie,
And endlesse happinesse of thine owne name
That promiseth the same;
That through thy prowesse, and victorious armes,
Thy country may be freed from forraine harmes,
And great Elisaes glorious name may ring
Through all the world, fill'd with thy wide alarmes,
Which some brave muse may sing
To ages following,
Upon the brydale day which is not long:
Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song.

From those high towers this noble lord issuing,
Like radiant Hesper,{37} when his golden hare
In th' ocean billows he hath bathed fayre,
Descended to the rivers open vewing,
With a great train ensuing.
Above the rest were goodly to bee seene
Two gentle Knights of lovely face and feature,
Beseeming well the bower of any queene,
With gifts of wit and ornaments of nature,
Fit for so goodly stature,
That like the Twins of Iove{38} they seem'd in sight,
Which decke the bauldricke{39} of the heavens bright;
They two forth pacing to the rivers side,
Receiv'd those two faire Brides, their loves delight;
Which,{40} at th' appointed tyde,
Each one did make his Bryde
Against their brydale day, which is not long:
Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song.

NOTES.

This poem was written and published towards the end of the year 1595. The word _prothalamium_ is from Gr. _pro_, for, and _thalamos_, a bride-chamber, and would more properly be applied to a marriage-song than to "a spousall verse." Spenser had already written--earlier in the same year--the "Epithalamium" in honor of his own marriage. The singing of a hymeneal song in connection with the wedding festivities was a very ancient custom among the Greeks. Homer alludes to it in the "Iliad," XVIII, 493:

"And two fair populous towns were sculptur'd there;
In one were marriage pomp and revelry,
And brides, in gay procession, through the streets
With blazing torches from their chambers borne,
While frequent rose the hymeneal song."

See, also, Spenser's "Faerie Queene," I, xii, 38.

1. =Titans.= The word is used for Helios, the son of the Titans, Hyperion and Thea. Observe that the apostrophe, as the sign of the possessive case, is never used by Spenser.

=glyster.= Glisten, shine. From A.-S. _glisnian_, glow, or shine with a soft light.

"All that glisters is not gold."
--_Shakespeare_, _Merchant of Venice_, Act ii, sc. vii.

"Know one false step is ne'er retrieved . . .
Nor all that glisters gold."
--_Gray_, _On a Favourite Cat, etc._

=fayre.= Fairly. An old form of the adverb, sanctioned by very old usage, but not current in Spenser's time.

2. =princes court.= Spenser had had experience of the many bitter disappointments which befall him who seeks the favor of royalty. In "Mother Hubbard's Tale" he complains in this wise:

"Full little knowest thou that hast not tride,
What hell it is in suing long to bide:
To lose good dayes that might be better spent;
To wast long nights in pensive discontent;
To speed today, to be put back tomorrow;
To feed on hope, to pine with feare and sorrow;
To have thy Princes grace, yet want her Peeres;
To have thy asking, yet waite manie yeeres;
To fret thy soule with crosses and with cares;
To eate thy heart through comfortlesse dispaires;
To fawne, to crowche, to waite, to ride, to ronne;
To spend, to give, to want, to be undonne."

3. =silver streaming Themmes.= Sir John Denham's apostrophe to the Thames is well known:

"Oh, could I flow like thee, and make thy stream
My great example, as it is my theme!
Though deep, yet clear; though gentle, yet not dull;
Strong without rage; without overflowing full."
--_Cooper's Hill_, 189.

And Pope praises the stream in still more extravagant terms:

"No seas so rich, so gay no banks appear,
No lake so gentle, and no spring so clear."
--_Windsor Forest_, 227.

See, also, Spenser's "Faerie Queene," IV, xi.

4. =rutty.= Rooty.

5. =Against.= For, or in preparation for; to provide for. Compare Genesis xliii. 25: "And they made ready the present against Joseph came at noon." And Shakespeare's "Midsummer Night's Dream," Act iii, sc. ii:

"I'll charm his eyes against she do appear."

6. =Flood.= This word was often used, as here, to denote simply a river. Pope addresses the river Thames:

"Thou, too, great father of the British floods!"

7. =all loose untyde.= Steevens says: "Brides formerly walked to church with their hair hanging loose behind."

8. =entrayled.= Twisted, interlaced.

9. =flasket.= A long, shallow basket. Not used here as the diminutive of _flask_. Hales says it is the name given by the fishermen of Cornwall to the vessel in which the fish are transferred from the seine to the "tuck-net."

10. =cropt.= Gathered, Dutch _krappen_, to cut off.

=feateously.= Neatly, skilfully. Compare Chaucer:

"And French she spake ful fayre and fetisly."
--_Canterbury Tales_, 124.

"A chambre had he in that hostelrie
Ful fetisly ydight with herbes sote."
--_Ibid._, 3205.

11. =on hye.= In haste. Probably the same as _hie_, haste.

12. =pallid.= Pale.

13. =primrose trew.= Compare Milton's "Lycidas," 142:

"The rathe primrose that forsaken dies."

And Shakespeare's "The Winter's Tale," Act iv, sc. iii;

"Pale primroses that die unmarried."

14. =store.= Abundance.

=vermeil.= Vermilion. Commonly used as a noun.

15. =posies.= "Posy originally meant verses presented with a nosegay or a bunch of flowers, and hence the term came to be applied to the flowers themselves."

16. =With that.= At the same time.

=Swannes.= "Paulus Jovius, who died in 1552, describing the Thames, says: 'This river abounds in swans, swimming in flocks; the sight of whom and their noise are vastly agreeable to the fleets that meet them in their course.'"--_Knight's Cyclopedia of London._

17. =lee.= Water, or river. See "Faerie Queene," V, ii, 19:

"His corps was carried downe along the lee,
Whose waters with his filthy bloud it stayned."

Also, _Ibid._, IV, ii, 16:

"As when two warlike brigandines at sea,
With murdrous weapons arm'd to cruell fight,
Do meete together on the watry lea."

The word is of Celtic origin, and is very common as a river-name in England, Ireland, France, and other parts of Western Europe.

18. =nor nothing near.= In early English two negatives did not destroy each other, as now, but made the negation more emphatic.

19. =Eftsoones.= Soon after. From A.-S. _eft_, after, and _sona_, soon.

20. =Somers-heat.= The two ladies celebrated in this poem, it will be remembered, were Lady Elizabeth and Lady Katherine Somerset.

21. The Peneus river, the most important stream in Thessaly, forces its way through the Vale of Tempe, between Mounts Ossa and Olympus, into the sea.

22. =loves couplement.= Marriage.

23. =heart-quelling Sonne.= Cupid.

24. =assoile.= Free from, put off.

"Through long watch, and late daies weary toile,
She soundly slept, and carefull thoughts did quite assoile."
--_Faerie Queene_, III, i, 58.

25. =bord.= "Bed" and "board" are two associated terms, very frequently so used, which imply the performance of the two acts necessary for the maintenance of life--sleeping and eating. See Shakespeare's "Comedy of Errors," Act v, sc. i:

"In bed he slept not for my urging it,
At board he fed not for my urging it."

Also, "As You Like It," Act v, sc. iv:

"Wedding is great Juno's crown--
O blessed bond of board and bed!"

26. =redoubled.= Repeated.

=undersong.= Refrain, burden.

27. =neighbour.= See note 10, on Burns's "Cotter's Saturday Night."

28. =shend.= Outshine, shame, disgrace. From A.-S. _scendan_.

29. =my most kyndly nurse.= Although born in London, the poet was "descended from the ancient and honourable family of Spencer, of Althorpe in Northamptonshire."

30. "When the order of the Knights Templar was suppressed in Edward the Second's reign, their London estate on the bank of the Thames was given over to the Knights of St. John; by these it was leased to the students of the Common Law, who, not finding a home at Cambridge or Oxford, were at that time in want of a habitation."--_Hales._

31. =stately place.= This stood in the gardens where the Outer Temple should have been. In 1580 it was occupied by the Earl of Leicester, and here Spenser was for a time entertained, as he asserts in the following line. The great lord whom he mentions was Leicester.

32. "The want of whom I feel too well in my present friendless condition."

33. =fits not well.= It is not proper.

34. =nobler peer.= The Earl of Essex.

35. Macaulay says of Lord Essex's expedition against Spain, in 1596, that it was "the most brilliant military exploit that was achieved on the Continent by English arms during the long interval which elapsed between the battle of Agincourt and that of Blenheim."

36. =Hercules two Pillors.= The rocky capes on either side of the Strait of Gibraltar. It was said that Hercules erected them to mark the western limit of his wanderings.

37. =Hesper.= Hesperus was the evening star, also sometimes regarded as the morning star, and hence called by Homer the bringer of light. See note on Lucifer, page 80 and page 189.

38. =Twins of Iove.= Castor and Pollux. Two heroic brothers who as a reward of their devotion to each other were placed among the stars in the constellation Gemini.

39. =bauldricke.= Belt, girdle, or sash. The "bauldricke of the heavens" is the zodiac.

40. =Which.= In early English this pronoun was very commonly used instead of _who_ when referring to persons.

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE.

EDMUND SPENSER was born in London about the year 1552. He was educated at Merchant Taylor's school, and in 1569 went to Cambridge University, where he entered Pembroke Hall as a sizar. In the same year his first poetical performances--translations from Petrarch and Du Bellay--were published in a miscellaneous collection without the name of the author. At the University he was zealously devoted to the study of Latin and Greek literature, and there he made the acquaintance of several students who afterwards became men of note. In 1579 he visited Sir Philip Sidney at Penshurst, with whom he afterwards spent some time in London at the house of Sidney's uncle, the Earl of Leicester. In 1580 was published, but without his name, his first considerable poem, "The Shepheards Calendar"; and in the autumn of the same year he went to Ireland as secretary to Lord Grey of Wilton, the new Lord Lieutenant. With the exception of a few brief visits made to England, the remainder of his life was spent partly in Dublin and partly at Kilcolman Castle on a grant of forfeited land in the county of Cork. Between 1580 and 1589 he wrote the first three books of "The Faerie Queene," and in 1590 they were published in London, through the influence of Sir Walter Raleigh, who had recently visited the poet in Ireland. In the summer of 1594 he married a lady named Elizabeth, probably the daughter of some English settler in Ireland; and in the following year he carried to London and published the second three books of "The Faerie Queene." At about the same time were published his "Colin Clout's Come Home Again," and his "Amoretti Sonnets," and an "Epithalamium" relating to his courtship and marriage. Returning to Ireland, he resumed his labor upon the half-completed "Faerie Queene," but it was rudely interrupted by the breaking out of an insurrection among the Irish. In 1598 Spenser's house was sacked and burned by the rebels, and it was with the greatest difficulty that he and his family escaped with their lives. Indeed, it is stated, on the authority of Ben Jonson, that one little child perished in the flames. Spenser returned to London in poverty and great distress, and on the 16th of January, 1599, he died in King Street, Westminster. He was buried in the Abbey.

Spenser has been very appropriately named "the poets' poet." "For," says Leigh Hunt, "he has had more idolatry and imitation from his brethren than all the rest put together. The old undramatic poets, Drayton, Browne, Drummond, and Giles and Phineas Fletcher, were as full of him as the dramatic were of Shakespeare. Milton studied and used him, calling him 'sage and serious Spenser'; and adding that he 'dared be known to think him a better teacher than Scotus and Aquinas.' Cowley said he became a poet by reading him. Dryden claimed him for a master. Pope said he read him with as much pleasure when he was old as when he was young. Collins and Gray loved him. Thomson, Shenstone, and a host of inferior writers expressly imitated him. Burns, Byron, Shelley, and Keats made use of his stanza. Coleridge eulogized him."

Hazlitt says, "Of all the poets, Spenser is the most poetical." And Taine declares that no modern is more like Homer than he.

With reference to the peculiar forms of language--comparatively obsolete even when "The Faerie Queene" was composed--which are so marked a characteristic of Spenser's poetry, Hales says: "The subject he chose for his great work drew him into the midst of the old times of chivalry, and the literature that belonged to them. With such a subject the older forms of the language seemed to consort better. To him, too, perhaps, as to Virgil, the older words and word-forms seemed to give elevation and dignity. Moreover, an older dialect was probably to some extent his vernacular, as he had probably passed his youth in Lancashire. Lastly, the only great poet who had preceded him, his great model, the Tityrus of whom he 'his songs did lere,' was Chaucer. To him Chaucer's language may have seemed the one language of English poetry."

REFERENCES: Warton's _History of English Poetry_; Hazlitt's _Lectures on the English Poets_; Craik's _Spenser and his Poetry_; Morley's _English Writers_.

Thomas Wyatt.

A LOVE SONG.

THE LOVER COMPLAINETH OF THE UNKINDNESS OF HIS LOVE.

My lute, awake! perform the last
Labor that thou and I shall waste;
And end that I have now begun:
And when this song is sung and past,
My lute! be still, for I have done.

As to be heard where ear is none;
As lead to grave in marble stone,
My song may pierce her heart as soon;
Should we then sing, or sigh, or moan?
No, no, my lute! for I have done.

The rock doth not so cruelly,
Repulse the waves continually,
As she my suit and affection:
So that I am past remedy;
Whereby my lute and I have done.

Proud of the spoil that thou hast got
Of simple hearts thorough Love's shot,
By whom, unkind, thou hast them won;
Think not he hath his bow forgot,
Although my lute and I have done.

Vengeance shall fall on thy disdain,
That makest but game of earnest pain;
Trow not alone under the sun
Unquit to cause thy lovers plain,
Although my lute and I have done.

May chance thee lie withered and old
In winter nights, that are so cold,
Plaining in vain unto the moon;
Thy wishes then dare not be told:
Care then who list, for I have done.

And then may chance thee to repent
The time that thou hast lost and spent,
To cause thy lovers sigh and swoon:
Then shalt thou know beauty but lent,
And wish and want, as I have done.

Now cease, my lute! This is the last
Labor that thou and I shall waste;
And ended is that we begun:
Now is thy song both sung and past;
My lute, be still, for I have done.

THE COURTIER'S LIFE.

In court to serve, decked with fresh array,
Of sugared meats feeling the sweet repast;
The life in banquets and sundry kinds of play,
Amid the press of worldly looks to waste:
Hath with it joined oft times such bitter taste,
That whoso joyes such kind of life to hold,
In prison joyes, fettered with chains of gold.

The Earl of Surrey.

FROM THE FOURTH BOOK OF VIRGIL'S "ÆNEID."

--At the threshold of her chamber door
The Carthage lords did on the Queen attend:
The trampling steed, with gold and purple trapped,
Chewing the foaming bit there fiercely stood.
Then issued she, awaited with great train,
Clad in a cloak of Tyre embroidered rich.
Her quiver hung behind her back, her tress
Knotted in gold, her purple vesture eke
Buttoned with gold. The Trojans of her train
Before her go, with gladsome Iulus.
Æneas eke, the goodliest of the rout,
Makes one of them, and joineth close the throng.
Like when Apollo leaveth Lycia,
His wint'ring place, and Xanthus, stood likewise,
To visit Delos his mother's mansion,
Repairing eft and furnishing her quire.
The Candians and the folk of Driopes,
With painted Agathyrsi shout and cry,
Environing the altars round about,
When that he walks upon Mount Cynthus' top,
His sparkled tress repressed with garlands soft
Of tender leaves, and trussed up in gold,
His quiver and darts clattering behind his back--
So fresh and lusty did Æneas seem.
But to the hills and wild holts when they came
From the rock's top the driven savage rose.
So, from the hills above on the other side,
Through the wide lawns they gan to take their course.
The harts likewise, in troops taking their flight,
Raising the dust, the mountain-fast forsake.
The child Iulus, blithe of his swift steed
Amids the plain, now pricks by them, by these;
And to the encounter wisheth oft, in mind,
The foaming boar instead of fearful beasts,
Or lion brown, might from the hill descend.

NOTE.

This short extract is given as a sample of the first blank verse written in the English language. The spelling has been modernized.

A SONNET.

DESCRIPTION AND PRAISE OF HIS LOVE GERALDINE.

From Tuscan' came my lady's worthy race;
Fair Florence was some time their ancient seat;
The western isle, whose pleasant shore doth face
Wild Camber's cliffs, did give her lively heat:
Fostered she was with milk of Irish breast;
Her sire an earl; her dame of princes' blood:
From tender years, in Britain she doth rest
With king's child, where she tasteth costly food.
Hunsdon did first present her to my een:
Bright is her hue, and Geraldine she hight:
Hampton me taught to wish her first for mine:
And Windsor, alas, doth chase me from her sight.
Her beauty of kind, her virtues from above;
Happy is he that can obtain her love.

ON THE DEATH OF SIR THOMAS WYATT.

Wyatt resteth here that quick could never rest:
Whose heavenly gifts increased by disdain,
And virtue sank the deeper in his breast;
Such profit he by envy could obtain.

A head where wisdom mysteries did frame,
Whose hammers beat still in that lively brain,
As on a stithe where that some work of fame
Was daily wrought, to turn to Britain's gain.

A hand that taught what might be said in rhyme;
That reft Chaucer the glory of his wit;
A mark, the which (unperfected for time)
Some may approach, but never none shall hit.

An eye whose judgment none effect could blind,
Friends to allure and foes to reconcile,
Whose piercing look did represent a mind
With virtue fraught reposed void of guile.

A heart where dread was never so imprest
To hide the thought that might the truth advance;
In neither fortune lost, nor yet represt,
To swell in wealth, or yield unto mischance.

A valiant corpse, where force and beauty met,
Happy alas, too happy but for foes,
Lived, and ran the race that nature set
Of manhood's shape, when she the mould did lose.

Thus for our guilt this jewel have we lost;
The earth his bones, the heavens possess his ghost.

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES.

WYATT and SURREY are usually named together as the most illustrious poets of the earlier part of the sixteenth century. J. Churton Collins calls them, not inaptly, "the Dioscuri of the Dawn." "They inaugurated," he says, "that important period in our literature known as the Era of Italian Influence, or that of the Company of Courtly Makers--the period which immediately preceded and ushered in the age of Spenser and Shakespeare." It is to them that we are indebted for the sonnet: they were indeed the founders of our lyrical poetry. Jonson, Herrick, Waller, Cowley, and Suckling found inspiration in their ditties. Surrey's translation of the second and fourth books of Virgil's "Æneid" (1552) is the earliest specimen of blank verse in our language.

* * * * *

THOMAS WYATT was born at Allington Castle in 1503, and in his youth was a prominent and very popular member of the court of Henry VIII. He was knighted in 1536, and in 1537 became high sheriff of Kent. In April of the same year he was sent as ambassador to Spain, and in 1539-40 was with the court of Charles V. in the Low Countries. Returning to England he lived for the next two years in retirement, and died at Sherborne in 1542.

* * * * *

HENRY HOWARD, EARL OF SURREY, was born about 1517, and, like his friend Wyatt, passed his youth at the court of Henry VIII. He served in France in 1540, and again in 1544-46. After taking Boulogne, he became its governor; but, on account of defeat soon afterwards at St. Etienne, he was recalled to England by Henry VIII. His comments upon this action of the king caused his arrest and imprisonment in the Tower. A charge of high treason was preferred against him for having quartered the royal arms with his own, and he was beheaded on Tower Hill, January 21, 1547.

Ballads.

WALY, WALY.

O waly,{1} waly, up the bank,
O waly, waly, doun the brae,{2}
And waly, waly, yon burn-side,{3}
Where I and my love were wont to gae!
I lean'd my back unto an aik,
I thocht it was a trustie tree,
But first it bow'd and syne{4} it brak',--
Sae my true love did lichtlie{5} me.

O waly, waly, but love be bonnie
A little time while it is new!
But when it's auld it waxeth cauld,
And fadeth awa' like the morning dew.
O wherefore should I busk{6} my heid,
Or wherefore should I kame my hair?
For my true love has me forsook,
And says he'll never lo'e me mair.

Noo Arthur's Seat{7} sall be my bed,
The sheets sall ne'er be press'd by me;
Saint Anton's well sall be my drink;
Since my true love's forsaken me.
Martinmas wind, when wilt thou blaw,
And shake the green leaves off the tree?
O gentle death, when wilt thou come?
For of my life I am wearie.

'Tis not the frost that freezes fell,
Nor blawing snaw's inclemencie,
'Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry;
But my love's heart grown cauld to me.
When we cam' in by Glasgow toun,
We were a comely sicht to see;
My love was clad in the black velvet,
And I mysel' in cramasie.

But had I wist before I kiss'd
That love had been so ill to win,
I'd lock'd my heart in a case o' goud,
And pinn'd it wi' a siller pin.
Oh, oh! if my young babe were born,
And set upon the nurse's knee;
An' I mysel' were dead and gane,
And the green grass growing over me!

NOTES.

"This is a very ancient song," says Bishop Percy, "but we can only give it from a modern copy." It is often printed as part of a ballad relating to the history of Lord James Douglas and of the Laird of Blackwood. The lament is that of a beautiful lady whose fortunes were connected with those of Lord Douglas.

1. =waly.= An interjection denoting grief.

2. =brae.= Hillside.

3. =burn-side.= Brook-side.

4. =syne.= Then.

5. =lichtlie.= Slight, undervalue.

6. =busk.= Dress.

7. =Arthur's Seat.= A hill near Edinburgh, at the foot of which is St. Anthony's well.

SIR PATRICK SPENS.

A SCOTTISH BALLAD.

[This ballad is a confused echo of the Scotch expedition which should have brought the Maid of Norway to Scotland about 1285.]

The king sits in Dunfermline town,
Drinking the blude-red wine;
"O whare will I get a skeely skipper,
To sail this new ship of mine!"

O up and spake an eldern knight,
Sat at the king's right knee,--
"Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor,
That ever sail'd the sea."

Our king has written a braid letter,
And seal'd it with his hand,
And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens,
Was walking on the strand.

"To Noroway, to Noroway,
To Noroway o'er the faem;
The king's daughter of Noroway,
'Tis thou maun bring her hame."

The first word that Sir Patrick read,
Sae loud, loud laughed he;
The neist word that Sir Patrick read,
The tear blinded his e'e.

"O wha is this has done this deed,
And tauld the king o' me,
To send us out, at this time of the year,
To sail upon the sea?

"Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be it sleet,
Our ship must sail the faem;
The king's daughter of Noroway,
'Tis we must fetch her hame."

They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn,
Wi' a' the speed they may;
They hae landed in Noroway,
Upon a Wodensday.

They hadna been a week, a week,
In Noroway, but twae,
When that the lords o' Noroway
Began aloud to say,--

"Ye Scottishmen spend a' our king's goud,
And a' our queenis fee."
"Ye lie, ye lie, ye liars loud!
Fu' loud I hear ye lie.

"For I brought as much white monie,
As gane my men and me,
And I brought a half-fou o' gude red goud,
Out o'er the sea wi' me.

"Make ready, make ready, my merrymen a'!
Our gude ship sails the morn."
"Now, ever alake, my master dear,
I fear a deadly storm!

"I saw the new moon, late yestreen,
Wi' the auld moon in her arm;
And, if we gang to sea, master,
I fear we'll come to harm."

They had not sailed a league, a league,
A league but barely three,
When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud,
And gurly grew the sea.

The ankers brak, and the topmasts lap,
It was sic a deadly storm;
And the waves cam o'er the broken ship,
Till a' her sides were torn.

"O where will I get a gude sailor,
To take my helm in hand,
Till I get up to the tall top-mast,
To see if I can spy land?"

"O here am I, a sailor gude,
To take the helm in hand,
Till you go up to the tall top-mast;
But I fear you'll ne'er spy land."

He hadna gane a step, a step,
A step but barely ane,
When a bout flew out of our goodly ship,
And the salt sea it came in.

"Gae, fetch a web o' the silken claith,
Another o' the twine,
And wap them into our ship's side,
And let na the sea come in."

They fetched a web o' the silken claith,
Another of the twine,
And wapped them round that gude ship's side,
But still the sea came in.

O laith, laith, were our gude Scots lords
To weet their cork-heel'd shoon!
But lang or a' the play was play'd,
They wat their hats aboon.

And mony was the feather-bed,
That flattered on the faem;
And mony was the gude lord's son,
That never mair cam hame.

The ladyes wrang their fingers white,
The maidens tore their hair,
A' for the sake of their true loves;
For them they'll see na mair.

O lang, lang, may the ladyes sit,
Wi' their fans into their hand,
Before they see Sir Patrick Spens
Come sailing to the strand!

And lang, lang, may the maidens sit,
Wi' their goud kaims in their hair,
A' waiting for their ain dear loves!
For them they'll see na mair.

O forty miles off Aberdeen,
'Tis fifty fathoms deep,
And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens,
Wi' the Scots lords at his feet.

NOTES AND GLOSSARY.

This ballad in its original form is a very old one, and was probably at first a metrical story of the Scotch expedition which was sent to bring the Maid of Norway to Scotland (about the year 1285). In its sixteenth-century form it shows many changes and additions, some of which are not in harmony with the original tale. The _cork-heel'd shoon_, for example, were unknown until some hundreds of years later than the occurrence of the events here narrated.

=skeely=, skilful.
=skipper=, captain.
=braid=, open, not private.
=goud=, gold.
=fee= (see note 13, page 105).
=gane=, suffice.
=half-fou=, a quart, dry measure.
=alake=, alack.
=lift=, sky. (Still used in Scotland.)
=shoon=, shoes.

THE BAILIFF'S DAUGHTER OF ISLINGTON.

There was a youthe, and a well-beloved youthe,
And he was a squires son;
He loved the bayliffes daughter deare,
That lived in Islington.

Yet she was coye, and would not believe
That he did love her soe,
Noe nor at any time would she
Any countenance to him showe.

But when his friendes did understand
His fond and foolish minde,
They sent him up to faire London,
An apprentice for to binde.

And when he had been seven long yeares,
And never his love could see,--
"Many a teare have I shed for her sake,
When she little thought of mee."

Then all the maids of Islington
Went forth to sport and playe,
All but the bayliffes daughter deare;
She secretly stole awaye.

She pulled off her gowne of greene,
And put on ragged attire,
And to faire London she would go
Her true love to enquire.

And as she went along the high road,
The weather being hot and drye,
She sat her downe upon a green bank,
And her true love came riding bye.

She started up, with a colour soe redd,
Catching hold of his bridle-reine;
"One penny, one penny, kind sir," she sayd,
"Will ease me of much paine."

"Before I give you one penny, sweet-heart,
Praye tell me where you were borne."
"At Islington, kind sir," sayd shee,
"Where I have had many a scorne."

"I prythee, sweet-heart, then tell to mee,
O tell me, whether you knowe
The bayliffes daughter of Islington."
"She is dead, sir, long agoe."

"If she be dead, then take my horse,
My saddle and bridle also;
For I will into some farr countrye,
Where noe man shall me knowe."

"O staye, O staye, thou goodlye youthe,
She standeth by thy side;
She is here alive, she is not dead,
And readye to be thy bride."

"O farewell griefe, and welcome joye,
Ten thousand times therefore;
For nowe I have founde mine owne true love,
Whom I thought I should never see more."

ROBIN HOOD AND THE WIDOW'S THREE SONS.

There are twelve months in all the year,
As I hear many say,
But the merriest month in all the year
Is the merry month of May.

Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,
_With a link a down, and a day_,
And there he met a silly old woman,
Was weeping on the way.

"What news? what news? thou silly old woman,
What news hast thou for me?"
Said she, "There's my three sons in Nottingham town
To-day condemned to die."

"O, have they parishes burnt?" he said,
"Or have they ministers slain?
Or have they robbed any virgin?
Or other men's wives have ta'en?"

"They have no parishes burnt, good sir,
Nor yet have ministers slain,
Nor have they robbed any virgin,
Nor other men's wives have ta'en."

"O, what have they done?" said Robin Hood,
"I pray thee tell to me."
"It's for slaying of the king's fallow deer,
Bearing their long bows with thee."

"Dost thou not mind, old woman," he said,
"How thou madest me sup and dine?
By the truth of my body," quoth bold Robin Hood,
"You could not tell it in better time."

Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,
_With a link a down, and a day_,
And there he met with a silly old palmer,
Was walking along the highway.

"What news? what news? thou silly old man,
What news, I do thee pray?"
Said he, "Three squires in Nottingham town
Are condemn'd to die this day."

"Come change thy apparel with me, old man,
Come change thy apparel for mine;
Here is ten shillings in good silvèr,
Go drink it in beer or wine."

"O, thine apparel is good," he said,
"And mine is ragged and torn;
Wherever you go, wherever you ride,
Laugh not an old man to scorn."

"Come change thy apparel with me, old churl,
Come change thy apparel with mine;
Here is a piece of good broad gold,
Go feast thy brethren with wine."

Then he put on the old man's hat,
It stood full high on the crown:
"The first bold bargain that I come at,
It shall make thee come down."

Then he put on the old man's cloak,
Was patch'd black, blue, and red;
He thought it no shame, all the day long,
To wear the bags of bread.

Then he put on the old man's breeks,
Was patch'd from leg to side:
"By the truth of my body," bold Robin can say,
"This man loved little pride."

Then he put on the old man's hose,
Were patch'd from knee to wrist:
"By the truth of my body," said bold Robin Hood,
"I'd laugh if I had any list."

Then he put on the old man's shoes,
Were patch'd both beneath and aboon;
Then Robin Hood swore a solemn oath,
"It's good habit that makes a man."

Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,
_With a link a down and a down_,
And there he met with the proud sheriff,
Was walking along the town.

"Save you, save you, sheriff!" he said;
"Now heaven you save and see!
And what will you give to a silly old man
To-day will your hangman be?"

"Some suits, some suits," the sheriff he said,
"Some suits I'll give to thee;
Some suits, some suits, and pence thirteen,
To-day's a hangman's fee."

Then Robin he turns him round about,
And jumps from stock to stone:
"By the truth of my body," the sheriff he said,
"That's well jumpt, thou nimble old man."

"I was ne'er a hangman in all my life,
Nor yet intends to trade;
But curst be he," said bold Robin,
"That first a hangman was made!

"I've a bag for meal, and a bag for malt,
And a bag for barley and corn;
And a bag for bread, and a bag for beef,
And a bag for my little small horn.

"I have a horn in my pockèt,
I got it from Robin Hood,
And still when I set it to my mouth,
For thee it blows little good."

"O, wind thy horn, thou proud fellòw!
Of thee I have no doubt.
I wish that thou give such a blast,
Till both thy eyes fall out."

The first loud blast that he did blow,
He blew both loud and shrill;
A hundred and fifty of Robin Hood's men
Came riding over the hill.

The next loud blast that he did give,
He blew both loud and amain,
And quickly sixty of Robin Hood's men
Came shining over the plain.

"O, who are these," the sheriff he said,
"Come tripping over the lee?"
"They're my attendants," brave Robin did say;
"They'll pay a visit to thee."

They took the gallows from the slack,
They set it in the glen,
They hanged the proud sherìff on that,
Released their own three men.

NOTES.

Among the earliest and most popular of English ballads are those relating to Robin Hood. This noted, half-mythical outlaw was the impersonation of popular rights as they were understood by Englishmen of the lower orders in the days of the Plantagenets. Hence the memory of him and his reputed deeds was preserved in the songs of the people. "It is he," says an old historian, "whom the common people love so dearly to celebrate in games and comedies, and whose history, sung by fiddlers, interests them more than any other." Even so late as the reign of Edward VI., "Robyn Hoode's Daye" was very generally observed in the country parishes as a day of feasting and amusement.

The ballads were originally the production of wandering minstrels or gleemen, a class of men very popular in the Middle Ages, who followed the profession of poetry and music. These rude poets were held in the highest esteem and veneration by the people among whom they lived; they were received and welcomed wherever they went, and even kings delighted to honor them. In short, their art was supposed, by the Anglo-Saxons, to be of divine origin, having been invented by Odin, the great All-Father, and perfected by Bragi, the musician of the gods. As, however, civilization advanced and Christianity became established, this admiration for the minstrel and his art became modified in a degree. He was no longer regarded as a poet, but only as a singer, a sweet musician. Poetry was cultivated by men of leisure and refinement; but lyrical ballads remained the peculiar inheritance of the minstrel. For a long time after the Norman conquest, minstrels continued to gain their livelihood by singing in the houses of the great, and at festive occasions, which were never considered complete unless graced by the presence of these honored descendants of Bragi; nor did they cease to compose and sing their inimitable pieces until near the close of Elizabeth's reign. The greater number of the ballads now in existence were probably produced during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries; and the best of them originated in the "North Country," or the border region between England and Scotland. They were not at first reduced to writing, but were handed down from one generation to another merely by oral tradition. As regards their metre and versification, the ballads were commonly composed of iambic hexameters or heptameters rhyming in couplets. These couplets are readily broken into stanzas of four lines, in which form they are usually printed.

The first collection of English ballads ever published was probably that of John Dryden, in 1684. The collection was included in a volume entitled _Miscellany Poems_. In 1723 a work called _A Collection of Old Ballads_ was published anonymously. In 1724 Allan Ramsay issued _The Evergreen_, "being a collection of Scots Poems wrote by the Ingenious before 1600." This work included many popular songs and ballads. It was reprinted in 1875.

We owe the preservation of a large number of the most interesting and beautiful ballads to Bishop Percy, who, in 1765, published the first really valuable collection of such works in his _Reliques of Ancient English Poetry_. Previous to that time most of these songs had existed only in manuscript, or, if printed at all, in the cheapest style of typography, on sheets designed for circulation among the poor. Bishop Percy's work first called the attention of scholars to the value and beauty of these neglected and half-forgotten relics, and did much to bring about that revolution in literature which took place in the latter part of the last century. And it is to these old ballads, thus rescued from oblivion, that we owe very many of the noblest literary productions of the present century. We know that they were the immediate inspiration of Sir Walter Scott, and that they exerted a wonderful influence in modifying and directing the taste and style of many other distinguished writers.

The Fifteenth Century.

"_When we pass from Chaucer's age, we have to overleap nearly a hundred and eighty years before we alight upon a period presenting anything like an adequate show of literary continuation. A few smaller names are all that can be cited as poetical representatives of this sterile interval in the literary history of England: whatever of Chaucer's genius still lingered in the island seeming to have travelled northward and taken refuge in a series of Scotch poets, excelling any of their English contemporaries. We are driven to suppose that there was something in the social circumstances of England during the long period in question which prevented such talent as there was from assuming the particular form of literature. Fully to make out what this 'something' was may baffle us; but, when we remember that this was the period of the Civil Wars of the Roses, we have reason to believe that the dearth of pure literature may have been owing, in part, to the engrossing nature of the practical questions which then disturbed English society. . . . Accordingly, though printing was introduced during this period, and thus Englishmen had greater temptations to write, what they did write was almost exclusively plain grave prose, intended for practical or polemical occasions, and making no figure in a historical retrospect._"--DAVID MASSON.

"_Must we quote all these good people who have nothing to say? . . . dozens of translators, importing the poverties of French poetry, rhyming chroniclers, most commonplace of men; spinners and spinsters of didactic poems who pile up verses on the training of falcons, on heraldry, on chemistry, . . . invent the same dream over again for the hundredth time, and get themselves taught universal history by the goddess Sapience. . . . It is the scholastic phase of poetry._"--TAINE.

Poets of the Fifteenth Century.

=John Lydgate= (1370-1440). See biographical note, page 283.

=Thomas Occleve= (1365-1450). "De Regimine Principum"; short poems.

=Robert Henryson= (1425-1480). See biographical note, page 283.

=William Dunbar= (1450-1513). See biographical note, page 283.

=Gawain Douglas= (1474-1522). See biographical note, page 284.

=Stephen Hawes= ( -1530), "The Pastime of Pleasure"; "Graunde Amour and la Belle Pucel."

=John Skelton= (1460-1529). See biographical note, page 272.

John Skelton.

TO MAYSTRESS MARGARET HUSSEY.