Whilome, sometime.
Oaten reedes, Avena.
Ligge so layde, lye so faynt and unlustye.
Dapper, pretye.
Frye is a bold metaphore, forced from the spawning fishes: for the multitude of young fish be called the frye.
To restraine. This place seemeth to conspyre with Plato, who in his first booke de Legibus sayth, that the first invention of poetry was of very vertuous intent. For at what time an infinite number of youth usually came to theyr great solemne feastes called Panegyrica, which they used every five yeere to hold, some learned man, being more hable then the rest for speciall gyftes of wytte and musicke, would take upon him to sing fine verses to the people, in prayse eyther of vertue or of victory or of immortality, or such like. At whose wonderful gyft al men being astonied and as it were ravished with delight, thinking (as it was indeed) that he was inspired from above, called him vatem: which kinde of men afterwarde framing their verses to lighter musick (as of musick be many kinds, some sadder, some lighter, some martiall, some heroical: and so diversely eke affect the mynds of men) found out lighter matter of poesie also, some playing wyth love, some scorning at mens fashions, some powred out in pleasures: and so were called poetes or makers.
Sence bereave. What the secrete working of musick is in the myndes of men, aswell appeareth hereby, that some of the auncient philosophers, and those the moste wise, as Plato and Pythagoras, held for opinion, that the mynd was made of a certaine harmonie and musicall nombers, for the great compassion and likenes of affection in thone and in the other, as also by that memorable history of Alexander: to whom when as Timotheus the great musitian playd the Phrygian melodie, it is said that he was distraught with such unwonted fury, that streight way rysing from the table in great rage, he caused himselfe to be armed, as ready to goe to warre, (for that musick is very warlike:) and immediatly when as the musitian chaunged his stroke into the Lydian and Ionique harmony, he was so furr from warring, that he sat as styl, as if he had bene in matters of counsell. Such might is in musick. Wherefore Plato and Aristotle forbid the Arcadian melodie from children and youth. For that being altogither on the fyft and vii. tone, it is of great force to molifie and quench the kindly courage, which useth to burne in yong brests. So that it is not incredible which the poete here sayth, that musick can bereave the soule of sence.
The shepheard that, Orpheus: of whom is sayd, that by his excellent skil in musick and poetry, he recovered his wife Eurydice from hell.
Argus eyes. Of Argus is before said, that Juno to him committed hir husband Jupiter his paragon, Iô, bicause he had an hundred eyes: but afterwarde Mercury, wyth hys musick lulling Argus aslepe, slew him and brought Iô away, whose eyes it is sayd that Juno, for his eternall memory, placed in her byrd the peacocks tayle: for those coloured spots indeede resemble eyes.
Woundlesse armour, unwounded in warre, doe rust through long peace.
Display, a poeticall metaphore: whereof the meaning is, that, if the poet list showe his skill in matter of more dignitie then is the homely Æglogue, good occasion is him offered of higher veyne and more heroicall argument in the person of our most gratious soveraign, whom (as before) he calleth Elisa. Or if mater of knighthoode and chevalrie please him better, that there be many noble and valiaunt men, that are both worthy of his payne in theyr deserved prayses, and also favourers of hys skil and faculty.
The worthy. He meaneth (as I guesse) the most honorable and renowmed the Erle of Leycester, whom by his cognisance (although the same be also proper to other) rather then by his name he bewrayeth, being not likely that the names of noble princes be known to country clowne.
Slack, that is when thou chaungest thy verse from stately discourse, to matter of more pleasaunce and delight.
The millers, a kind of daunce.
Ring, company of dauncers.
The Romish Tityrus, wel knowen to be Virgile, who by Mecænas means was brought into the favour of the Emperor Augustus, and by him moved to write in loftier kinde then he erst had doen.
Whereon. In these three verses are the three severall workes of Virgile intended. For in teaching his flocks to feede, is meant his Æglogues. In labouring of lands, is hys Bucoliques. In singing of wars and deadly dreade, is his divine Æneis figured.
In derring doe, in manhoode and chevalrie.
For ever. He sheweth the cause why poetes were wont be had in such honor of noble men, that is, that by them their worthines and valor shold through theyr famous posies be commended to al posterities. Wherefore it is sayd, that Achilles had never bene so famous, as he is, but for Homeres immortal verses: which is the only advantage which he had of Hector. And also that Alexander the Great, comming to his tombe in Sigeus, with naturall teares blessed him, that ever was his hap to be honoured with so excellent a poets work, as so renowmed and ennobled onely by hys meanes. Which being declared in a most eloquent oration of Tullies, is of Petrarch no lesse worthely sette forth in a sonet.
‘Giunto Alexandro a la famosa tomba
Del fero Achille, sospirando disse:
O fortunato, che si chiara tromba Trovasti,’ &c.
And that such account hath bene alwayes made of poetes, aswell sheweth this, that the worthy Scipio, in all his warres against Carthage and Numantia, had evermore in his company, and that in a most familiar sort, the good olde poet Ennius: as also that Alexander, destroying Thebes, when he was enformed, that the famous lyrick poet Pindarus was borne in that citie, not onely commaunded streightly, that no man should, upon payne of death, do any violence to that house, by fire or otherwise: but also specially spared most, and some highly rewarded, that were of hys kinne. So favoured he the only name of a poete. Whych prayse otherwise was in the same man no lesse famous, that when he came to ransacking of King Darius coffers, whom he lately had overthrowen, he founde in a little coffer of silver the two bookes of Homers works, as layd up there for speciall jewels and richesse, which he, taking thence, put one of them dayly in his bosome, and thother every night layde under his pillowe. Such honor have poetes alwayes found in the sight of princes and noble men: which this author here very well sheweth, as els where more notably.
But after. He sheweth the cause of contempt of poetry to be idlenesse and basenesse of mynd.
Pent, shut up in slouth, as in a coope or cage.
Tom Piper, an ironicall sarcasmus, spoken in derision of these rude wits, whych make more account of a ryming rybaud, then of skill grounded upon learning and judgment.
Ne brest, the meaner sort of men.
Her peeced pineons, unperfect skil. Spoken wyth humble modestie.
As soote as swanne. The comparison seemeth to be strange: for the swanne hath ever wonne small commendation for her swete singing: but it is sayd of the learned that the swan, a little before hir death, singeth most pleasantly, as prophecying by a secrete instinct her neere destinie. As wel sayth the poete elsewhere in one of his sonetts.
‘The silver swanne doth sing before her dying day,
As shee that feeles the deepe delight that is in death,’ &c.
Immortall myrrhour, Beauty, which is an excellent object of poeticall spirites, as appeareth by the worthy Petrarchs saying,
‘Fiorir faceva il mio debile ingegno,
A la sua ombra, et crescer ne gli affanni.’
A caytive corage, a base and abject minde.
For lofty love. I think this playing with the letter to be rather a fault then a figure, aswel in our English tongue, as it hath bene alwayes in the Latine, called Cacozelon.
A vacant imitateth Mantuanes saying, ‘vacuum curis divina cerebrum Poscit.’
Lavish cups resembleth that comen verse, ‘Fæcundi calices quem non fecere disertum?’
O if my. He seemeth here to be ravished with a poetical furie. For (if one rightly mark) the numbers rise so ful, and the verse groweth so big, that it seemeth he hath forgot the meanenesse of shepheards state and stile.
Wild yvie, for it is dedicated to Bacchus, and therefore it is sayd, that th
e Mænades (that is, Bacchus franticke priestes) used in theyr sacrifice to carry thyrsos, which were pointed staves or javelins, wrapped about with yvie.
In buskin. It was the maner of poetes and plaiers in tragedies to were buskins, as also in comedies to use stockes and light shoes. So that the buskin in poetry is used for tragical matter, as is said in Virgile, ‘Sola Sophocleo tua carmina digna cothurno.’ And the like in Horace, ‘Magnum loqui, nitique cothurno.’
Queint, strange. Bellona; the goddesse of battaile, that is, Pallas, which may therefore wel be called queint, for that (as Lucian saith) when Jupiter hir father was in traveile of her, he caused his sonne Vulcane with his axe to hew his head. Out of which leaped forth lustely a valiant damsell armed at all poyntes, whom seeing Vulcane so faire and comely, lightly leaping to her, proferred her some cortesie, which the lady disdeigning, shaked her speare at him, and threatned his saucinesse. Therefore such straungenesse is well applyed to her.
Æquipage, order.
Tydes, seasons.
Charme, temper and order: for charmes were wont to be made by verses, as Ovid sayth, ‘Aut si carminibus.’
EMBLEME.
Hereby is meant, as also in the whole course of this Æglogue, that poetry is a divine instinct and unnatural rage passing the reache of comen reason. Whom Piers answereth epiphonematicos, as admiring the excellency of the skyll, whereof in Cuddie hee hadde alreadye hadde a taste.
November
ÆGLOGA UNDECIMA
ARGUMENT
IN this xi. Æglogue he bewayleth the death of some mayden of greate bloud, whom he calleth Dido. The personage is secrete, and to me altogether unknowne, albe of him selfe I often required the same. This Æglogue is made in imitation of Marot his song, which he made upon the death of Loys the Frenche Queene: but farre passing his reache, and in myne opinion all other the Eglogues of this booke.
THENOT. COLIN.
The. Colin, my deare, when shall it please thee sing,
As thou were wont, songs of some jouisaunce?
Thy Muse to long slombreth in sorrowing,
Lulled a sleepe through loves misgovernaunce:
Now somewhat sing whose endles sovenaunce 5
Emong the shepeheards swaines may aye remaine,
Whether thee list thy loved lasse advaunce,
Or honor Pan with hymnes of higher vaine.
Col. Thenot, now nis the time of merimake,
Nor Pan to herye, nor with love to playe: 10
Sike myrth in May is meetest for to make,
Or summer shade, under the cocked haye.
But nowe sadde winter welked hath the day,
And Phæbus, weary of his yerely taske,
Ystabled hath his steedes in lowlye laye, 15
And taken up his ynne in Fishes haske.
Thilke sollein season sadder plight doth aske,
And loatheth sike delightes as thou doest prayse:
The mornefull Muse in myrth now list ne maske,
As shee was wont in youngth and sommer dayes. 20
But if thou algate lust light virelayes,
And looser songs of love, to underfong,
Who but thy selfe deserves sike Poetes prayse?
Relieve thy oaten pypes that sleepen long.
The. The nightingale is sovereigne of song, 25
Before him sits the titmose silent bee:
And I, unfitte to thrust in skilfull thronge,
Should Colin make judge of my fooleree.
Nay, better learne of hem that learned bee.
And han be watered at the Muses well: 30
The kindlye dewe drops from the higher tree,
And wets the little plants that lowly dwell.
But if sadde winters wrathe, and season chill,
Accorde not with thy Muses meriment,
To sadder times thou mayst attune thy quill, 35
And sing of sorrowe and deathes dreeriment:
For deade is Dido, dead, alas! and drent,
Dido, the greate shepehearde his daughter sheene:
The fayrest may she was that ever went,
Her like shee has not left behinde I weene. 40
And if thou wilt bewayle my wofull tene,
I shall thee give yond cosset for thy payne:
And if thy rymes as rownd and rufull bene
As those that did thy Rosalind complayne,
Much greater gyfts for guerdon thou shalt gayne 45
Then kidde or cosset, which I thee bynempt.
Then up, I say, thou jolly shepeheard swayne,
Let not my small demaund be so contempt.
Col. Thenot, to that I choose thou doest me tempt:
But ah! to well I wote my humble vaine, 50
And howe my rymes bene rugged and unkempt:
Yet, as I conne, my conning I will strayne.
Up, then, Melpomene, thou mournefulst Muse of nyne!
Such cause of mourning never hadst afore:
Up, grieslie ghostes! and up my rufull ryme! 55
Matter of myrth now shalt thou have no more:
For dead shee is that myrth thee made of yore.
Dido, my deare, alas! is dead,
Dead, and lyeth wrapt in lead:
O heavie herse! 60
Let streaming teares be poured out in store:
O carefull verse!
Shepheards, that by your flocks on Kentish downes abyde,
Waile ye this wofull waste of Natures warke:
Waile we the wight whose presence was our pryde: 65
Waile we the wight whose absence is our carke.
The sonne of all the world is dimme and darke:
The earth now lacks her wonted light,
And all we dwell in deadly night:
O heavie herse! 70
Breake we our pypes, that shrild as lowde as larke:
O carefull verse!
Why doe we longer live, (ah, why live we so long?)
Whose better dayes death hath shut up in woe?
The fayrest floure our gyrlond all emong 75
Is faded quite, and into dust ygoe.
Sing now, ye shepheards daughters, sing no moe
The songs that Colin made in her prayse,
But into weeping turne your wanton layes:
O heavie herse! 80
Now is time to die. Nay, time was long ygoe:
O carefull verse!
Whence is it that the flouret of the field doth fade,
And lyeth buryed long in winters bale:
Yet soone as spring his mantle doth displaye, 85
It floureth fresh, as it should never fayle?
But thing on earth that is of most availe,
As vertues braunch and beauties budde,
Reliven not for any good.
O heavie herse! 90
The braunch once dead, the budde eke needes must quaile:
O carefull verse!
She, while she was, (that was, a woful word to sayne!)
For beauties prayse and plesaunce had no pere:
So well she couth the shepherds entertayne 95
With cakes and cracknells and such country chere.
Ne would she scorne the simple shepheards swaine,
For she would cal hem often heame,
And give hem curds and clouted creame.
O heavie herse! 100
Als Colin Cloute she would not once dis-dayne.
O carefull verse!
But nowe sike happy cheere is turnd to heavie chaunce,
Such pleasaunce now displast by dolors dint:
All musick sleepes where Death doth leade the daunce, 105
And shepherds wonted solace is extinct.
The blew in black, the greene in gray, is tinct;
The gaudie girlonds deck her grave,
The faded flowres her corse embrave.
O heavie herse! 110
Morne nowe, my Muse, now morne with teares besprint.
O carefull verse!
O thou greate shepheard, Lobbi
n, how great is thy griefe!
Where bene the nosegayes that she dight for thee?
The colourd chaplets, wrought with a chiefe, 115
The knotted rushringes, and gilte rosemaree?
For shee deemed nothing too deere for thee.
Ah! they bene all yelad in clay,
One bitter blast blewe all away.
O heavie herse! 120
There of nought remaynes but the memoree.
O carefull verse!
Ay me! that dreerie Death should strike so mortall stroke,
That can undoe Dame Natures kindly course:
The faded lockes fall from the loftie oke, 125
The flouds do gaspe, for dryed is theyr sourse,
And flouds of teares flowe in theyr stead perforse.
The mantled medowes mourne,
Theyr sondry colours tourne.
O heavie herse! 130
The heavens doe melt in teares without remorse.
O carefull verse!
The feeble flocks in field refuse their former foode,
And hang theyr heads, as they would learne to weepe:
The beastes in forest wayle as they were woode, 135
Except the wolves, that chase the wandring sheepe,
Now she is gon that safely did hem keepe.
The turtle, on the bared braunch,
Laments the wound that Death did launch.
O heavie herse! 140
And Philomele her song with teares doth steepe.
O carefull verse!
The water nymphs, that wont with her to sing and daunce,
And for her girlond olive braunches beare,
Now balefull boughes of cypres doen advaunce: 145
The Muses, that were wont greene bayes to weare,
Now bringen bitter eldre braunches seare:
The Fatall Sisters eke repent
Her vitall threde so soone was spent.
O heavie herse! 150
Morne now, my Muse, now morne with heavie cheare.
O carefull verse!
O trustlesse state of earthly things, and slipper hope
Of mortal men, that swincke and sweate for nought,
And shooting wide, doe misse the marked scope: 155
Now have I learnd, (a lesson derely bought)
That nys on earth assuraunce to be sought:
Complete Works of Edmund Spenser Page 11