: In green vine leaves he was right fitly clad; From under which fast trickled down the sweat: His drunken corse he scarce upholden can; Or this of Lechery : "And next to him rode lustfull Lechery When fairer faces were bid standen by: In a green gown he clothed was full fair, Inconstant man that loved all he saw, And lusted after all that he did love; But joyed weak women's hearts to tempt and prove, If from their loyal loves he might them move." This is pretty plain-spoken. Mr. Southey says of Spenser : Than pure was he, and not more pure than wise; On the contrary, no one was more apt to pry into mysteries which do not strictly belong to the Muses. Of the same kind with the Procession of the Passions, as little obscure, and still more beautiful, is the Mask of Cupid, with his train of votaries : "The first was Fancy, like a lovely boy His garment neither was of silk nor say, That by his gait might easily appear; And in his hands a windy fan did bear And him beside march'd amorous Desire, Who seem'd of riper years than the other swain, Yet was that other swain this elder's sire, And gave him being, common to them twain: His garment was disguised very vain, And his embroidered bonnet sat awry; Twixt both his hands few sparks he close did strain, That soon they life conceiv'd and forth in flames did fly. Next after him went Doubt, who was yclad In a discolour'd coat of strange disguise, That at his back a broad capuccio had, And sleeves dependant Albanese-wise; He lookt askew with his mistrustful eyes, And nicely trod, as thorns lay in his way, Or that the floor to shrink he did avise; And on a broken reed he still did stay His feeble steps, which shrunk when hard thereon he lay. With him went Daunger, cloth'd in ragged weed, Made of bear's skin, that him more dreadful made; Yet his own face was dreadfull, ne did need Strange horror to deform his grisly shade; A net in th' one hand, and a rusty blade In th' other was; this Mischiefe, that Mishap; With the one his foes he threat'ned to invade, With th' other he his friends meant to enwrap; For whom he could not kill he practiz'd to entrap. Next him was Fear, all arm'd from top to toe, 'Gainst whom he always bent a brazen shield, Which his right hand unarmed fearfully did wield. + With him went Hope in rank, a handsome maid, Of chearfull look and lovely to behold; In silken samite she was light array'd, And her fair locks were woven up in gold; She always smil'd, and in her hand did hold An holy-water sprinkle dipt in dew, With which she sprinkled favours manifold On whom she list, and did great liking shew, Great liking unto many, but true love to few. Next after them, the winged God himself Fair dame he might behold in perfect kind; Of which full proud, himself uprearing high, With that the darts which his right hand did strain, Tho, blinding him again, his way he forth did take." The description of Hope, in this series of historical portraits, is one of the most beautiful in Spenser; and the triumph of Cupid at the mischief he has made, is worthy of the malicious urchin deity. In reading these descriptions, one can hardly avoid being reminded of Rubens's allegorical pictures; but the account of Satyrane taming the lion's whelps and lugging the bear's cubs along in his arms while yet an infant, whom his mother so naturally advises to "go seek some other play-fellows," has even more of this high picturesque character. Nobody but Rubens could have painted the fancy of Spenser; and he could not have given the sentiment, the airy dream that hovers over it! With all this, Spenser neither makes us laugh nor weep. The only jest in his poem is an allegorical play upon words, where he describes Malbecco as escaping in the herd of goats, " by the help of his fayre horns on hight." But he has been unjustly charged with a want of passion and of strength. He has both in an immense degree. |