ΧΧΧΙΧ.

During the which there was an heavenly noise
Heard sownd through all the pallace pleasantly,
Like as it had bene many an angels voice
Singing before th' Eternall Maiesty,
In their trinall triplicities on hye:

Yett wist no creature whence that hevenly sweet
Proceeded, yet each one felt secretly
Himselfe thereby refte of his sences meet,
And ravished with rare impression in his sprite.

XL.

Great ioy was made that day of young and old,
And solemne feast proclaymd throughout the land,
That their exceeding merth may not be told:
Suffice it heare by signes to understand
The usuall ioyes at knitting of loves band.
Thrise happy man the Knight himselfe did hold,
Possessed of his Ladies hart and hand;
And ever, when his eie did her behold,
His heart did seeme to melt in pleasures manifold.

XLI.

Her ioyous presence, and sweet company,
In full content he there did long enioy ;
Ne wicked envy, ne vile gealosy,

His deare delights were hable to annoy :
Yet, swimming in that sea of blissfull ioy,
He nought forgott how he whilome had sworne,
In case he could that monstrous Beast destroy,
Unto his Faery Queene backe to retourne;
The which he shortly did, and Una left to mourne.

XLII.

Now, strike your sailes, yee iolly mariners,
For we be come unto a quiet rode,
Where we must land some of our passengers,
And light this weary vessell of her lode.
Here she a while may make her safe abode,
Till she repaired have her tackles spent,

And wants supplide; and then againe abroad
On the long voiage whereto she is bent :
Well may she speede, and fairely finish her intent!

[OUR poet having brought his vessel into harbour, to refit and repair; let us, like travellers, talk over the wonders we have seen, and the regions we have passed over of fable, mystery, and allegory.

However the wise, and the grave, may affect to despise wonderful tales; yet well related, with novelty and variety, they work upon the heart by secret charms and philters, and never fail both to surprise and to delight. But delight and entertainment are not all; for a good poet should instruct; not in the narration of particular facts, like an historian; but in exhibiting universal truths, as a philosopher: by showing the motives, causes, and springs of action; by bringing before your eyes TRUTH in her lovely form, and ERROR in her loathsome and filthy shape; DECEIT should be stripped, and HYPOCRISY laid open and, while wonderful stories and representations of visionary images engage the fancy, the poet should all along intend these only as initiations into the more sacred mysteries of morals and religion.

Lest you should object to the probability of his stories, the poet names the time, when these wonders were performed, viz. during the minority of Prince Arthur; and mentions the very persons who performed them; Prince Arthur, St. George, Sir Satyrane, Archimago, &c. nay, he points out the very places, wherein the adventures were achieved. If after so circumstantial a recital of time, place,

and persons, you will still not believe him, you must be enrolled, I think, among the very miscreants; for as to his wonderful tales of enchantments, witches, apparitions, &c. all this is easily accounted for by supernatural assist

ance.

This first book bears a great resemblance to a tragedy, with a catastrophe not unfortunate. The Redcrosse Knight and Una appear together on the stage; nothing seeming to thwart their happiness; but, by the plots and pains of Archimago, they are separated; hence suspicions and distresses: She with difficulty escapes from a lawless Sarazin and Satyrs, and he is actually made a prisoner by a merciless Giant: When unexpectedly Prince Arthur, like some god in a machine, appears, and releases the Knight; who becomes a new man, and with new joy is contracted to his ever-faithful Una.

If we consider the persons or characters in the drama, we shall find them all consistent with themselves, yet masterly opposed and contrasted: The simplicity and innocence of Una may be set in opposition to the flaunting falsehood of the Scarlet Whore: The pious Knight is diametrically opposite to the impious Sarazin: the sly hypocrite Archimago differs from the sophist Despair. And even in laudable characters, if there is a sameness, yet too there is a difference; as in the magnificence of Prince Arthur, in the plainness of the Christian Knight, and in the honest behaviour of Sir Satyrane.

How well adapted to their places are the paintings of the various scenes and decorations! Some appear horrible, as

the den of Error; Hell; the Giant; the cave of Despair; the Dragon, &c. : others terrible and wonderful, as the magical cottage of Archimago; the plucking of the bloody bough; the Sarazin's supernatural rescue and cure, &c.: others are of the pastoral kind, as the pleasing prospects of the woods, and diversions of the wood-born people, with old Sylvanus; or magnificent, as the description of Prince Arthur, and the solemnizing of the contract of marriage between the Knight and Una.

The scene lies chiefly in Fairy land, (though we have a view of the house of Morpheus, in the first canto, and of hell in the fifth,) and changes to the land of Eden, in the eleventh and twelfth cantos.

Should we presume to lift up the mysterious veil, wrought with such subtle art and ornament, as sometimes to seem utterly to hide, sometimes lying so transparent, as to be seen through; should we take off, I say, this fabulous covering; under it we might discover a most useful moral: The beauty of truth; the foulness of error; sly hypocrisy; the pride and cruelty of false religion; holiness completed in virtues; and the church, if not in its triumphant, yet in its triumphing, state. Spenser, in his letter to Sir W. R., tells us his poem is a continued allegory: Where therefore the moral allusion cannot be made apparent, we must seek (as I imagine) for an historical allusion; and always we must look for more than meets the eye or ear; the words carrying one meaning with them, and the secret sense another.

UPTON.]

When that lewd rybauld, with vyle lust advaunst,
Laid first his filthie hands on Virgin cleene,
To spoyle her dainty corps, so faire and sheene
As on the earth, great mother of us all,
With living eye more fayre was never seene
Of chastity and honour virginall:

Witnes, ye heavens, whom she in vaine to help did call!

XI.

"How may it be," sayd then the Knight halfe wroth, "That Knight should knighthood ever so have shent ?" [for troth, "None but that saw," quoth he, "would weene How shamefully that Mayd he did torment : Her looser golden lockes he rudely rent, And drew her on the ground; and his sharpe sword Against her snowy brest he fiercely bent, And threatned death with many a bloodie word; Tounge hates to tell the rest that eye to see abhord."

[act?

Therewith amoved from his sober mood, "And lives he yet," said he, "that wrought this And doen the heavens afford him vitall food?" "He lives," quoth he," and boasteth of the fact, Ne yet hath any Knight his crackt." courage "Where may that treachour then," sayd he, "be found,

Or by what meanes may I his footing tract?" "That shall I shew," said he, "as sure as hound The stricken deare doth chaleng by the bleeding wound."

XIII.

He stayd not lenger talke, but with fierce yre
And zealous haste away is quickly gone
To seeke that Knight, where him that crafty
Supposd to be. They do arrive anone [Squyre
Where sate a gentle Lady all alone,
With garments rent, and heare discheveled,
Wringing her handes, and making piteous mone:
Her swollen eyes were much disfigured,
And her faire face with teares was fowly blub-
bered.

XIV.

The Knight, approching nigh, thus to her said;
"Faire Lady, through fowle sorrow ill bedight,
Great pitty is to see you thus dismayd,
And marre the blossom of your beauty bright:
Forthy appease your griefe and heavy plight,
And tell the cause of your conceived payne;
For, if he live that hath you doen despight,
He shall you doe dew recompence agayne,
Or els his wrong with greater puissance main-
taine."

XV.

Which when she heard, as in despightfull wise
She wilfully her sorrow did augment,
And offred hope of comfort did despise :
Her golden lockes most cruelly she rent,
And scratcht her face with ghastly dreriment;

x. 3. When that lewd rybauld, with vyle lust advaunst,] Ribauld, Fr. A scoundrel, a ruffian. Advaunst here means driven forward, impelled, or hastened, Fr. avancé. TODD.

XL. 1. How may it be,] That is, How can it be. CHURCH. XII. 9. The stricken deare] The wounded deer. CHURCH. XIV. 5. Forthy] Therefore. TODD.

wayment] Bevail, lament. UPTON. ywis:] Certainly, or truly. TODD.