On a smooth level then itself doth lay,
Directly then, then obliquely doth creep,
Nor in the course keeps any certain stay ;
Till in the castle, in an odd by-place,
It casts the foul mask from its dusky face.
By which the king, with a selected crew,
Of such as he with his intent acquainted,
Which he affected to the action knew,
And in revenge of Edward had not fainted,
And to their utmost would the cause pursue,
And with those treasons that had not been tainted,
Adventur'd the labyrinth to assay,
To rouse the beast which kept them all at bay.
Long after Phœbus took his laboring team
To his pale sister, and resigned his place,
To wash his cauples in the open stream,
And cool the fervor of his glowing face;
And Phoebe, scanted of her brother's beam
Into the west went after him apace,
Leaving black darkness to possess the sky
To fit the time of that black tragedy.
What time by torch-light they attempt the cave,
Which at their entrance seemed in a fright,
With the reflection that their armor gave,
As it till then had ne'er seen any light;
Which striving there pre-eminence to have,
Darkness therewith so daringly doth fight,
That each confounding other, both appear
As darkness light, and light but darkness were.
The craggy cliffs, which cross them as they go,
Made as their passage they would have denied,
And threat'ned them their journey to foreslow,
As angry with the path that was their guide;
And sadly seem'd their discontent to show,
To the vile hand that did them first divide;
Whose cumbrous falls and risings seem'd to say,
So ill an action could not brook the day.
And by the lights, as they along were led,
Their shadows then them following at their back,
Were like to mourners carrying forth their dead,
And as the deed, so were they, ugly, black,
Or like to fiends that them had follow'd,
Pricking them on to bloodshed and to wrack:
Whilst the light look'd as it had been amazed,
At their deformed shapes, whereon it gazed.
Their clattering arms their masters seemed to chide,
As they would reason wherefore they should wound,
And struck the cave in passing on each side,
As they were angry with the hollow ground,
That it an act so pitiless should hide;
Whose stony roof locked in their angry sound,
And hanging in the creeks, drew back again,
As willing them from murder to refrain,
The night wax'd old (not dreaming of these things,)
And to her chamber is the queen withdrawn,
To whom a choice musician plays and sings,
Whilst she sat under an estate of lawn
In night-attire more god-like glittering,
Than any eye had seen the cheerful dawn,
Leaning upon her, most loved Mortimer,
Whose voice, more than the music pleased her ear.
Her loose hair look'd like gold (O word too base!
Nay, more than sin, but so to name her hair)
Declining, as to kiss her fairer face,
No word is fair enough for thing so fair,
Nor ever was there epithet could grace
That by much praising which we much impair ;
And where the pen fails, pencils cannot show it, Only the soul may be supposed to know it. She laid her fingers on his manly cheek, The God's pure scepters and the darts of Love, That with their touch might make a tiger meek, Or might great Atlas from his seat remove; So white, so soft, so delicate, so sleek, As she had worn a lily for a glove;
As might beget life where was never none,
And put a spirit into the hardest stone.
The fire of precious wood; the light perfume
Which left a sweetness on each thing it shone,
As every thing did to itself assume
The scent from them, and made the same their own;
So that the painted flowers within the room
Were sweet, as if they naturally had grown;
The light gave colors, which upon them fell,
And to the colors they perfume gave and smell.
When by that time, into the castle hall
Was rudely enter'd that well armed rout,
And they within suspecting naught at all
Had then no guard to watch for them without;
See how mischances suddenly do fall
And steal upon us, being farthest from doubt!
Our life's uncertain, and our death is sure,
And towards most peril, man is most secure.
Whilst youthful Nevil and brave Turrington
Tofthe bright queen that ever waited near,
Two with great March credit that had won
That in the lobby with the ladies were
Staying, delight whilst time away did run
With such discourse as women love to hear;
Charged on the sudden by the armed train
Were at their entrance miserably slain.
When as from snow-crown'd Skidow's lofty cliffs
Some fleet-wing'd haggard, tow'rds her preying hour
Amongst the teal and moor-bread mallard drives,
And the air of all her feather'd flock doth scow'r
Whilst to regain her former height she strives
The fearful fowl all prostrate to her power,
Such a sharp shriek did ring throughout the vault
Made by the women at the fierce assault.
No tales of them their thirst can slake
So much delight therein they take
And some strange thing they fain would make.
Knew they the way to do them.
Then since no muse hath been so bold,
Or of the latter or the old.
Those elvish secrets to unfold,
Which lie from others reading;
My active muse to light shall bring
The court of that proud Fairy King,
And tell there of the revelling;
Jove prosper my proceeding.
And thou, Nymphidia, gentle Fay,
Which meeting me upon the way,
These secrets didst to me bewray,
Which now I am in telling:
My pretty, light fantastic maid,
I here invoke thee to my aid,
That I may speak what thou hast said
In numbers softly swelling.
This palace standeth in the air
By necromancy placed there,
That it no tempests needs to fear
Which way soe'er it blow it:
And somewhat southward tow'rd the noon,
Whence lies a way up to the moon,
And thence the Fairy can as soon
Pass to the earth below it.
The walls of spider's legs were made
Well morticed 'and finely laid;
He was the master of his trade,
It curiously that builded:
The windows of the eyes of cats
And for the roof instead of slats,
Is covered with the skins of bats,
With moonshine that are gilded.
Gorbo, as thou cam'st this way
By yonder little hill,
Or, as thou through the fields did stray
Saw'st thou my Daffodil ?
She's in a frock of Lincoln green,
Which color likes her sight
And never hath her beauty seen
But through a veil of white,
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