Page:Works of Edmund Spenser - 1857.djvu/393

Rh :“Ah! Colin, (then said Hobbinol) the blame Which thou imputest, is too generall, As if not any gentle wit of name Nor honest mynd might there be found at all. For well I wot, sith I my selfe was there, To wait on Lobbin, (Lobbin well thou knewest,) Full many worthie ones then waiting were, As ever else in princes court thou vewest. Of which, among you many yet remaine, Whose names I cannot readily now ghesse: Those that poore sutors papers do retaine, And those that skill of medicine professe, And those that do to Cynthia expound The ledden of straunge languages in charge: For Cynthia doth in sciences abound, And gives to their professors stipends large. Therefore uniustly thou doest wyte them all, For that which thou mislikedst in a few.”
 * “Blame is (quoth he) more blamelesse generall,

Then that which private errours doth pursew; For well I wot, that there amongst them bee Full many persons of right worthie parts, Both for report of spotlesse honestie, And for profession of all learned arts, Whose praise hereby no whit impaired is, Though blame do light on those that faultie bee; For all the rest do most what far amis, And yet their owne misfaring will not see: For either they be puffed up with pride, Or fraught with envie that their galls do swell, Or they their dayes to ydlenesse divide, Or drownded lie in pleasures wastefull well, In which like moldwarps nousling still they lurke, Unmindfull of chiefe parts of manlinesse; And do themselves, for want of other worke, Vaine votaries of laesie Love professe, Whose service high so basely they ensew, That Cupid selfe of them ashamed is, And, mustring all his men in Venus vew, Denies them quite for servitors of his.”
 * “And is Love then (said Corylas) once knowne

In court, and his sweet lore professed there? I weened sure he was our god alone, And only woond in fields and forests here?”
 * “Not so, (quoth he) Love most aboundeth there.

For all the walls and windows there are writ, All full of love, and love, and love my deare, And all their talke and studie is of it. Ne any there doth brave or valiant seeme, Unlesse that some gay mistresse badge he beares: Ne any one himselfe doth ought esteeme, Unlesse he swim in love up to the eares. But they of Love, and of his sacred lere, (As it should be) all otherwise devise, Then we poore shepheards are accustomd here, And him do sue and serve all otherwise. For with lewd speeches, and licentious deeds, His mightie mysteries they do prophane, And use his ydle name to other needs. But as a complement for courting vaine. So him they do not serve as they professe, But make him serve to them for sordid uses: Ah! my dread lord, that doest liege hearts possesse, Avenge thy selfe on them for their abuses. But we poore shepheards whether rightly so, Or through our rudenesse into errour led, Do make religion how we rashly go To serve that god, that is so greatly dred; For him the greatest of the gods we deeme, Borne without syre or couples of one kynd; For Venus selfe doth soly couples seeme, Both male and female through commixture ioyned: So pure and spotlesse Cupid forth she brought, And in the gardens of Adonis nurst: Where growing he his owne perfection wrought, And shortly was of all the gods the first. Then got he bow and shafts of gold and lead, In which so fell and puissant he grew, That love himselfe his powre began to dread, And, taking up to heaven, him godded new. From thence he shootes his arrowes every where Into the world, at randon as he will, On us fraile men, his wretched vassals here Like as himselfe us pleaseth save or spill. So we him worship, so we him adore With humble hearts to heaven uplifted hie That to true loves he may us evermore Preferre, and of their grace us dignifie: Ne is there shepheard, ne yet shepheards swaine, What ever feeds in forest or in field, That dare with evil deed or leasing vaine Blaspheme his powre, or termes unworthie yield.”
 * “Shepheard, it seemes that some celestiall rage

Of Love (quoth Cuddy) is breath’d into thy brest, That powreth forth these oracles so sage Of that high powre, wherewith thou art possest. But never wist I till this present day, Albe of Love I alwayes humbly deemed, That he wus such an one, as thou doest say, And so religiously to be esteemed. Well may it seeme, by this thy deep insight, That of that god the priest thou shouldest bee: So well thou wot’st the myterie of his might, As if his godhead thou didst present see.”
 * “Of Loves perfection perfectly to speake,

Or of his nature rightly to define, Indeed (said Colin) passeth reasons reach, And needs his priest t’ expresse his powre divine. For long before the world he was ybore, And bred above in Venus bosome deare: For by his powre the world was made of yore, And all that therein wondrous doth appeare. For how should else things so far from attone, And so great enemies as of them bee, Be ever drawne together into one And taught in such accordance to agree? Through him the cold began to covet heat, And water fire; the light to mount on hie, And th’ heavie downe to peize; the hungry t’ eat And voydnesse to seeke full satietie. So, being former foes, they wexed friends, And gan by litle learne to love each other: So, being knit, they brought forth other kynds Out of the fruitfull wombe of their great mother. Then first gan heaven out of darknesse dread For to appeare, and brought forth chearfull day: Next gan the earth to shew her naked head, Out of deep waters which her drownd alway: And, shortly after, everie living wight Crept forth like wormes out of her slimie nature. Soone as on them the sun’s life-giving light Had powred kindly heat and formall feature, Thenceforth they gan each one his like to love, And like himselfe desire for to beget: The lyon chose his mate, the turtle dove Her deare, the dolphin his owne dolphinet; But man, that had the sparke of reasons might More then the rest to rule his passion, Chose for his love the fairest in his sight, Like as himselfe was fairest by creation: