For thee (they cry'd) amidst alarms and ftrife,
We fail'd in tempefts down the ftream of life;
For thee whole nations fill'd with flames and blood.
And swam to empire through the purple flood.
Thofe ills we dar'd, thy inspiration own;
What virtue feem'd was done for thee alone.
Ambitious fools! (the queen reply'd, and frown'd)
Be all your acts in dark oblivion drown'd; 351
There fleep forgot, with mighty tyrants gone,
Your ftatues moulder'd, and your names unknown!
A fudden cloud ftraight fnatch'd them from my
fight,

And each majestic phantom funk in night.

Then came the fmallest tribe I yet had feen; Plain was their dress, and modeft was their mien. Great idol of mankind! we neither claim The praise of merit, nor aspire to fame!

Ours is the place at banquets, balls, and plays;
Sprightly our nights, polite are all our days;
Courts we frequent, where 'tis our pleasing care
To pay due vifits, and addrefs the fair :
In fact, 'tis true, no nymph we could perfuade,
But ftill in fancy vanquish'd every maid;
Of unknown ducheffes lewd tales we tell,
Yet, would the world believe us, all were well.
The joy let others have, and we the name, 389
And what we want in pleasure, grant in fame.

The queen affents, the trumpet rends the skies, And at each blaft a lady's honour dies. [preft Pleas'd with the ftrange fuccefs, vaft numbers Around the fhrine, and made the fame request: What you (the cry'd), unlearn'd in arts to please, Slaves to yourselves, and even fatigued with cafe, Who lofe a length of undeferving days,

400

And live there men, who flight immortal fame? Who then with incenfe fhall adore our name? But, mortals! know, 'tis ftill our greatest pride, To blaze those virtues which the good would hide. Rife! muses, rife! add all your tuneful breath; 370 These must not fleep in darkness and in death. She faid in air the trembling mufic floats, And on the winds triumphant fwell the notes; So foft, though high, fo loud, and yet fo clear, Ev'n liftening angels lean from heaven to hear: To farthest shores th' ambrofial spirit flies, Sweet to the world, and grateful to the skies. Next these a youthful train their vows exprefs'd, With feathers crown'd, with gay embroidery drefs'd:

Hither, they cry'd, direct your eyes, and fee 380 The men of pleasure, drefs, and gallantry;

To juft contempt, ye vain pretenders, fall,
The people's fable, and the fcorn of all.
Straight the black clarion sends a horrid found,
Loud laughs burft out, and bitter fcoffs fly round,
Whispers are heard, with taunts reviling loud,
And fcornful hiffes run through all the crowd.

Laft, those who boaft of mighty mifchiefs done,
Enslave their country, or ufurp a throne;
Or who their glory's dire foundation lay'd
On fovereigns ruin'd, or on friends betray'd;
Calm, thinking villains, whom no faith could
fix,

Of crooked counfels and dark politics;

410

Of these a gloomy tribe surround the throne, And beg to make th' immortal treasons known. i ne trumpet roars, long flaky flames expire, With sparks that feem'd to fet the world on fire. At the dread found, pale mortals stood aghaft, And ftartled nature trembled with the blaft. This having heard and feen, fome power unknown [the throne. Straight chang'd the scene, and fnatch'd me from

IMITATIONS.

Ver. 356. Then came the fmalleft, &c.]
I faw anone the fifth route,
That to this lady gan loute,
And downe on knees anone to fall,
And to her they befoughten all,
To hiden their good works eke.
And faid, they yeve not a leke
For no fame ne fuch renowne;
For they for contemplacyoune,
And Goddes love had it wrought,
Ne of fame would they ought.

What, quoth fhe, and he ye wood?
And ween ye for to do good,
And for to have it of no fame?
Have ye defpite to have my name?
Nay ye fhall lien everichone:
Blow thy trump, and that anone
(Quoth the) thou Eolus, I hote,
And ring thefe folks works by rote,
That all the world may of it heare;

IMITATIONS.

In his golden clarioune,

Through the world went the fonne,
All fo kindly, and eke fo foft,

That ther fame was blown aloft.

Ver. 406. Laft, those who boast of mighty, &c.] Tho came another. companye,

That had y-done the treachery, &c.

Ver. 418. This having heard and feen. &c.] The scene here changes from the Temple of Fame, to that of Rumour, which is almost entirely Chaucer's. The particulars follow.

Tho faw I ftonde in a valey,
Under the castle fast by
A houfe, that Domus Dedali
That Labyrinthus cleped is,
Nas made fo wonderly I wis,
Ne half fo queintly y-wrought!
And evermo as swift as thought,
This queint house about went,
That never more it ftill ftent-
And eke this house hath of entrees,

Before my view appear'd a ftructure fair,
Its fite uncertain, if in earth or air;
With rapid motion turn'd the mansion round;
With ceaseless noise the ringing walls refound:
Not lefs in number were the fpacious doors,
Than leaves on trees, or fands upon the fhores;
Which ftill unfolded ftand, by night, by day,
Pervious to winds, and open every way.
As flames by nature to the fkies afcend,
As weighty bodies to the centre tend,
As to the fea returning rivers roll,

And the touch'd needle trembles to the pole;
Hither as to their proper place, arise

420

430

All various founds from earth, and feas, and skies,
Or fpoke aloud, or whisper'd in the ear;
Nor ever filence, reft, or peace, is here.
As on the smooth expanse of crystal lakes
The finking ftone at first a circle makes;
The trembling furface, by the motion ftirr'd,
Spreads in a fecond circle, then a third;

Wide, and more wide, the floating rings ad

Fill all the watery plain, and to the margin dance :
Thus every voice and found, when first they break,
On neighbouring air a soft impreffion make;
Another ambient circle then they move;
That, in its turu, impels the next above;
Through undulating air the founds are fent,
And spread o'er all the fluid element.

There various news I heard of love and ftrife, Of peace and war, health, sickness, death, and life, Of lofs and gain, of famine and of store,

450

Of ftorms at fea, and travels on the shore,
Of prodigies, and portents feen in air,
Of fires and plagues, and stars with blazing hair,
Of turns of fortune, changes in the state,
The falls of favourites, projects of the great,
Of old mifmanagements, taxations new:
All neither wholly falfe, nor wholly true.

IMITATIONS.

In fummer, when they ben grene;
And in the roof yet men may fene
A thousand hoels and well mo
To letten the foune out-go;
And by day in every tide,
Ben all the doors open wide,
And by night each one unfhet;
No porter is there one to let,
No manner tydings in to pace:
Ne never re is in that place.

Ver. 448. There various news I heard, &c.]
Of werres, of peace, of marriages,
Of reft, of labour, of voyages,
Of abode, of dethe, and of life,
Of love and hate, accord and ftrife,
Of lofs, of lore, and of winnings,
Of hele, of fickness, and leffings,
Of divers tranfmutations,
Of eftates and eke of regions,
Of truft, of dred, of jealousy,
Of wit, of winning, and of folly,
Of good, or bad government,

460

Above, below, without, within, around, Confus'd, unnumber'd multitudes are found, Who pafs, repafs, advance, and glide away; Hofts rais'd by fear, and phantoms of a day : Aftrologers, that future fates forefhew, Projectors, quacks, and lawyers not a few; And priests, and party zealots, numerous bands With home-born lies, or tales from foreign lands s Each talk'd aloud, or in fome fecret place, And wild impatience star'd in every face. The flying rumours gather'd as they roll'd, Scarce any tale was fooner heard than told; And all who told it added fomething new, 470' And all who heard it made enlargements too, In every ear it spread, on every tongue it grew, Thus flying caft and weft, and north and fouth, News travell'd with increase from mouth to mouth. So from a fpark, that kindled first hy chance, With gathering force the quickening flames ad

vance;

Till to the clouds their curling heads aspire,
And towers and temples fink in floods of fire.

When thus ripe lies are to perfection sprung, Full grown, and fit to grace a mortal tongue, 480 Through thousand vents, impatient, forth they flow,

And rush in millions on the world below,

Fame fits aloft, and points them out their course,
Their date determines, and prefcribes their forces
Some to remain, and fome to perish foon;
Or wane and wax alternate like the moon.
Around, a thousand winged wonders fly,
Borne by the trumpet's blast, and scatter'd through
the sky.

There, at one paffage, oft you might survey
A lie and truth contending for the way;

IMITATIONS.

490

Ver. 458. Above, below, without, within, &c.]
But fuch a grete congregation
Of folke as I faw roame about,
Some within, and fome without,
Was never feen, ne fhall be eft-
And every wight that I faw there
Rowned everich in others ear
A new tyding privily,

Or elfe he told it openly

Right thus, and said, Knowst not thou
That is betide to-night now?

No, quoth he, tell me what?

And then he told him this and that, &c.

-Thus north and fouth

Went every tyding from mouth to mouth.
And that encreasing evermo,

As fire is wont to quicken and go
From a fparkle fprong amifs,
Till all the citee brent up is.
Ver. 489. There, at one paffage, &c.]
And fometime I faw there at once,
A leifing and a fad footh faw
That gonnen at adventure draw
Out of a window forth to pace-

And no man, be he ever fo wrothe,

But fix'd before, and well resolv'd was he; (As men that ask advice are wont to be).

My friends, he cry'd (and cast a mournful look Around the room, and figh'd before he spoke); Beneath the weight of threefcore years I bend, And worn with cares, and haftening to my end; How I have liv'd, alas! you know too well, In worldly follies, which I blufh to tell; But gracious heaven has ope'd my eyes at last, With due regret I view my vices past, And, as the precept of the church decrees, Will take a wife, and live in holy ease. But, fince by counsel all things fhould be done, And many heads are wifer ftill than one; Choose you for the, who beft shall be content When my defire's approv'd by your confent.

One caution yet is needful to be told,

To guide your choice; this wife must not be old:
There goes a faying, and 'twas fhrewdly faid,
Old fish at table, but young flesh in bed.
My foul abhors the tasteleis, dry embrace
Of a tale virgin with a winter face:

In that cold feafon love but treats his guest
With bean-ftraw, and tough forage at the best.
No crafty widows fhall approach my bed;
Thofe are too wife for bachelors to wed;
As fubtle clerks by many schools are made,
Twice marry'd dames are mistreffes o' th' trade:
But young and tender virgins, rul'd with cafe,
We form like wax, and mould them as we please.
Conceive me, Sirs, nor take my sense amiss;
'Tis what concerns my foul's eternal bliss:
Since if I found no pleasure in my spouse,
As flesh is frail, and who (God help me) knows?
Then fhould I live in lewd adultery,
And fink downright to Satan when I die.
Or were I curs'd with an unfruitful bed,
The righteous end were loft, for which I wed;
To raife up feed to blefs the powers above,
And not for pleasure only, or for love
Think not I doat: 'tis time to take a wife,
When vigorous blood forbids a chafter life;
Thofe that are bleft with ftore of grace divine,
May live like faints, by heaven's confent and mine.
And fince I speak of wedlock, let me fay,
(As, thank my stars, in modest truth I may)
My limbs are active, still I'm found at heart,
And a new vigour fprings in every part.
Think not my virtue loft, though time has shed
Thefe reverend honours on my head;

Thus trees are crown'd with bloffoms white as (now,

The vital sap then rifing from below :
Old as I am, my lufty limbs appear
Like winter greens, that flourish all the year.
Now, Sirs, you know to what I ftand inclin'd,
Let every friend with freedom speak his mind.
He faid; the reft in different parts divide;
The knotty point was urg'd on either fide:
Marriage, the theme on which they all declaim'd,
Some prais'd with wit, and fome with reafon blam'd;
Till, what with proofs, objections, and replies,
Each wondrous pofitive, and wondrous wife,
There fell between his brothers a debate,
Placebo this was call'd, and Justin that.

First to the knight Placebo thus begun (Mild were his looks, and pleafing was his tone): Such prudence, Sir, in all your words appears, As plainly proves, experience dwells with years! Yet you purfue fage Solomon's advice, To work by counsel when affairs are nice: But, with the wife man's leave, I must proteft, So may my foul arrive at eafe and reft As ftill I hold your own advice the best.

Sir, I have liv'd a courtier all my days,

And study'd men, their manners, and their ways;
And have obferv'd this useful maxim still,
To let my betters always have their will.
Nay, if my lord affirm'd that black was white,
My word was this, Your honour's in the right.
Th' affuming wit, who deems himself so wife,
As his mistaken patron to advise,

Let him not dare to vent his dangerous thought,
A noble fool was never in a fault.

This, Sir, affects not you, whofe every word
Is weigh'd with judgment, and befits a lord:
Your will is mine; and is (I will maintain)
Pleafing to God, and fhould be fo to man!
At least, your courage all the world must praife,
Who dare to wed in your declining days.
Indulge the vigour of your mounting blood,
And let grey fools be indolently good,
Who, past all pleasure, damn the joys of fenfe,
With reverend dulnefs, and grave impotence.
Juftin, who filent fat, and heard the man,
Thus, with a philofophic frown, began.

A heathen author of the first degree,
(Who, though not faith, had fenfe as well as we).
Bids us be certain our concerns to trust
To thofe of generous principles and juft.
The venture's greater, I'll prefume to fay,
To give your perfon, than your goods away;
And therefore, Sir, as you regard your reft,
First learn your lady's qualities at least :
Whether fhe's chafte or rampant, proud or civil,
Meek as a faint, or haughty as the devil;
Whether an easy, fond, familiar fool,
Or fuch a wit as no man e'er can rule.
'Tis true, perfection none must hope to find
In all this world, much lefs in womankind;
But if her virtues prove the larger fhare,
Blefs the kind fates, and think your fortune rare.
Ah, gentle Sir, take warning of a friend,
Who knows too well the ftate you thus commend;
Aud, fpite of all his praises, muft declare,
All he can find is bondage, coft, and care.
Heaven knows, I fhed full many a private tear,
And figh in filence, left the world fhould hear!
While all my friends applaud my blifsful life,
And fwear no mortal's happier in a wife;
Demure and chaste as any veftal nun,
The meekeft creature that beholds the fun!
But, by th' immortal powers, I feel the pain,
And he that marts has reafon to complain.
Do what ye lift, for me; you must be fage,
And cautious fure; for wifdom is in age:
But at thefe years, to venture on the fair;
By him who made the ocean, carth, and air,
To please a wife, when her occafions call,
Would bufy the most vigorous of us all

And trust me, Sir, the chafteft you can choose
Will afk obfervance, and exact her dues.
If what I fpeak my noble lord offend,
My tedious fermon here is at an end.

'Tis well, 'tis wond'rous well, the knight replies,

Moft worthy kinsman, faith you're mighty wife!
We, Sirs, are fools, and must resign the cause
To heathenifh authors, proverbs, and old faws.
He spoke with fcorn, and turn'd another way :-
What does my friend, my dear Placebo say?

I fay, quoth he, by heaven the man's to blame,
To flander wives, and wedlock's holy name.
At this the council rofe, without delay;
Each, in his own opinion, went his way;
With full confent, that, all difputes appeas'd,
The knight fhould marry, when and where he
pleas'd.

Who now but January exults with joy? The charms of wedlock all his foul employ; Each nymph by turns his wavering mind poffeft, And reign'd the short-liv'd tyrant of his breaft; While fancy pictur'd every lively part, And each bright image wander'd o'er his heart. Thus, in fome public forum fix'd on high, A mirror fhews the figures moving by; Still one by one, in swift fucceffion, pass 'The gliding fhadows o'er the polish'd glass. This lady's charms the nicest could not blame. But vile fufpicions had afpers'd her fame; That was with sense, but not with virtue bleft; And one had grace that wanted all the reft. Thus doubting long what nymph he should obey, He fix'd at laft upon the youthful May. Her faults he knew not, Love is always blind, But every charm revolv'd within his mind: Her tender age, her form divinely fair, Her eafy motion, her attractive air, Her sweet behaviour, her enchanting face, Her moving softness, and majestic grace.

Much in his prudence did our knight rejoice, And thought no mortal could difpute his choice: Once more in hafte he summon'd every friend, And told them all, their pains were at an end. Heaven, that (faid he) inspir'd me first to wed, Provides a confort worthy of my bed: Let none oppofe th' election, fince on this Depends my quiet, and my future bliss.

A dame there is, the darling of my eyes, Young, beauteous, artlefs, innocent, and wife; Chaste, though not rich; and, though not nobly

born,

Of honeft parents, and may ferve my turn.
Her will I wed, if grácious Heaven so please,
To pass my age in fanctity and ease;
And thank the powers, I may poffefs alone
The lovely prize, and fhare my bliss with none!
If you, my friends, this virgin can procure,
My joys are full, my happiness is fure.

One only doubt remains: Full oft I've heard,
By cafuifts grave, and deep divines averr'd,
That 'tis too much for human race to know
The blifs of heaven above, and earth below.
Now thould the nuptial pleasures prove fo great,

Those endless joys were ill-exchang'd for thefe ; Then clear this doubt, and fet my mind at eafe.

}

This Juftin heard, nor could his spleen controul, Touch'd to the quick, and tickled at the foul. Sir Knight, he cry'd, if this be all you dread, Heaven put it past your doubt, whene'er you wed; And to my fervent prayers fo far consent, That, ere the rites are o'er, you may repent! Good Heaven, no doubt, the nuptial state approves, Since it chastises still what beft it loves. Then be not, Sir, abandon'dto despair; Seek, and perhaps you'll find among the fair. One that may do your business to a hair; Not ev'n in wifh, your happiness delay, But prove the scourge to lafh you on your way: Then to the skies your mounting foul fhall go, Swift as an arrow foaring from the bow! Provided ftill you moderate your joy, Nor in your pleasures all your might employ, Let reason's rule your strong defires abate, Nor please too lavishly your gentle mate. Old wives there are, of judgment most acute, Who folve thofe queftions beyond all difpute; Confult with those, and be of better cheer; Marry, do penance, and dismiss your fear.

So faid, they rofe, nor more the work delay'd; The match was offer'd, the proposals made. The parents, you may think, would foon comply, The old have intereft ever in their eye. Nor was it hard to move the lady's mind ; When fortune favours, ftill the fair are kind.

I pafs each previous fettlement and deed, Too long for me to write, or you to read; Nor will with quaint impertinence display The pomp, the pageantry, the proud array. The time approach'd, to church the parties went, At once with carnal and devout intent : Foth came the priest, and bade th' obedient wife Like Sarah or Rebecca lead her life; Then pray'd the powers the fruitful bed to blefs, And made all fure enough with holiness.