• And strait forth stalking with redoubled pace, For that I saw the night drew on so fast, In black all clad there fell before my face A piteous wight, whom woe had all forewaste : Forth from her eyes the crystal tears out-brast; And sighing sore, her hands she wrung and fold, Tare all her hair, that ruth was to behold. 'Her body small forewither'd and forespent, As is the stalk that summer's drought opprest: Her welked (wither'd) face with woeful tears besprent, Her colour pale, and as it seem'd her best, In woe and plaint reposed was her rest; And as the stone, that drops of water wears, So 'dented were her cheeks with fall of tears. •Her eyes swollen with flowing streams afloat, With doleful shrieks, that echo'd in the sky: I stood aghast, beholding all her plight; "Tween dread and dolour so distrain'd in heart, "Unwrap thy woes, whatever wight thou be, And stint (cease) betime to spill thyself with plaint : Tell what thou art, and whence; for well I see, Thou can'st not 'dure, with sorrow thus attaint." And with that word of sorrow' all forefaint She looked up, and prostrate as she lay, With piteous sound lo! thus she 'gan to say: "Alas! I wretch, whom thus thou see'st distrain'd Where Pluto, god of hell, so grisly black, Doth hold his throne, and Lethe's deadly taste Doth reve (take away) remembrance of each thing fore-past."" Under her guidance the poet goes first to the grisly lake,' intending subsequently to attend her 'unto the blissful place of rest;' and sees within the porch and jaws of Hell' Remorse of Conscience, Dread, Revenge, Misery, Care, Sleep, (-Small keep took he whom Fortune frowned on, 'And next in order sad Old Age we found, His beard all hoar, his eyes hollow and blind; With drooping chere (countenance) still poring on the ground, There heard we him, with brok'n and hollow plaint, 'But an the cruel Fates so fixed be, That time forepast cannot return again, This one request of Jove yet prayed he: That in such wither'd plight and wretched pain, 'As Eld (accompanied with his loathsome train) VOL. II. T Had brought on him, all were it woe and grief, 'He might awhile yet linger forth his life; 'And not so soon descend into the pit 'Where Death, when he the mortal corpse hath slain, • With retchless hand in grave doth cover it; 'Thereafter never to enjoy again 'The gladsome light, but in the ground ylain "In depth of darkness waste and wear to nought, As he had ne'er into the world been brought.' 'But who had seen him sobbing, how he stood Unto himself, and how he would bemoan 'Crook-back'd he was, tooth-shaken, and blear-eyed; Went on three feet, and sometime crept on four, With old lame bones that rattled by his side, His scalp all piled (bald) and he with eld forbore; His wither'd fist still knocking at Death's door, Trembling and drivelling as he draws his breathFor brief, the shape and messenger of Death. Next follow Malady, Famine (struck by Death) and War, with a copious and classical description of the subjects depainted on his targe.' By the help of Charon, they cross Acheron : 6 'Here puled the babes, and here the maids unwed, With folded hands their sorry chance bewail'd; 'We stay'd us strait, and with a rueful fear Beheld this heavy sight, while from mine eyes Look'd on with plaint, upheaving to the skies "Lo! here (said Sorrow) princes of renown, That whilom sat on top of Fortune's wheel; Even with one frown, that stay'd but with a smile! Then first came Henry, Duke of Buckinghamwho in his Complaint,' speaking of the guilty mind Turmoil'd, which never feeleth ease or stay, proceeds: "Well gave that judge his doom upon the death "To his two sons, that in his chamber layen, "He thought it could not be, that they which brake "Or dreadless breathe one breath out of their breast. "So gnaws the grief of conscience evermore, "And in the heart it is so deep ygrave, "That they may neither sleep nor rest therefor, "Nor think one thought but on the dread they have; "Still to the death foretossed with the wave "Of restless woe, in terror and despair, "They lead a life continually in fear. "Like to the deer that stricken with the dart, "Withdraws himself into some secret place: "And feeling green the wound about his heart "Startles with pangs, till he fall on the grass, "And in great fear lies gasping there a space; "Forth braying sighs, as though each pang had brought "The present death, which he doth dread so oft." &c.. |