Category: PART IV

¹

In Fame’s great library are records² placed;
What act’s not there, into oblivion’s³ cast.
There stand the shelves⁴ of time, where books do lie,
Which books are tied by chains of destiny.
The master of this place they Favor call,                               5
Where Care, the door-keeper, doth lock up all,
Yet not so fast, but Brib’ry in doth steal,⁵
Cozenage, Partiality—and truth not reveal.⁶
But bribery through all the world takes⁷ place,
And off’rings,⁸ as a bribe, in heaven find⁹ grace.              10
Then let not men disdain a bribe to take,
Since gods do blessings¹⁰ give for a bribe’s sake.

¹

The Fairy Queen’s large kingdom, got by birth,
Is in the midst and² center of the Earth,
Where there are many springs and running streams,
Whose waves do glister by the Queen’s bright beams,
Which makes them murmur as they pass away,                       5
Because by running round they cannot stay.
For³ they do ever move, and,⁴ like the sun,
Do constantly in circulation⁵ run,⁶
And as the sun gives heat to make things spring,
So water moisture gives to⁷ everything.                                   10
Thus⁸ these two elements give life to all,
Creating everything on th’Earth’s⁹ round ball.
And all along this liquid source doth flow,¹⁰
Stand myrtle trees, and banks where flowers grow.¹¹
’Tis true, there are no birds to sing sweet notes,                     15
But there are winds that whistle like birds’¹² throats,
Whose sounds and notes, by variation, oft
Make better music then the spheres aloft.
Nor is there any beast¹³ of cruel nature,
But a slow, crawling¹⁴ worm, a gentle creature,                     20
Who fears no hungry birds¹⁵ to pick him¹⁶ out,
But safely grasps¹⁷ the tender twigs about.
There mountains are of pure refinèd gold,
And rocks of diamonds, perfect to behold,
Whose brightness is a sun to all about,                                     25
Which glory makes Apollo’s beams keep out.
Quarries¹⁸ of rubies, sapphires there are store,
Crystals, and amethysts, and¹⁹ many more;
There polished pillars nat’rally²⁰ appear,
Where twining vines are clustered all the year.                     30
The axle-tree whereon the Earth turns round
Is one great diamond, by opinion found.
And the two ends, which we do call²¹ the poles,
Are pointed diamonds, turning in two holes,²²
Which holes are rings of pure refinèd gold,²³                         35
And all the weight of that vast world uphold,²⁴
Which makes the sun so seldom there appear,
For fear those rings should melt, if he came near.
And like²⁵ a wheel the elements are found,
In even lays, and many²⁶ turnings round.                                40
First, fire is in the²⁷ circle, as the spoke,
And then comes water; air is but²⁸ the smoke
Begot of both, for fire doth water boil,
And causes clouds and²⁹ smoke, which is the oil.
This smoky child sometimes is good, then bad,                       45
According to the nourishment it had.
The outward circle as the earth suppose,
Which is the surface where all plenty grows.³⁰
Yet³¹ Earth is not the cause of its self-turning,³²
But fire within; nor is there³³ fear of burning                         50
The axle-tree, for that grows hard with heat,
And by its quickness turns the wheel, though great,
Unless its outward weight do press it³⁴ down,
Raising the bottom,³⁵ bowing down the crown.
But³⁶ why this while am I so long of proving,                          55
Only³⁷ to show how this Earth still is moving?
And the heavens, as wheels, do turn³⁸ likewise,
As we do daily see before³⁹ our eyes.
Thus is made good the proverb, which doth say⁴⁰
That all the world on wheels doth run its way.⁴¹                    60
And by this⁴² turn such blasts of wind do blow,
As we may think they do like windmills⁴³ go.
But winds are made by Vulcan’s bellows sure,
Which makes the Earth such colics to endure,
For he, a smith, sits⁴⁴ at the forge below,                                  65
And is ordained⁴⁵ the center-fire to blow.
But Venus laughs to think what horns he wears,
Though on his shoulders half the Earth he bears.
Nature her metal makes him hammer⁴⁶ out,
Which she doth send⁴⁷ through mines the world about,      70
For he’s th’old man that doth i’th’center dwell,
She Proserpine, that’s thought the queen of hell.
Thus⁴⁸ Venus is a tinker’s wife, we see,
Not a goddess, as she was thought to be
When all the world to her did off’rings⁴⁹ bring,                     75
And her high praise in prose and verse did⁵⁰ sing,
And priests in orders on her altars tend,
And to her image all wise heads did⁵¹ bend.
But O vain ways, that mortal⁵² men did go
To worship gods, which themselves did⁵³ not know!            80
’Tis true, her son’s a pretty lad, and he⁵⁴
Doth wait as footboy on Queen Mab, whom she⁵⁵
Makes to enkindle fires, and set⁵⁶ up lights,
And keeps⁵⁷ the door for all the carpet-knights,⁵⁸
For when the queen is gone to bed asleep,⁵⁹                           85
Then a great⁶⁰ revel-rout the court doth keep.
Yet heretofore men did so strive⁶¹ to prove
That Cupid was the only god⁶² of love.
But if men could but⁶³ to the center go,
They soon would see that it were nothing so.                          90

Here Nature nurses, and doth send in⁶⁴ season
All things abroad, as she herself thinks⁶⁵ reason;
When she commands, all things do her obey,
Unless⁶⁶ her countermand some things do stay.
For she stays life, when drugs are well applied,⁶⁷                  95
And⁶⁸ healing balms to deadly wounds beside.⁶⁹
There Mab is queen of all by Nature’s will,
And by her favor she doth govern still.
O happy⁷⁰ Mab, that is in Nature’s grace,
For she is always young,⁷¹ being in this place.                        100
But leaving her,⁷² let’s go and see⁷³ the sport
That’s acted in the Queen of Fairy’s⁷⁴ court,⁷⁵

Where this Queen¹ Mab, and all her fairy fry²
Are dancing³ on a pleasant molehill high
To⁴ small straw pipes, wherein great⁵ pleasure
They take, and⁶ keep just time and measure.
All hand in hand, around, around,⁷                              5
They dance upon this fairy ground.
And when she leaves her dancing ball,⁸
She doth for her attendants call⁹
To wait upon her to¹⁰ a bower,
Where she doth sit under a flower                              10
To shade her from the moonshine bright,
Where gnats do sing for her delight.
Some high, some low, some middle¹¹ strain,
Making a consort very plain,
The whilst the bat doth fly about                                 15
To keep in order all the rout,
And with her wings doth soundly pay¹²
Those that make noise and not obey.¹³
She on a dewy leaf doth bathe,¹⁴
And as she sits, the leaf doth wave.¹⁵                          20
There, like a new-fallen flake of snow,¹⁶
Doth her white limbs in beauty show.¹⁷
Her garments fair her maids put on,¹⁸
Made of the pure light from the sun,
From whence such colors she inshades¹⁹                  25
In every object she invades.²⁰
Then to her dinner she goes straight,
Where all fairies²¹ in order wait,
And on a mushroom there is spread²²
A cover fine of spider’s web.²³                                      30
Her stool is of²⁴ a thistle-down,
And for her cup, an acorn’s crown,
Which of strong nectar full²⁵ is filled,
That from sweet flowers is distilled.
Flies of all sorts, both fat and good,                             35
As quails, snipes, partridge are²⁶ her food,
Pheasants, larks, cocks, or²⁷ any kind,
Both wild and tame, you there may²⁸ find,
And omelets²⁹ made of ants’ eggs new;
Of these high meats she eats but few.                          40
Her milk comes from the dormouse udder,³⁰
Making fresh cheese, cream, and butter;³¹
This milk makes³² many a fine knack,
When they fresh ants’ eggs therein crack.
Pudding and custard,³³ and seed-cake                        45
Her well-skilled³⁴ cook knows how to make.
To sweeten them, the bee doth bring
Pure honey, gathered by her sting.
But for her guard serves³⁵ grosser meat;
On stall-fed dormice³⁶ they do eat.                               50
When dined, she calls³⁷ to take the air
In coach, which is a nutshell fair;
The lining’s soft³⁸ and rich within,
Made of a glistering adder’s skin.
And there, six crickets draw her fast,                          55
When³⁹ she a journey takes in haste,
Or else two serve⁴⁰ to pace a round,
And trample on the fairy ground.
In hawks⁴¹ sometimes she takes delight,
Which hornets are, most⁴² swift in⁴³ flight,               60
Whose horns instead of talons will⁴⁴
A fly, as hawks a partridge, kill.⁴⁵
But if she will a-hunting go,
Then she the lizard makes the doe,
Which is⁴⁶ so swift and fleet in chase                         65
As her slow coach cannot keep⁴⁷ pace;
Then on grasshopper doth she⁴⁸ ride,
And gallop in the⁴⁹ forest wide.
Her bow is of a willow branch,
To shoot the lizard on the haunch;                              70
Her arrow sharp, much like a blade,
Of a rosemary leaf is made.
Then home she’s callèd by the cock,
Who gives her warning what’s o’clock,⁵⁰
And when the moon doth hide her head,                   75
Their day is done; she goes⁵¹ to bed.
Meteors do serve, when they are bright,
As torches do, to give her light.
Glow-worms, for candles lighted up,⁵²
Stand on her table while she⁵³ sup,                             80
And in her chamber they are placed,
Not fearing how the tallow waste.
But women, that inconstant kind,⁵⁴
Can ne’er fix in one place⁵⁵ their mind.
For she, impatient of long stay,⁵⁶                                  85
Drives to the upper Earth away.⁵⁷

This lovely sweet and beauteous Fairy Queen
Begins to rise when Hesperus¹ is seen,
For she is kin unto the god of night,
Unto² Diana, and the stars so bright,
And so to all the rest in some degrees,                                   5
Yet not so near relation as to these.
As for Apollo, she disclaims him quite,
And swears she ne’er will come within his light,
For they fell out about some foolish toy,
Where ever since in him she takes no joy.                           10
She says³ he always doth more harm than good,
If but⁴ his malice were well⁵ understood,
For he brings dearths by parching up the ground,
And sucks up water, that none can be found.
He makes poor men⁶ in fev’rish plagues to lie;                   15
His arrows hot make men⁷ and beasts to⁸ die.
So that to him she never will come near,
But hates to see when that⁹ his beams appear.
This makes the cock her notice give,¹⁰ they say,
That when he rises, she may go her way,                             20
And makes the owl her favorite to be,
Because Apollo’s face she hates to see.
For owls do sleep all day, and¹¹ in the night
They shout and hollo¹² that they’re out of sight.
So doth¹³ the glow-worm all day hide her¹⁴ head,             25
But lights her¹⁵ taper-tail, when he’s abed,
To wait upon the fairest Fairy Queen
Whilst she is sporting on the meadow green.¹⁶
Her pastime only is, when she’s on Earth,
To pinch the sluts, which make Hobgoblin mirth,             30
Or changes children while the nurses sleep,
Making the father rich, whose child they keep.
This Hobgoblin’s¹⁷ the Queen of Fairy’s fool,
Turning himself to horse, cow, tree, or stool,
Or anything to cross by harmless play,                                 35
As to lead¹⁸ travelers out of their way,
Or kick down pails of milk, cause cheese not¹⁹ turn,
Or hinder butter’s coming²⁰ in the churn,
Which makes the farmer’s wife to scold and fret
That she can neither cheese nor butter²¹ get,                     40
And then he doth hold up, as they do²² say,
Hens’ rumps, lest they their eggs too fast should²³ lay.
The good wife, sad, squats down upon a stool,²⁴
Not at all thinking it was Hob the fool,²⁵
And²⁶ frowning sits; then Hob gives her a²⁷ slip,               45
And down she falls, whereby she hurts her hip.
Thus many pranks doth Hob play²⁸ on our stage,
With his companion Tom Thumb,²⁹ the queen’s page,
Who doth like piece of fat in pudding lie,
And³⁰ almost chokes the eater, going awry.                        50
And when he’s down the guts, he³¹ wind blows out,
Putting the standers-by into a rout,
Thus³² shames the eater with a foul disgrace,
That never after dare he³³ show his face.
Besides, in many places puts himself,                                  55
In bags and budgets, as³⁴ a little elf,
To make his bearers start away with fear
To think that anything³⁵ alive is³⁶ there.
In this the Queen of Fairies takes delight,
In summer’s even, and in winter’s night,                            60
And when as³⁷ she is weary of these plays,
She takes her coach and goeth³⁸ on her ways
Unto her paradise, the center deep,
Where she the storehouse doth of Nature keep.³⁹

¹

The stately palace in which the Queen² dwells,
Its fabric’s built all³ of hodmandod shells.
The hangings, of a rainbow made⁴ that’s thin,
Show⁵ wondrous fine when one first enters⁶ in.
The chambers, made⁷ of amber that is⁸ clear,                        5
Do give a fine⁹ sweet smell, if fire be near.
Her bed, a cherry-stone, is carved¹⁰ throughout,
And with a butterfly’s wing hung about;
Her sheets are made of a dove’s eyes’ skin,¹¹
Her pillow a violet bud laid therein.¹²                                    10
The doors¹³ are cut all of¹⁴ transparent glass,
Where the queen may be seen when¹⁵ she doth pass;
These¹⁶ doors are locked up¹⁷ fast with silver pins,
And when she goes to sleep,¹⁸ our day begins.
Her time in pleasure she doth pass¹⁹ away,                           15
And will²⁰ do so until the world’s last day.

The four chief winds are giants, long¹ in length,
And as broad² set, and wondrous great in strength.
Their heads are more (as it doth clear³ appear)
Than all⁴ the months or seasons of the year.
Nay, some say more than all the days and⁵ nights,                    5
And some, they’re numberless and infinite.⁶

The first four heads are largest of them all;
The twelve are next, the thirty two but small,
The rest so little, and their breath so weak,
Their mouths so narrow that they hardly⁷ speak.                    10
These giants are so lustful and so wild,
As they by force do⁸ get the Earth with child,
And big she swells until the time of birth:⁹
Her bowels stretched, high bellied is the earth.¹⁰
Then doth she groan with grievous pains,¹¹ and shake,          15
Until she’s brought abed with her¹² earthquake.
This child of wind doth ruin all it¹³ meets,
Rends¹⁴ rocks and mountains like to paper sheets;
It swallows cities, and the heav’ns¹⁵ doth tear;
It threatens Jove, and makes the gods to fear.                            20

The North Wind’s cold; his nerves are¹⁶ dry and strong;
He pulls up oaks, and¹⁷ lays them all along.
In icy fetters he¹⁸ binds rivers fast,
Imprisons fishes in the¹⁹ ocean vast,
Plows up the seas, and hail for seed in flings,                             25
Whence²⁰ crops of overflows the tide in brings.
He drives the clouds in troops, which²¹ makes them run,
And blows as if he would put out²² the sun.

The Southern Wind, who is as fierce as he,
And to the Sun as great an enemy,                                               30
Doth raise²³ an army of thick clouds and mists,
With which he²⁴ thinks to do just as he lists,
Flinging²⁵ up waters to quench out his light,
And²⁶ in his face, black clouds to hide his sight.
But the bright²⁷ Sun cannot endure this scorn,                         35
And²⁸ doth them all in showers of rain²⁹ return.

The Western Wind, without ambitious ends,
Doth what he can to join and make them friends,
For he is of a nature sweet and mild,
And not so headstrong, rough, nor rude, nor³⁰ wild.               40
He’s soft to touch, and pleasant to the³¹ ear—
His voice sounds sweet and small, and very clear—
And makes hot love to young fresh buds that spring;³²
They give him sweets, which he through th’air doth fling,³³
Not through³⁴ dislike, but for to make them known,³⁵            45
As pictures are for beauteous faces shown.³⁶

But O, the Eastern Wind is³⁷ full of spite,
Diseases brings, which cruelly do bite;
He blasts young buds, and corn within the blade,³⁸
He rots the sheep; to men he brings the plague.³⁹                    50
Nay, he’s of such ill nature, that he would⁴⁰
Destroy the world with poison, if he could.⁴¹

¹

Lapland is the place from whence all winds come,²
From³ witches, not from caves, as do think some.⁴
For they do draw the air⁵ into high hills,
And beat it⁶ out again by certain mills,
Then sack it up, and sell it out for gain                             5
To mariners, which traffic on the main.

The sweat of th’Earth through porous holes¹ doth pass,
Which² is the dew that lies upon the grass,
Which³ (like a lover kind) the Sun wipes clean,
That her fair face may to the light be seen.
This water for her sake he so⁴ esteems,                                         5
That all the⁵ drops upon his silver beams
He threads, like ropes of pearls, which⁶ to his sphere
He draws and turns⁷ to crystal, when they’re there.
Yet,what he gathers, he cannot⁸ keep all,
But of those drops, some down again⁹ do fall,                            10
And then, when they upon her head do¹⁰ run,
He clouds his brows, as if he ill had¹¹ done.
For¹² lovers think they always do amiss,
Although those showers¹³ her refreshment is.
When she by sweat exhausted grows, and dry,                          15
Then doth the Sun moist clouds squeeze in the¹⁴ sky,
Or else he takes some of his sharpest beams
And breaks¹⁵ the clouds, from whence pour crystal streams.
Then th’Earth drinks too much, yet never reels¹⁶
Nor dizzy grows, although she sickness feels.¹⁷                         20

The garden, which¹ some Paradise do call,
Is placed just under² th’equinoctial.
Echoes there are most artificial made,
And cooling grottoes, from the heat to shade.
The azure sky is always bright and clear;                                5
No gross thick vapors in the clouds appear.
There many stars do comfort the sad night;
The fixed do twinkl’and³ with the rest give light.
No noise is heard, but what the ear delights;
No fruits are there, but what the taste invites.                      10
Up through the nose bruised flowers fume⁴ the brain,
As honeydew in balmy showers⁵ rain.
Various colors, by Nature intermixed,
Divert the eyes so, as none can be fixed.⁶
Here atoms small on sunbeams dance all day,                      15
While Zephyrus sweet doth on the air⁷ play,
Which music from Apollo bears the praise,
And Orpheus at its⁸ sound his harp down lays.
Apollo yields, and not contends with spite,
Presenting Zephyrus with twelve hours⁹ light.                     20
The¹⁰ night, though sad, in quiet pleasure takes,
With silence listens¹¹ when he music makes,
And when the day doth come, she’s grievèd so,¹²
That she cannot hear Zeph’rus longer¹³ blow,
And with her mantle black herself enshrouds,                     25
Which is embroidered all of stars in clouds.
Here are intermixing walks¹⁴ of pleasure,
Of grass, and sand, broad, short, and of all¹⁵ measure,
Some shaded for a¹⁶ lover’s musing thought,
When his mind is with love’s idea¹⁷ fraught.                         30
The walks all¹⁸ firm and hard as marble are,
Yet soft as down by grass that groweth there,
Where daisies grow as mushrooms in a night,
Mixed yellow, white, and¹⁹ green to please the sight.
At dawning day, the dew all overspreads²⁰                            35
In little drops upon those daisies’ heads;²¹
As thick as stars are set in heaven high,²²
So daisies on the earth as close do lie.
Here emerald banks are,²³ whence fine flowers spring,
Whose scents and colors various pleasures²⁴ bring:            40
Primroses, cowslips, violets, daffodillies,²⁵
Roses, honeysuckles,²⁶ and white lillies,
Wall-flowers, pinks, and marigolds besides,²⁷
Grow on the banks²⁸ enriched with Nature’s pride.
On other banks grow simples, which are good                      45
For med’cines,²⁹ well applied and understood.
There trees do grow, that³⁰ proper are, and tall,
Whose bark is³¹ smooth, and bodies sound withal,
Whose spreading tops are full, and ever green,
As Nazarites’ heads, where razors have³² not been,             50
And curlèd leaves, which bowing branches bear,
By warmth are fed, for winter ne’er comes there.
There fruits so pleasing³³ to the taste do grow
That³⁴ with delight the sense they³⁵ overflow,
And archèd arbors, where sweet birds do sing,                     55
Whose hollow rooves do make each echo ring.
Prospects, which trees and clouds by mixing show,³⁶
Joined by the eye, one perfect piece do grow.³⁷
Here fountains are, where trilling³⁸ drops down run,
Which twinkle as the stars, or as the³⁹ sun,                            60
And through each several spout such noise it makes,⁴⁰
As bird in spring when he his pleasure takes:⁴¹
Some chirping sparrow, and the singing lark,
Or quavering nightingale in evening dark,
The⁴² whistling blackbird, with the pleasant thrush,           65
Linnet, bullfinch, which sing in every bush.
No weeds are here, nor withered leaves, and dry,
But ever green and pleasant to the eye;
No frost to nip the tender buds in birth,⁴³
Nor winter snow to fall on this sweet earth.                          70
The beauty of the spring here ne’er doth waste,⁴⁴
Because ’tis just under th’equator placed.⁴⁵
The day and night by turns keep equal⁴⁶ watch,
That thievish time should nothing from them catch.
And every Muse a several walk enjoys,                                   75
The sad delights in⁴⁷ shades; the light employs⁴⁸
Her time in sports; satyrs⁴⁹ in corners lurk,
And as their gard’ners with great pains⁵⁰ do work:
They cut, graft, set, and sow, all with much skill,⁵¹
And gather fruits and flow’rs when th’Muses will,⁵²           80
And nymphs, as handmaids, their attendance give,
For which, by fame the Muses make them⁵³ live.

A shady grove, where trees¹ in equal space
Did grow, seemed like² a consecrated place.
Through spreading boughs the³ quivering light broke in,
Much like to glass or crystal shivered thin;
Those pieces small⁴ on a green carpet strewed,                        5
So in this wood the light all broken showed.
Yet⁵ this disturbèd light the grove did grace,
As sadness doth a fair and beauteous face.
And in the midst an ancient oak stood there,
Which heretofore did many offerings bear,⁶                            10
Whose branches all were hung with relics round,⁷
To show how many men the gods made sound,⁸
And for reward,⁹ long life the gods did give
Unto this oak, that he should aged¹⁰ live.
His younger years, when acorns he did bear,                           15
No dandruff moss, but fresh¹¹ green leaves grew there,
Which curled hung down¹² his shoulders, broad they spread;
His crown was thick, and bushy was his head,
His stature tall, full breasted, broad, and big,
His body round, and straight was every twig.                           20
But youth and beauty, which are shadows thin,
Do fade away as if they ne’er had been.
For all his fresh green leaves, and smooth moist rine¹³
Are quite worn off, and now grown bald with time,¹⁴
Whereas before, his arms fought with the wind,¹⁵                  25
And his bark did, like skin, his body bind.¹⁶
Where he all times and seasons firm could¹⁷ stand,
And ’gainst all blust’ring storms his face did bend,¹⁸
Yet now so weak and feeble he¹⁹ doth grow,
That every blast is apt him down to throw.                               30
His branches all are seared, his bark grown gray,
Most of his rine with time is peeled away.
The liquid sap, which from the root did spring,²⁰
And to each thirsty bough its food did bring,²¹
Is all drunk up; there is no moisture left;                                  35
The root is rotten, and the body²² cleft.
Thus time doth ruin, brings²³ all to decay,
Though to the gods we²⁴ still devoutly pray.
For this old oak was sacred to high²⁵ Jove,
Which was the king of all the gods above.                                 40
But gods, when they created all at first,²⁶
They did ordain all should return²⁷ to dust.