XLIV.

As Neptune's cistern draws in tribute tides,
(Yet never full) which every channel brings,
And thirsty drinks, and drinking, thirsty bides;
For by some hidden way, back to the springs
It sends the streams in erring conduits spread,'
Which, with a circling duty, still are led;
So ever feeding them, is by them ever fed.
XLV.

Ev'n so the first of these three counsellors,
Gives to the five the pow'r of all descrying;
Which back to him with mutual duty bears
All their informings, and the causes trying:
For through straight ways the nimble post ascends
Unto his hall; there up his message sends,
Which to the next well scann'd, he straightway recommends.
XLVI.

The next that in the castle's front is plac'd,

Phantastes* hight, his years are fresh and green;

His visage old, his face too much defac'd

With ashes pale; his eyes deep sunken been

1

With often thoughts, and never slack'd intention :
Yet he the fount of speedy apprehension,

Father of wit, the well of arts, and quick invention.
XLVII.

But in his private thoughts and busy brain

Thousand thin forms and idle fancies flit ;
The three-shap'd Sphinx; and direful Harpy's train;
Which in the world had never being yet;

Oft dreams of fire, and water; loose delight;
And oft arrested by some ghastly spright,

Nor can he think, nor speak, nor move, for great affright. *The fancy.

XLVIII.

Phantastes from the first all shapes deriving,
In new habiliments can quickly dight;
Of all material and gross parts depriving,
Fits them unto the noble prince's sight;

Which soon as he hath view'd with searching eye,
He straight commits them to his treasury,
Which old Eumnestes keeps, father of memory.
XLIX.

Eumnestes old, who in his living screen

(His mindful breast) the rolls and records bears
Of all the deeds, and men, which he hath seen,
And keeps lock'd up in faithful registers :
Well he recalls Nimrod's first tyranny;
And Babel's pride, daring the lofty sky;
Well he recalls the Earth's twice growing infancy.
L.

Therefore his body weak, his eyes half blind,

But mind more fresh and strong; (ah, better fate!)

And as his earcase, so his house declin'd;

Yet were the walls of firm and able state:

Only on him a nimble page attends,

Who when for aught the aged grandsire sends
With swift, yet hackward steps, his ready aidance lends
LI.

But let my song pass from these worthy sages
Unto this Island's highest *sovereign :
And those hard wars which all the year he wages:
For these three late a gentle +shepherd swain
Most sweetly súng, as he before had seen
In Alma's house: his memory yet green
Lives in his well tun'd songs; immortal all I ween.
+ Spenser.

The understanding.

LII.

Nor can

I guess, whether his Muse divine.

Or gives to those, or takes from them his grace;
Therefore Eumnestes in his lasting shrine

Hath justly him enroll'd in second place ; ̈ ̈
Next to our Mantuan poet doth he rest;

There shall our Colin live for ever blest, 'Spite of those thousand spites, which living, him oppress'd. LIII.

The prince his time in double office spends:
For first those forms and fancies he admits,
Which to his court busy Phantastes sends,
And for the easier discerning fits:

For shedding round about his sparkling light,
He clears their dusky shades, and cloudy night,
Producing like himself their shapes all shining bright.
LIV.

As when the Sun restores the glitt'ring day,
The world late cloth'd in night's black livery,
Doth now a thousand colours fair display,
And paints itself in choice variety;

Which late one colour hid, the eye deceiving:

All so this prince those shapes obscure receiving, With his suffused light makes ready to conceiving. LV.

This first, is call'd the active faculty,

Which to a higher pow'r the object leaves:

That takes it in itself, and cunningly

Changing itself, the object soon perceives :

For straight itself in self-same shape adorning.

Becomes the same with quick and strange transforming;

So is all things itself, to all itself conforming,

LVI.

Thus when the eye through Visus' jetty ports
Lets in the wand'ring shapes, the crystal strange
Quickly itself to ev'ry fort consorts,

So is whate'er it sees by wondrous change:

Thrice happy then, when on that *mirrour bright
He ever fastens his unmoved sight,

So is what there he views; divine, full, glorious light.
LVII.

Soon as the prince, these forms hath clearly seen,
Parting the false from true, the wrong from right,
He straight presents them to his beauteous queen,
Whose courts are lower, yet of equal might;

Voletta + fair, who with him lives, and reigns;

Whom neither man, nor fiend, nor God constrains : Oft good, oft ill, oft both, yet ever free remains.

LVII.

Not that great sovereign of the Fairy land,
Whom late our Colin hath eternized ;

(Though Graces decking her with plenteous hand,
Themselves of grace have all unfurnished;

Though in her breast she virtue's temple bare,
The fairest temple of a guest so fair) :

Nor that great Glorian's self, with this might e'er compare
LIX.

Her radiant beauty, dazzling mortal eye,

Strikes blind the daring sense; her sparkling face Her husband's self now cannot well descry:

With such strange brightness, such immortal grace, Hath that great parent in her cradle made, That Cynthia's silver cheek would quickly fade, And light itself to her, would seem a painted shade. Queen Elizabeth.

2 Corinthians, iii. 18.

†The Will.

LX.

But, ah! entic'd by her own worth and pride,
She stain'd her beauty with most loathsome spot;
Her Lord's fixt law, and spouse's light denied,
So fill'd her spouse and self with leprous blot :
And now all dark is their first morning ray.
What verse might then their former light display,
When yet their darkest night outshines the brightest day?
LXI.

On her a royal damsel still attends,

And faithful counsellor, *Synteresis : For though Voletta ever good intends, Yet by fair ills she oft deceived is;

But ills so fairly dress'd with cunning slight, That virtue's self they well may seem to sight, But that bright virtue's self oft seems not half so bright. LXII.

Therefore Synteresis of nimble sight,

Oft helps her doubtful hand, and erring eye; Else mought she ever, stumbling in this night, Fall down as deep as deepest Tartary.

Nay, thence a sad fair maid, Repentance, rears, And in her arms her fainting lady bears, Washing her often stains with ever-falling tears. LXIII.

Thereto she adds a water sovereign,

Of wondrous force, and skilful composition:

For first she pricks the heart in tender vein;

Then from those precious drops, and deep contrition, With lips' confession, and with bitter cries,

Still'd in a broken spirit, sad vapours rise, Exhal'd by sacred fires, and drop through melting eyes.

*Conscience.
N