Great idol of mankind! we neither claim
The praise of merit, nor aspire to fame!
But fafe in defarts from th' applause of men,
Would die unheard of, as we liv'd unseen.
*Tis all we beg thee, to conceal from fight
Those acts of goodness, which themselves requite.
O let us still the secret joy partake,
To follow virtue ev'n for virtue's fake.
And live there men who flight immortal fame? Who then with incense shall adore our name?
To hiden their good workes eke;
And said, 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 she, and be ye wood?
And ween ye for to do good,
And for to have of it no fame?
Have ye despite to have my name?
Nay ye shall lien everichone :
Blowe thy trump, and that anone
(Quoth she) thou Eolus, I hote,
And ring these folkes workes by rote,
That all the world may of it heare ;
And he gan blow their loos so cleare,
In his golden clarioune,
Through the world went the foune,
All so kindly, and eke so foft,
That their fame was blowen aloft.
But mortals! know, 'tis still our greatest pride
To blaze those virtues which the good would hide.
Rife! Muses, rise, add all your tuneful breath,
These must not sleep in darkness and in death.
She said: in air the trembling music floats,
And on the winds triumphant swell the notes;
So soft, tho' high, so loud, and yet so clear,
Ev'n list'ning Angels lean'd from heav'n to hear: 375
To farthest shores th' Ambrofial spirit flies,
Sweet to the world, and grateful to the skies.
Next these a youthful train their vows express'd, With feathers crown'd, with gay embroidery dress'd; Hither, they cry'd, direct your eyes, and fee The men of pleasure, dress, and gallantry; 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 address the fair: In fact, 'tis true, no nymph we could perfuade, But still in fancy vanquish'd ev'ry maid; Of unknown Duchesses leud tales we tell, Yet would the world believe us, all were well.
VER. 378. Next these a youthful train, &c.] The reader may compare these twenty eight lines following, which contain the same matter with eighty four of Chaucer, beginning thus,
Tho came the fixth companye, And gan fafte to Fame crye, &c. being too prolix to be here inserted.
The joy let others have, and we the name,
And what we want in pleasure, grant in fame.
The Queen affents, the trumpet rends the skies,
And at each blast a Lady's honour dies.
Pleas'd with the strange success, vast numbers prest Around the shrine, and made the fame request : What you (she cry'd) unlearn'd in arts to please, Slaves to yourselves, and ev'n fatigu'd with ease, Who lose a length of undeserving days, Would you ufurp the lover's dear-bought praise? To just contempt, ye vain pretenders, fall, The people's fable, and the scorn of all, Strait the black clarion fends a horrid found, Loud laughs burst out, and bitter scoffs fly round, Whispers are heard, with taunts reviling loud, And scornful hisses run thro' all the croud.
Last, those who boast of mighty mischiefs done,
Enslave their country, or ufurp a throne;
Or who their glory's dire foundation lay'd
On Sov'reigns ruin'd, or on friends betray'd :
Calm, thinking villains, whom no faith could fix, 410
Of crooked counsels and dark politicks;
Of these, a gloomy tribe furround the throne,
And beg to make th' immortal treasons known.
The trumpet roars, long flaky flames expire,
With sparks, that feem'd to fet the world on fire. 415
VER. 406. Last, those who boast of mighty, &c.]
Tho came another companye,
That had y-done the treachery, &c.
At the dread found, pale mortals stood aghaft,
And startled nature trembled with the blast.
This having heard and feen, some pow'r unknown Strait chang'd the scene, and snatch'd me from the throne. Before my view appear'd a structure fair, Its fite uncertain, if in earth or air;
VER. 418. Thus 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 saw I stonde in a valey,
Under the castle fast by
A house, that Domus Dedali
That Labyrinthus cleped is,
Nas made fo wonderly, I wis,
Ne half so queintly y-wrought;
And evermo, as fwift as thought,
This queint house about went,
That nevermore it still stent-
And eke this house hath of entrees
As many as leaves are on trees,
In fummer, when they ben grene;
And in the roof yet men may fene
A thousand holes 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 unshet;
No porter is there one to let,
No maner tydings in to pace;
Ne never rest is in that place.
With rapid motion turn'd the manfion round;
With ceaseless noise the ringing walls resound :
Not less in number were the spacious doors,
Than leaves on trees, or sands upon the shores;
Which still unfolded stand, by night, by day,
Pervious to winds, and open ev'ry way.
As flames by nature to the skies ascend,
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, arife
All various founds from earth, and feas, and skies,
Or spoke aloud, or whisper'd in the ear;
Nor ever filence, rest, or peace is here.
As on the smooth expanse of crystal lakes,
The sinking stone at first a circle makes;
The trembling surface, by the motion stir'd,
Spreads in a fecond circle, then a third;
Wide, and more wide, the floating rings advance, 440
Fill all the wat'ry plain, and to the margin dance.
Thus ev'ry voice and found, when first they break,
On neighb'ring air a soft impression make;
Another ambient circle then they move;
That, in its turn, impels the next above;
VER. 428. As Flames by nature to the, &c.] This thought is transferr'd hither out of the third book of Fame, where it takes up no less than 120 Verses, beginning thus,
Geffray, thou wottest well this, &c.
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