Dark, doleful, dreary, like a greedy grave
That still for carrion carcases doth crave. འ

The ground no herbs, but venomous, did bear,
Nor ragged trees did leaf, but everywhere

Dead bones and skulls were cast, and bodies hanged were.

Upon the roof the bird of sorrow sat,
Elonging joyful day with her sad note,
And through the shady air the fluttering bat
Did wave her leather sails, and blindly float,
While with her wings the fatal screech-owl smote
The unblessed house; there, on a craggy stone,
Celano hung, and made his direful moan,

And all about the murdered ghosts did shriek and groan.

Like cloudy moonshine in some shadowy grove,
Such was the light in which Despair did dwell;
But he himself with night for darkness strove.
His black uncombed locks dishevelled fell
About his face; through which, as brands of hell!
Sunk in his skull, his starry eyes did glow,

That made him deadly look, their glimpse did show
Like cockatrices' eyes, that sparks of poison throw.

His clothes were ragged clouts, with thorns pinned fast;
And as he musing lay, to stony fright

A thousand wild Chimeras would him cast:
As when a fearful dream in midst of night
Skips to the brain, and phansies to the sight

Some winged fury, straight the hasty foot,
Eager to fly, cannot pluck up its root:

The voice dies in the tongue, and mouth gapes without boot.

Now he would dream that he from Heaven fell,
And then would snatch the air, afraid to fall;
And now he thought he sinking was to Hell,
And then would grasp the earth, and now his stall
Him seemed Hell, and then he out would crawl:

And ever, as he crept, would squint aside,
Lest him, perhaps, some Fury had espied,
And then, alas! he should in chains for ever bide!

The most material features of this description, remarks Mr. Headley*, are taken from Spencer's Fairy Queen

lib. i. canto 9, st. 33, 36. This, he adds, is a curious instance of plagiarism, and serves to show us how little ceremony the poets of that day laboured under in pilfering from each other. But this censure is very unjust. All that Fletcher borrowed from Spenser in the present instance might be restored without injuring the beauty of the picture. The Fairy Queen was, indeed, the model upon which he worked; and he seems to have studied its design and colouring with enthusiastic industry. But he stamped his copies with his own genius. Spenser was himself indebted to the powerful pencil of Sackville.

Our Saviour, having been "woo'd in vain" by the Serpent to enter into the Cave, is next transported to The sacred pinnacles that threat,

With their aspiring tops, Astræa's starry seat.

Here did Presumption her pavilion spread,
Over the Temple, the bright stars among,
(Ah! that her foot should trample on the head
Of that most reverend place !) and a lewd throng
Of wanton boys sang her a pleasant song

Of love, long life, of mercy, and of grace;
And every one her dearly did embrace,
And she herself enamoured was of her own face.

A painted face belied with vermeil store,
Which light Euëlpis every day did trim,
That in one hand a gilded anchor wore,
Not fixed on the rock, but on the brim
Of the wide air she let it loosely swim:
Her other hand a sprinkle carried,

And ever, when her lady wavered,
Court holy-water all upon her sprinkled.

Poor fool! she thought herself in wondrous price
With God, as if in Paradise she were;

But, were she not in a fool's paradise,

She might have seen more reason to despair;
But him she, like some ghastly fiend, did fear,

And therefore, as that wretch hew'd out his cell
Under the bowels, in the heart of hell,

So she above the moon, amid the stars would dwell.

Her tent with sunny clouds was sealed aloft,
And so exceeding shone with a false light,
That heaven itself to her it seemed oft,
Heaven without clouds to her deluded sight;
But clouds withouten heaven it was aright;

And as her house was built, so did her brain
Build castles in the air, with idle pain,
But heart she never had in all her body vain.

Upon a "hilly bank" was built "the bower of VainDelight," and along this false Eden, the "first destroyer" led our Saviour. Throughout this canto, Fletcher evidently had the pictures of Spenser before his eyes; the fount of silver, the "plump Lyæus," the empurpled elm, the ruby grapes, all whisper of the great author of the Fairy Queen. But if Fletcher borrowed from Spenser, he in turn has been imitated by Milton. We are reminded of the

Table richly spread, in regal mode,—(Par. Reg. b. 2.) which Satan caused to rise up in the desert before Jesus, with the attending Naiades bearing "fruits and flowers from Amalthea's horn," and the fair "ladies of the Hesperides." Milton does not, indeed, like his predecessor, employ them as objects of temptation, an assumption not sanctioned by the Evangelists; but (as Bishop Newton has remarked) with greater propriety makes them the subject of debate among the wicked spirits themselves.

Presumption having in vain tempted the Saviour to throw himself from the pinnacle of the temple, "herself she tumbled headlong to the floor," while a choir of angels bear our Lord to an "airy mountain." Immediately a delightful garden springs up in that solitary place :

All suddenly the hill his snow devours,
In lieu whereof a goodly garden grew;
As if the snow had melted into flowers
Which their sweet breath in subtle vapours threw,
That all about perfumed spirits flew:

For whatsoe'er might aggravate the sense,
In all the world, or please the appetence,
Here it was poured out in lavish affluence.
VOL. I.

G

Not lovely Ida might with this compare,
Though many streams his banks besilvered,
Though Xanthus with his golden sands he bare;
Nor Hybla, though his thyme depastured,
As fast again with honey blossomed ;

Nor Rhodope, nor Tempe's flow'ry plain:
Adonis' garden was to this but vain,

Though Plato on his beds a flood of praise did rain.
The garden like a lady fair was cut,

That lay as if she slumbered in delight,
And to the open skies her eyes did shut;

The azure fields of heaven were sembled right

In a large round, set with the flowers of light:

The flowers-de-luce, and the round sparks of dew,
That hung upon their azure leaves, did shew

Like twinkling stars, that sparkle in the ev'ning blue.

The allegorical figures of Ambition and Vain-glory are vividly painted.

Therefore above the rest Ambition sate :

His court with glitt'ring pearl was all enwalled,
And round about the wall, in chairs of state,
And most majestic splendour, were installed
A hundred kings, whose temples were impaled
In golden diadems, set here and there

With diamonds, and gemmed every where,
And of their golden virges none disceptred were.

High over all Vainglories blazing throne,
In her bright turret, all of crystal wrought,
Like Phoebus' lamp, in midst of heaven, shone;
Whose starry top, with pride infernal fraught,
Self-arching columns to uphold were taught:

In which her image still reflected was

By the smooth crystal, that most like her glass,
In beauty and in frailty did all others pass.
A silver wand the sorceress did sway,
And, for a crown of gold her hair she wore;
Only a garland of rose-buds did play
About her locks, and in her hand she bore
A hollow globe of glass, that long before

She full of emptiness had bladdered,
And all the world therein depictured,
Whose colours, like the rainbow, ever vanished.

Such wat❜ry orbicles young boys do blow
Out from their soapy shells, and much admire
The swimming world, which tenderly they row
With easy breath till it be waved higher:
But if they chance but roughly once aspire,

The painted bubble instantly doth fall.

This allegory is in the manner of Spenser; but Milton, by keeping closer to the inspired narrative, has produced a sublimer effect. The "specular mount," from whence are beheld all the cities and empires of the East, Nineveh, and Babylon, Ecbatana, and the City of the hundred gates, presents a magnificent picture.

The third book, entitled Christ's Triumph over Death, commemorates the Crucifixion. It is the least harmonious and powerful portion of the poem; but the portrait of the traitor Judas, suffering under the horrors of an accusing conscience, is delineated with surprising sublimity and force of imagination :

For him a waking blood-hound, yelling loud,
That in his bosom long had sleeping laid,
A guilty Conscience, barking after blood,
Pursued eagerly, nor ever stayed,

Till the betrayer's self it had betrayed.

Oft changed the place, in hope away to wind;

But change of place could never change his mind:
Himself he flies to lose, and follows for to find.

With that a flaming brand a Fury catched,
And shook, and tossed it round in his wild thought,
So from his heart all joy, all comfort snatched,
With ev'ry star of hope; and as he sought
(With present fear, and future grief distraught,)

To fly from his own heart, and aid implore

Of him, the more he gives, that hath the more, Whose storehouse is the heav'ns, too little for his store:

At this moment the Tempter appears to the apostate disciple, and reviles him for his ingratitude to his Divine Master. His soul is overwhelmed with fear and madness: