He went with Ralegh to the Court, and both were well received. Spenser was given a small pension by Elizabeth. But the ways of the Court did not please him. He had sat too long dreaming by the green alders of Mulla's stream to take kindly to the bustle and ceremony and coarseness of that life. He must have returned with gladness to Kilcolman, and to the work which he now knew the world deemed excellent. But he ever bore in mind one side of Court life which he describes with vividness, remembering probably what Ralegh had told him in their first long talks together.
"Cause have I none (quoth he) of cancred will
To quite them ill, that me demeaned so well:
But selfe-regard of private good or ill
Moves me of each, so as I found, to tell
And else to warne young shepheards wandring wit,
Which, through report of that lives painted blisse,
Abandon quiet home, to seeke for it,
And leave their lambes to losse misled amisse.
For sooth to say it is no sort of life
For shepheard fit to lead in that same place,
Where each one seeks with malice, and with strife,
To thrust down other into foule disgrace,
Himself to raise: and he doth soonest rise
That best can handle his deceitful wit
In subtil shifts, and finest sleights devise."
Ralegh knew this dark side of the Court life as well as Spenser knew it: he knew how some men were ready to slander a well-deemed name by lies and by forgery: how some men were pleased to creep into a man's secrecy and betray him: he knew the frequency of
"A filed toung furnisht with tearmes of art,
No art of schoole, but courtiers schoolery."
For there were many impostors at the Court; men eager to touch a great man's cloak-hem, and still more eager to raise the cry of Treason which should send that great man to his ruin. Ralegh, when he was well, was roused by these dangers to grapple with them: it stirred his fighting instinct and his pride. It proved his knowledge of men and tested his power of dealing with men. He liked to pass on his way with his head erect, scorning the clamour of the little men, that he might stoop the lower in reverence to his great Queen. But Spenser looked upon this darker side of Court life, and turned away from it in disgust. He had neither the power nor the instinct to overcome such circumstances: they merely tired and offended him. He was king of the land of dreams: a leader of men he could never be. And he did not complain against his kingdom, though his waking hours were troubled by care and sorrow.
It is uncommonly pleasant to linger over these quiet months of Ralegh's life: it is pleasant to think of Ralegh, one of the greatest men that have ever lived, finding that Edmund Spenser whom he remembered well enough, was his friend: hearing him read those three books of the "Faërie Queene," and finding that his new and gentle friend was a very great poet. Each man had his dream of a kingdom: Spenser, the realm of Faërie, where he would fashion the allegory of a perfect chivalry: Ralegh, the kingdom of Guiana, which was to make his Queen mighty and his country the greatest in the world. Neither dream was wrought out to its end.