| He no count made of nobility; The realm’s chief strength and girlond of the crown— He made them dwell in darkness of disgrace, For none but whom he list might come in place. Of men of armes he had but small regard, But kept them low, and strained very hard; For men of learning little he esteem’d, His wisdome he above their learning deem’d. As for the rascal commons least he cared, For not so common was his bounty shared. Let God, said he, if please care for the manie, I for myself most care before else anie. Yet none durst speak, ne none durst of him plaine, So great he was in grace, and rich through gaine. |
The gentle bard of the “Faery Queen” now sate down to continue his great work; but haunted by this spectral and iron-eyed monster of an unpatronising minister, he actually violates the solemnity of his theme by opening with another recollection, so fatal to his own repose:—
| The rugged forehead that, with grave foresight, Welds kingdoms, causes, and affairs of state, My looser rimes I wote doth sharply wite, For praising love as I have done of late. Such ones ill judge of love, that cannot love, Ne in their frozen heart feel kindly flame. |
But the minister could not banish him from the sovereign:—
| To such therefore I do not sing at all, But to that Sacred Saint, my sovereign Queen; To her I sing of love that loveth best, And best is loved. |
About the same time Spenser had written “The Tears of the Muses,” where, expressing a poet’s wish that the royal palaces of Eliza should be filled with
| ————Praises of divinest wits, Who her eternize with their heavenly writs, |
I suspect that Burleigh figures again among
| ——————The salvage brood, Who, having been with acorns always fed, Can no whit cherish this celestial food; But, with base thoughts, are unto blindness led, And kept from looking on the lightsome day. |
After these indignant effusions, Spenser in proceeding with the “Faery Queen” tergiversated in his feelings. The poet had shadowed with some tenderness the calamities of the Scottish Mary, in the gentle characters of Amoret and Florizel. Yielding to political changes, the Queen of Scots is suddenly horribly transformed into the false Duessa. For the honour of the poet we may concede that he partook of those party-passions which great statesmen know to raise up at will, and which never fail to influence contemporaries. Burleigh never paused till he laid the head of Mary on the block.[5] In the fifth book of the “Faery Queen” the poet has exhibited the trial of this state victim, and has made her sister-sovereign gracefully conceal tears which possibly were never shed; but who could expect that “the rugged forehead”—him whom he had denounced that “alive or dead” should by “the muse be ever scorned”—should appear with all the dignity of wisdom!