The sun, awakening, through the smoky air
Of the dark city, casts a sullen glance,
Rousing each caitiff to his task of care,
Of sinful man the sad inheritance;
Summoning revellers from the lagging dance,
Scaring the prowling robber in his den;
Gilding on battled tower the warder’s lance;
And warning student pale to leave his pen,
And yield his drowsy eyes to the kind nurse of men.
She said, these lines seemed to have been produced, perhaps unconsciously, by a speech of Shakspeare’s Richard II.
—— Know’st thou not,
That when the searching eye of heaven is hid
Behind the globe, and lights the lower world,
Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen,
In murders, and in outrage bloody, here;
But when from under this terrestrial ball,
He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines,
And darts his light through every guilty hole;
Then murders, treasons, and detested sins,
The cloak of night being pluck’d from off their backs,
Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselves.
In this case they all agreed that an author might insensibly dwell on an idea, alter, dress, and add to it, till he was no longer aware whence the original thought had come—as in a large company, a single word which happens to come to our ears from a group in another part of the room produces sometimes an interesting conversation, though none of the party engaged in it know well how it began.
Mrs. P. said that similar turns of thought and expression may be traced back through the whole chain of poets; and that if Homer appears to be an original genius, it is because we cannot now compare him with his predecessors. Few of our old writers were less exposed to the charge of borrowing than Spenser, and yet she could not help imagining that the Persian tale of Fadlallah was the origin of those pretty stanzas in the Faërie Queene, where the dove who watches over Belphœbe and her despairing swain, contrives that they shall once more be reconciled.
Mary said she thought it had more resemblance to the story of Camaralzaman, in the Arabian Nights, who was enticed from hill to hill in pursuit of the bird who had carried off the princess’s talisman. “That cruel bird,” said she, “leads Camaralzaman away only to separate him from his beloved princess; but the same idea in Spenser’s hands becomes a hundred times more beautiful. The dove is represented as the constant and tender companion of the youth who had long languished in grief for the loss of his Belphœbe; his ‘dole’ is soothed by the caresses and sympathy of the bird; and at last, in order to gaze at a ruby heart, which she had given him in happier times, he fastens it round its neck. Away flies the kind-hearted dove, who gains the notice of Belphœbe, and gently winning her forward in pursuit of the well-known ruby, succeeds in restoring the long-parted lovers to each other.”
Mrs. P. acknowledged that Mary’s opinion was more just than her own; and my aunt, looking at me, said, “I think I see in Bertha’s countenance that she has not read the Faërie Queene: suppose, Caroline, you were to refresh our recollections, and read those pretty stanzas for your cousin.”
Caroline did so; and as I know you have not Spenser among your books, and as his old-fashioned style will amuse Marianne, I will transcribe the two last stanzas, where Belphœbe, attracted by her jewel, follows the benevolent bird.
She, her beholding with attentive eye,
At length did marke about her purple brest
That precious iuell, which she formerly
Had knowne right well, with colourd ribbands drest:
Therewith she rose in hast, and her addrest
With ready hand it to have reft away;
But the swift bird obayd not her behest,
But swarv’d aside, and there againe did stay;
She followed her, and thought againe it to assay.
And ever when she nigh approcht, the dove
Would flit a little forward, and then stay
Till she drew neare, and then againe remove;
So tempting still her to pursue the prey,
And still from her escaping soft away;
Till that at length into that forrest wide
She drew her far, and led with slow delay;
In th’ end she her unto that place did guide
Whereat that woful man in languor did abide.