He brought him, through a darksom narrow strayt,
To a broad gate all built of beaten gold:
The gate was open; but therein did wayt
A sturdie villein, stryding stiff and bold,
As if the highest god defy he would.
In his right hand an yron club he held,
But he himselfe was all of golden mould,
Yet had both life and sence, and well could weld
That cursed weapon, when his cruell foes queld....
He brought him in. The rowme was large and wide,
As it some Gyeld or solemne temple weare;
Many great golden pillours did upbeare
The massy roofe and riches huge sustayne;
And every pillour decked was full deare
With crownes and diademes and titles vaine,
Which mortall princes wore whiles they on earth did rayne.
A route of people there assembled were,
Of every sort and nation under skye,
Which with great uprore preaced to draw nere
To the upper part: where was advanced hye
A stately siege of soveraine majestye;
And thereon satt a woman gorgeous gay
And richly cladd in robes of royaltye,
That never earthly prince in such aray
His glory did enhaunce, and pompous pryde display...
There, as in glistring glory she did sitt,
She held a great gold chaine ylinked well
Whose upper end to highest heven was knitt,
And lower part did reach to lowest hell.
(Liv. II, ch. VII.)
.... No gate, but like one, being goodly dight
With bowes and braunches wich did broad dilate
Their clasping armes in wanton wreathings intricate:
So fashioned a porch with rare device,
Archt over head with an embracing vine,
Whose brounches hanging downe seemed to entice
All passers-by to taste their lushious wine,
And did themselves into their hands incline,
As freely offering to be gathered,
Some deepe empurpled as the hyaline,
Some as the rubine laughing sweetely red,
Some like faire emeraudes not yet well ripened....
And in the midst of all a fountaine stood,
Of richest substance that on earth might bee,
So pure and shiny that the silver flood
Through every channell running one might see.
Most goodly it with curious ymageree
Was over-wrought, and shapes of naked boyes,
Of which some seemd with lively jollitee
To fly about, playing their wanton toyes,
Whylest others did themselves embay in liquid joyes.
And over all of purest gold was spred
A trayle of yvie in his native hew;
For the rich metall was so coloured,
That wight, who did not well avis'd it vew,
Would surely deeme it to bee yvie trew;
Low his lascivious armes adown did creepe,
That themselves dipping in the silver dew
Their fleecy flowres then fearfully did steepe,
Which drops of christall seemd for wantones to weep.