153

But of the praise of Waller, though much may be taken away, much will remain, for it cannot be denied that he added something to our elegance of diction, and something to our propriety of thought; and to him may be applied what Tasso said, with equal spirit and justice, of himself and Guarini, when, having perused the Pastor Fido, he cried out, 'If he had not read Aminta, he had not excelled it '.'

2

154 AS Waller professed himself to have learned the art of versification from Fairfax it has been thought proper to subjoin a specimen of his work, which, after Mr. Hoole's translation, will perhaps not be soon reprinted 3. By knowing the state in which Waller found our poetry, the reader may judge how much he improved it *.

15.

'Erminiaes steed (this while) his mistresse bore
Through forrests thicke among the shadie treene,
Her feeble hand the bridle raines forlore,
Halfe in a swoune she was for feare I weene ;
But her flit courser spared nere the more,

To beare her through the desart woods vnseene

Of her strong foes, that chas'd her through the plaine,
And still pursu'd, but still pursu'd in vaine.

'It is said that Tassa, on seeing
the Pastor Fido represented, looked
vexed and said: "If Guarini had
not seen my Amintas he had not
excelled it." BARETTI, The Italian
Library, 1757, p. 120.

'Tasso's Aminta infinitely transcends Guarini's Pastor Fido, as having more of nature in it, and being almost wholly clear from the wretched affectation of learning.' DRYDEN, Works, xiii. 324.

Chesterfield (Letters, ii. 341) thus described the Pastor Fido:-'A parcel of shepherds and shepherdesses, with the true pastoral simplicity, talk metaphysics, epigrams, concetti and quibbles by the hour to each other.' See also post, GAY, 32 ; A. PHILIPS, 16.

'I am desirous of laying hold on Mr. Waller's memory on all occasions and thereby acknowledging to the world that, unless he had written, none of us could write.' DRYDEN, Works, xviii. 6.

? Ante, WALLER, 5, 143.

3

Boswell's Johnson, i. 383. Charles Lamb wrote on Jan. 5, 1797:-'Fairfax I have been in quest of a long time. Johnson, in his Life of Waller, gives a most delicious specimen of him, and adds, in the true manner of that delicate critic, as well as amiable man, "It may be presumed that this old version will not be much read after the elegant translation of my friend, Mr. Hoole." I endeavoured-I wished to gain some idea of Tasso from this Mr. Hoole, the great boast and ornament of the India House, but soon desisted. I found him more vapid than smallest small beer "sun-vinegared."' Letters of Lamb, i. 59.

4 For somewhat similar praise of Cowley and Denham see ante, CowLEY, 202; DENHAM, 42.

5 [Book vii of Godfrey of Bulloigne or the Recouerie of Ierusalem, done into English heroicall Verse by Edw. Fairfax, Gent. 1600.]

2.

'Like as the wearie hounds at last retire,
Windlesse, displeased, from the fruitlesse chace,
When the slie beast Tapisht in bush and brire,
No art nor paines can rowse out of his place:
The Christian knights so full of shame and ire
Returned backe, with faint and wearie pace:

Yet still the fearefull Dame fled, swift as winde,
Nor euer staid, nor euer lookt behinde.

3.

'Through thicke and thinne, all night, all day, she driued, Withouten comfort, companie or guide,

Her plaints and teares with euery thought reuiued,
She heard and saw her greefes, but nought beside.
But when the sunne his burning chariot diued

In Thetis waue, and wearie teame vntide,

On Iordans sandie banks her course she staid

At last, there downe she light, and downe she laid.

4.

'Her teares, her drinke; her food, her sorrowings,
This was her diet that vnhappie night:

But sleepe (that sweet repose and quiet brings)
To ease the greefes of discontented wight,
Spred foorth his tender, soft, and nimble wings,
In his dull armes foulding the virgin bright;

And loue, his mother, and the graces kept

Strong watch and warde, while this faire Ladie slept.

5.

The birds awakte her with their morning song,

Their warbling musicke pearst her tender eare,

The murmuring brookes and whistling windes among The ratling boughes, and leaues, their parts did beare; Her eies vnclos'd beheld the groues along

Of swaines and shepherd groomes, that dwellings weare; And that sweet noise, birds, winds, and waters sent, Prouokte againe the virgin to lament.

6.

'Her plaints were interrupted with a sound,
That seem'd from thickest bushes to proceed,
Some iolly shepherd sung a lustie round,
And to his voice had tun'd his oaten reed;
Thither she went, an old man there she found
(At whose right hand his little flock did feed),

Set making baskets, his three sonnes among,
That learn'd their fathers art, and learn'd his song.

7.

'Beholding one in shining armes appeare
The seelie man and his were sore dismaid;
But sweet Erminia comforted their feare,
Her ventall vp, her visage open laid,

You happie folke, of heau'n beloued deare,

Work on (quoth she) vpon your harmlesse traid,
These dreadfull armes I beare no warfare bring

To your sweet toile, nor those sweet tunes you sing.

8.

'But father, since this land, these townes and towres,
Destroied are with sword, with fire and spoile,
How may it be vnhurt, that you and yours
In safetie thus, applie your harmlesse toile ?
My sonne (quoth he) this poore estate of ours
Is euer safe from storme of warlike broile ;
This wildernesse doth vs in safetie keepe,

No thundring drum, no trumpet breakes our sleepe.

9.

'Haply iust heau'ns defence and shield of right,
Doth loue the innocence of simple swaines,
The thunderbolts on highest mountaines light,
And seld or neuer strike the lower plaines:
So kings haue cause to feare Bellonaes might,
Not they whose sweat and toile their dinner gaines,
Nor euer greedie soldier was entised
By pouertie, neglected and despised.

IO.

'O pouertie, chefe of the heau'nly brood,
Dearer to me than wealth or kingly crowne!
No wish for honour, thirst of others good,
Can moue my hart, contented with mine owne:
We quench our thirst with water of this flood,
Nor fear we poison should therein be throwne:
These little flocks of sheepe and tender goates
Giue milke for food, and wooll to make us coates.

II.

'We little wish, we need but little wealth,

From cold and hunger vs to cloath and feed;

These are my sonnes, their care preserues from stealth
Their fathers flocks, nor servants moe I need :
Amid these groues I walke oft for my health,
And to the fishes, birds and beastes giue heed,
How they are fed, in forrest, spring and lake,
And their contentment for ensample take.

12.

'Time was (for each one hath his doting time,
These siluer locks were golden tresses than)
That countrie life I hated as a crime,
And from the forrests sweet contentment ran,
To Memphis stately pallace would I clime,
And there became the mightie Caliphes man,
And though I but a simple gardner weare,
Yet could I marke abuses, see and heare.

13.

'Entised on with hope of future gaine,

I suffred long what did my soule displease;
But when my youth was spent, my hope was vaine,
I felt my natiue strength at last decrease;

I gan my losse of lustie yeeres complaine,

And wisht I had enioy'd the countries peace;
I bod the court farewell, and with content
My later age here haue I quiet spent.

14.

'While thus he spake, Erminia husht and still
His wise discourses heard, with great attention,
His speeches graue those idle fancies kill,
Which in her troubled soule bred such dissention;
After much thought reformed was her will,
Within those woods to dwell was her intention,
Till fortune should occasion new afford,
To turne her home to her desired Lord.

15.

'She said therefore, O shepherd fortunate!

That troubles some didst whilom feele and proue,
Yet liuest now in this contented state,

Let my mishap thy thoughts to pitie moue,

To entertaine me as a willing mate

In shepherds life, which I admire and loue;
Within these pleasant groues perchance my hart,
Of her discomforts, may vnload some part.

16.

'If gold or wealth of most esteemed deare,
If iewels rich, thou diddest hold in prise,
Such store thereof, such plentie haue I here,
As to a greedie minde might well suffice:
With that downe trickled many a siluer teare,
Two christall streames fell from her watrie eies;
Part of her sad misfortunes than she told,
And wept, and with her wept that shepherd old.

17.

'With speeches kinde, he gan the virgin deare
Towards his cottage gently home to guide;
His aged wife there made her homely cheare,
Yet welcomde her, and plast her by her side.
The Princesse dond a poore pastoraes geare,
A kerchiefe course vpon her head she tide;

But yet her gestures and her lookes (I gesse)
Were such, as ill beseem'd a shepherdesse.

18.

'Not those rude garments could obscure, and hide,
The heau'nly beautie of her angels face,
Nor was her princely ofspring damnifide,
Or ought disparag'de, by those labours bace;
Her little flocks to pasture would she guide,
And milke her goates, and in their folds them place,
Both cheese and butter could she make, and frame
Her selfe to please the shepherd and his dame.'