And on his shield kind Jonathan imparts

To his soul's friend, his robes, and princely name,
And kingly throne, which mortals so adore :
And round about was writ in golden ore,
'Well might he give him all, that gave his life before."
XXXVII.

These led the vanguard; and a hundred moe
Fill'd up the empty ranks with order'd train :
But first in middleward did justly go

In goodly arms a fresh and lovely Swain*,

Vaunting himself Love's twin, but yonger brother: Well mought it be, for e'en their very mother With pleasing errour oft mistook one for the other. XXXVIII.

As when fair Paris gave that golden ball,

A thousand doubts ran in his stagg'ring breast: All lik'd him well, fain would he give it all:

Each better seems, and still the last seems best :
Doubts ever new his reaching hand deferr❜d :
The more he looks the more his judgment err'd:
So she first this, then that, then none, then both preferr❜d.
XXXIX.

Like them, their armour seem'd full near of kin :
In this they only differ; th' elder bent

His higher soul to Heav'n; the younger twin
'Mongst mortals here his love and kindness spent ;
Teaching (strange alchymy) to get a living,
By selling lands, and to grow rich by giving;
By emptying filling bags, so Heav'n by Earth atchieving.
XL.

About him troop'd the poor with num'rous trains,
Whom he with tender care and large expence,

* Charity.

With kindest words and succour entertains;
Ne looks for thanks, or thinks of recompence:
His wardrobe serves to clothe the naked side,
And shameful parts of bared bodies hide;

If other clothes he lack'd, his own he would divide.
XLI.

To rogues, his gate was shut; but open lay
Kindly the weary traveller inviting
Oft therefore angels, hid in mortal clay,
And God himself in his free roofs delighting,
Lowly to visit him would not disdain,

And in his narrow cabin oft remain ;

Whom Heav'n and Earth, and all the world cannot contain.

XLII.

His table still was fill'd with wholesome meat,

Not to provoke, but quiet appetite;

And round about the hungry freely eat,

With plenteous cates cheering their feeble sprite :
Their earnest vows broke open Heav'n's wide door;
That not in vain sweet plenty evermore

With gracious eye looks down upon his blessed store.
XLIII.

Behind attend him in an uncouth-wise

A troop with little caps and shaved head; Such whilome was enfranchis'd bondmen's dress, New freed from cruel masters' servile dread :

These had he lately bought from captive chain; Hence they his triumph sing with joyful strain, And on his head due praise, and thousand blessings rain. XLIV.

He was a father to the fatherless,

To widows he supply'd a husband's care;

Nor would he heap up woe to their distress,
Or by a guardian's name their state impair ;
But rescue them from strong oppressors might:
Nor doth he weigh the great man's heavy spite;
Who fears the highest Judge, need fear no mortal wight.'
XLV.

Once ev'ry week he on his progress went,

The sick to visit, and those meagre swains,
Who all their weary life in darkness spent,

Clogg'd with cold iron, press'd with heavy chains :
He hoards not wealth for his loose heir to spend it,
But with a willing hand doth well expend it.
"Gold then is only good which to cur God we lend it.'
XLVI.

And when the dead by cruel tyrant's spite,

Lie out to rav'nous birds and beasts expos'd, His yearnful heart pitying that wretched sight, In seemly graves their weary flesh enclos'd,

And strew'd with dainty flow'd the lowly hearse ;
Then all along the last words did rehearse,
Bidding them softly sleep in his sad sighing verse.
XLVII.

So once that royal maid* fierce Thebes beguil'd,
Though wilful Creon proudly did forbid her;
Her brother from his home and tomb exil'd,
(Whilst willing night in darkness safely hid her)
She lowly laid in earth's all-covering shade;
Her dainty hands (not us'd to such a trade)
She with a mattock toils and with the weary spade.

XLVIII.

Yet feels she neither sweat, nor irksome pain,

Till now his grave was fully finished;

Antigone daughter of Oedipus, contrary to the ediet of Creon, buries Polynices.

Then on his wounds her cloudy eyes 'gin rain,
To wash the guilt painted in bloody red :
And falling down upon his gored side,

With hundred varied plaints she often cry'd,

Oh, had I died for thee, or with thee might have died!'
XLIX.

Ay me! my ever wrong'd and banish'd brother,
How can I fitly thy hard fate deplore,
Or in my breast so just complaining smother?
To thy sad chance what can be added more?
Exile thy home, thy home a tomb the grave:
Oh, no such little room thou must not have;
But for thy banish'd bones, I (wretch) must steal a grave.'

L.

But whither, woful maid, have thy complaints

With fellow-passion drawn my feeling moan? But thus this Love deals with those murder'd saints; Weeps with the sad, and sighs with those that groan. But now in that beech grove we'll safely play, And in those shadows mock the boiling ray;

Which yet increases more with the decreasing day."

CANTO X.

I.

THE shepherds to the woody mount withdrew,

Where hillock seats, shades yield a canopy; Whose top with violets dy'd all in blue,

Might seem to make a little azure sky :

And that round hill, which their weak heads maintain❜d,
A lesser Atlas seem'd, whose neck sustain'd

The weight of all the Heav'ns, which sore his shoulders

pain'd.

II.

And here and there sweet primrose scattered,
Spangling the blue, fit constellations make:
Some broadly flaming their fair colours spread;
Some other wink'd, as yet but half awake :
Fit were they plac'd, and set in order due :
Nature seem'd work by art, so lively true
A little Heav'n on Earth in narrow space she drew.
III.

Within this earthly Heav'n the shepherds play,
The time beguiling, and the parching light;

Till the declining Sun, and elder day

Abate their flaming heat, and youthful might:

The sheep had left their shades, to mind their meat, Then all returning to their former seat, Thirsil again began his weary song repeat.

IV.

"Great pow'r of Love! with what commanding fire Dost thou enflame the world's wide regiment,

And kindly heat in every heart inspire!

Nothing is free from thy sweet government: