SPENCER. THE CAVE OF DESPAIR ERE long they come, where that same wicked wight His dwelling has, low in a hollow cave, Far underneath a craggy cliff ypight, Dark, doleful, dreary, like a greedy grave, That still for carrion carcases doth crave: On top whereof ay dwelt the ghastly owl, Shrieking his baleful note, which ever drave Far from that Haunt all other cheerful fowl; And all about it wandering ghosts did wail and howl. And all about old stocks and stubs of trees, Whereon nor fruit nor leaf was ever seen. Did hang upon the ragged, rocky knees; On which had many wretches hanged been, Whose carcases were scattered on the green, And thrown about the cliffs. Arrived there, That bare-head Knight, for dread and doleful teene, Would fain have fled, ne durst approachen near; But the other forced him stay, and comforted in fear That darksome cave they enter, where they find His grisly locks, long growen and unbound, His raw-bone cheeks, through penury and pine, His garment, nought but many ragged clouts, And made an open passage for the gushing flood. Which piteous spectacle approving true What justice can but judge against thee right, With thine own blood to price his blood, here shed in sight?" "What frantic fit," quoth he, " hath thus distraught Thee, foolish man, so rash a doom to give? What justice ever other judgment taught, But he should die who merits not to live? None else to death this man despairing drove, But his own guilty mind deserving death. Is't then unjust to each his due to give? Or let him die that loatheth living breath? Or let him die at ease, that liveth here uneath? "Who travels by the weary wandering way, Most envious man, that grieves at neighbours' good, "He there does now enjoy eternal rest And happy ease, which thou doest want and crave, And further from it daily wanderest; What if some little pain the passage have, That make frail flesh to fear the bitter wave? Is not short pain well borne, that brings long ease, And lays the soul to sleep in quiet grave ? Sleep after toil, port after stormy seas, Ease after war, death after life, doth greatly please." The knight much wondered at his sudden wit, And said, "The term of life is limited, Nor may a man prolong nor shorten it: The soldier may not move from watchful sted, Nor leave his stand until his captain bid." "Who life did limit by almighty doom, Quoth he, "knows best the term established; And he, that points the sentinel his room, Doth license him depart at sound of morning drum "Is not his deed, whatever thing is done Are written sure, and have their certain date. That holds the world in his still changing state? When hour of death is come, let none ask whence nor why "The longer life, I wot the greater sin; The greater sin, the greater punishment : All those great battles which thou boasts to win, Through strife, and blood-shed, and avengement Now praised, hereafter dear thou shalt repent: For life must life, and blood must blood repay. Is not enough thy evil life forespent? For he, that once hath missed the right way, The further he doth go, the further he doth stray. "Then do no further go, no further stray; which, and thousands more, do make a loathsome life. "Thou, wretched man, of death hath greatest need, If in true balance thou wilt weigh thy state; For never knight, that dared warlike deed, More luckless disadventures did await. Witness the dungeon deep, wherein of late Thy life shut up for death so oft did call; And though good luck prolonged hath thy date, Yet death then would the like mishaps forestall, Into the which, hereafter, thou maist happen fall. "Why then dost thou, O man of sin, desire With whom in all abuse thou hast thyself defiled? |