The Works of Richard Owen Cambridge Including several pieces never before published: with an account of his life and character, by his son, George Owen Cambridge |
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 | The Works of Richard Owen Cambridge |  |
33
ARCHIMAGE;
A POEM, WRITTEN IN IMITATION OF SPENCER, AND DESCRIPTIVE OF THE AUTHOR AND FOUR OF HIS BOAT'S CREW.
I
A beauteous Maid was walking on the plaine,Nigh where Sabrina rolls her yellow tyde,
(Who now uplifts her fretted waves amaine,
And now serenely doth like Thamis glyde;)
Her palfrey to a distant tree was tied;
Delighted with the stream, of nought afraid,
She walk'd; a dwarf attended on her side,
Who bore a shield, on which there was displayd
Alofte on azure field a deadlie Trenchant blade.
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II
Happie the Knight, yea happiest he the Knight,By fates ordain'd that envied shield to beare,
The dearest gift of honour'd Lady bright,
To whom she worthy deems that pledge to weare,
His sure protection in the doubtful warre;
And ever shall such good the gifte attend,
That whoso beareth it shall nothing feare,
But on his Lady's virtues still depend,
Trusting in her his Saint, his Patronesse and Friend.
III
Her loosely walking on the lonely shoreEspied Archimage that wizard vile;
And now the subtile fiend had got his lore;
For whilom oft, with many an artful wile,
And soothing words full fraught with hidden guile
Her virtuous wisdom did the Mage assail;
Nath'less unmoved remain'd she all the while,
Ne would give ear to his false glozing tale,
So that in no wise he against her mote prevail.
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IV
Forthy to overt force now turns his mind.And impious ravishment the ruffian fell;
For equal he to lawless force inclin'd,
Or secret working of the magick spell,
And every mystick charme he knew full well:
Als could he from the vaste and hoarie deep
Summon th' obedient sonnes of night and hell,
As if th' infernal keys himself did keep;
Ne e'er in mischief's tasks allow his eye-lids sleep.
V
Forthwith two hellish imps he calls amaine,Ycleped Giant Strength and Lawless Might;
Each to array he turns his working braine
In garb and semblance fair of gentle Knight;
So with a two-edged weapon he mote fight.
Thereto he Courtesie the one did call,
The other counterfeit Persuasion hight;
So if to nought his specious arts did fall,
By ruffian force he mote be sure to work her thrall.
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VI
And now the bold Inchaunter caus'd be brought,Of strange and curious worke, a rich machine ;
Which by his skille right cunninglie was wrought,
So that it's paragonne mote not be seene;
(Full powerful is the magick art, I weene.)
Ne drawn by dragons was this sumptuous Carre,
Ne by dread lions on the level greene,
Ne yet by yoked swans along the air;
As wizards oft, we read, convey the ravish'd fair.
VII
But with his wond'rous and all-powerful breath,And the bare motion of his felon hond ,
To whate'er parts he lists he travelleth,
And flies with ease to many a distant lond;
For of his prey he now possess'd doth stand.
Als his behests four wizards sage obey,
Each waving in his hand a powerful wand ;
Mightie themselves; but mightier he than they;
Ne mote they his commands at any time gainsay.
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VIII
In the first rank a wily Mage did sit,Long vers'd in fraud, and exercised in ill;
Ne scrupled e'er t' employ his wicked wit,
His master's dev'lish mandates to fulfille;
And with malicious spite he turned stille
'Gainst Elfinne Knights, and wrought them mickle woe;
Als wou'd the blood of holy beadsmen spille,
Whose hairy scalps he hanged in a row
Around his cave; sad sight to Christian eyes I trow!
IX
These would he with a deadlie engine fellHarrow and claw, his foul heart to aggrate,
And wreak his malice, strange it is to tell,
On object senseless and inanimate;
As though it were his living foeman's pate.
Als wou'd he rub a magic ointment eft
O'er heads of luckless knights, such was his hate;
Which of their curled tresses them bereft,
That nought but naked scorne and baldness vile was left.
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X
Next sate a monstrous and mishapen wight,His nether parts unseemlie to beholde;
All from his waiste discovering to the sight
A fishe's tail, with many a circling folde,
Which from the sea he mote not long witholde;
Als in his hideous and Cyclopean front
One single eye-ball (ghastlie feature!) roll'd,
Which fill'd with horror whoso look't upon 't,
And sea and land alike were this foule wizard's wont.
XI
But chief frequented he rough Neptune's reign,Where with his dread Inchaunments cast about,
He'd call the fishe up from the wat'ry plain,
Shad, salmon, turbot, sturgeon, sole and trout;
Ne 'scap'd the smaller frie, ne larger rout;
But all who in his magick circles caught,
Ne great ne small mote ever thence get out;
Such power alass! have fell Inchaunters got,
Ne aught can them resist, ne can escape them aught.
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XII
Yet not for appetite or hunger keen,Or for the end of luscious luxurie,
Did he thus labour day and night, I ween,
And those delicious creatures doom to die,
But barely to aggrate his crueltie.
For aye such joy in mischief would he take,
That oft he'd run and flounce and wade and flie
Like goose unwieldie or like waddling drake,
And thus pursue his prey still flound'ring through the lake.
XIII
Ne would he e'er exchange these 'steemed catesFor life-supporting bread, or wholesome food,
Ne fill his body ere with strength'ning meats,
But ev'ry thing eschewing that is good,
Nought ate or drank which mote not evil brood:
Hot and rebellious liquors were his meal,
Which caus'd foul workings in his fev'rish blood;
'Bove all things else he Wassel priz'd and ale;
For Tritonne, when in drinke, begotte him on a Whale.
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XIV
The next a foul and filthy Wizard was;His skin like hydes of leather did appear;
A griezlie beard grew matted o'er his face;
Hard wax distilled from his eyes so blear,
And on his back grew stiffe and brieslie hair;
Which like th' enraged porcupine he 'd dart
'Gainst skinne of such as him provoked ere;
And ever glad to do them shame and smart,
Left them all slash'd and gored and pink'd in every part.
XV
From noblest auncestors his birth he 'd boast,E'en from the mightie Crispin's royal bed;
Tho' he in fortune's ruder waves was tost,
And by the potent Archimage was led;
Nay once by mightier force imprisonned ,
Altho' himself a great Inchaunter was;
Untill released thro' grace and bountihed
Of good and gentle Knight of Crispin's race,
From barres of hardest steel, and walles of triple brasse.
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XVI
Yet by superior force not overmatch'd,Well knew he how to deal the secret spell:
Thereto the steps of wand'ring Knights he watch'd,
And with smooth words decoy'd them to his cell ;
Where in a chair enchaunted, strange to tell,
The Knights he placed; when thrusting all amaine
I' the stocks their tender feet, the traytor fell
Leaves them, regardless of their bitter paine;
There may they weep and wail, and storm and rave in vaine.
XVII
Next the most dread Magician of the crew,Save the all-powerful Archimage alone,
Of strange and hideous forme, and sable hue,
Fire from his mouthe and livid eye-balls shone,
Would melt harde flints and most obdurate stone.
Thick clouds of smoke still issued from his nose,
Which he in danger hath about him throwne;
His iron nailes the length of fingers rose,
Ne brasse, ne hardest steele, mote his sharpe teeth oppose.
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XVIII
He was to weet a craftie subtile Mage,Great Vulcan's sonne, and from his Sire full well
Had learn'd the winds rude force and mightier rage
Of fire, which oft he'd fetch with many a spell,
And bold Promethean arts, from lowest hell.
In a vaste cave did this Inchaunter wonne,
Full of things foul to see and sadde to tell;
With many a rotten sculle and bleached bone,
And many a mangled lymb was the dread pavement strowne.
XIX
Als on the portals of his friendless gateHe fixed has, and hanged up on highe
The boastfull tokens of his vengefull hate,
And spoils of his lamented victorie,
Extorting tears from every tender eye;
When luckless Knights by him dismounted are,
He straitway to the helpless steed doth flie;
Soon from his tender foot the sole doth teare,
And home the mournful trophie of his conquest beare.
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XX
Nor so he lets escape the haplesse steede,But daie by daie doth racke him more and more;
Now strikes his tender necke till it doth bleede,
And his sleek skyn becomes all cover'd o'er
With the foule stains of bloode and clotted gore;
Als with hotte pyncers dothe he feare his tongue,
And with sharpe nails his feet he pricketh sore;
Which makes him frette, as tho' by gadflie stunge,
Whilst his gall'd hoofe still smarts, in magick circle wrunge.
XXI
Als hath the Wizard with paternal art,And massie beams of ir'n, a castle wrought,
So surelie firme and barr'd in ev'ry part,
That never thence, I ween, escaped aught;
With many a Knight and woeful Squire was fraught
This dolorous dungeon sad, who thither came
By magick touch, and vile inchauntments brought
Of harpies fell, who take their obscene name
Deriv'd from loathed part of scorne, and public shame.
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XXII
Whilom the wretche against his master dar'dIn bold rebellion lift his traitor hand,
And for his steeds his treas'nous charms prepar'd;
But Archimage his purpose had forescann'd,
And him in terror to that lawless band
Condemned aye to sweat and toil amain;
Now in the waves, now on the burning sand,
From scorching flames to the chill wave again;
Thus aye him tort'ring with varietie of pain.
XXIII
Such was this dev'lish and unholie crew;But far above them all was Archimage;
More artful tricks and subtile wyles he knew;
More high, more potent, more rever'd, more sage;
Ne one like him could read the magick page:
Ne could the powers of all combin'd avail
'Gainst his bare breath; so potent was it's rage,
That oft with that alone he would assail
The greatest deeds, nor ere in ought was known to fail.
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XXIV
Als was he balde behinde, and polled o'er,And once escap'd none caught him e'er, I trowe:
One single lock of hair he has before,
Such whilom on Time's aged fronte dothe grow;
(For he like Time ranne ever to and fro,
Following the bente of his impetuous minde)
This must you catch, ere he beginne to go,
For if once gone he flieth like the winde,
Ne ere abateth speed, ne looketh ere behinde.
XXV
Erst by his charmes a wond'rous bow he broughtEv'n from the distante coasts of utmost Inde;
With dread and powerful magick was it wrought;
And feather'd arrows, swifter than the winde,
Which never erred from the marke design'd:
These as the tim'rous fowl from far descrie,
(Sore dread, I ween, to all the feather'd kinde)
Dismay'd, dispers'd, and cowring low, they flie,
Tho' oft transfix'd their lives they leave ith' loftie skie.
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XXVI
Nature to him her dark breast doth disclose,His pierceant eye looks thro' the shades of night;
And all beneath the earth and sea he knows,
Ne ought is hidden from his searching sight:
Eft rare and secret things he brings to light;
And Earth's deep womb ransacking with his art,
An house hath built with various beauties dight,
(Not found, I ween, in ev'ry common mart,)
Gold glitters all around, and shines in ev'ry part.
XXVII
Als on the confines of his drear domaineA loftie Tower rears it's tremendous height;
From off whose goodlie battlements are seen
Extensive scenes of wonder and delight:
But in a gulph are her foundations pight;
Which, tho' conceal'd with verdure fair, doth gape,
Unseen, both night and day, for living wight:
And ill betide that caitiffe, whose mishappe
Dothe lead him to the pitte, whence he can ne'er escape.
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XXVIII
So wills that darke and sable-stoled Mage,Who in those walles his art dothe exercise;
Ne ought with him availeth sexe or age;
Ne hoary elde, ne tender infant's cries
Can melt his iron heart in any wise:
Als by his power and virtue magicalle,
A wond'rous yoke about their neckes he ties,
Which eft their tender skinnes doth frette and galle,
All silkenne as it seems, with sore and endlesse thralle.
XXIX
So surelie firme he ties this Gordian Knotte,As ev'n exceeds his own art to untie;
And so ill-suited deals to each their lotte,
Using his wicked arts so wantonlie,
His cruel sport doth cause great miserie:
Each ill-pair'd Couple tugge the magick chaine,
And their reluctant neckes together plie,
And still for freedom praie and strive amaine;
He sits and laughs to scorne their labour, all in vaine.
| The Works of Richard Owen Cambridge | |