Die

gabe seiner sämmtlichen Werke ist die von Todd besorgte, London 1806, 8 Bde. in 8.
Faerie queene ward oft besonders aufgelegt; die beste Ausgabe erschien London 1751, 3 Bde. in 4.
Es ist ein romantisches allegorisirendes Epos, dessen Inhalt der Dichter dem Sagenkreise des
Königs Arthur entlehute.

From the Faerie Queene. So she to Guyon offred it to tast; Much wondred Guyon at the fayre aspect

Who, taking it out of her tender hond,

The cup to ground did violently cast,
Of that sweet place, yet suffred no delight
To sincke into his sence, nor mind affect;

That all in peeces it was broken fond,

And with the liquor stained all the lond: But passed forth, and lookt still forward right,

Whereat Excesse exceedinly was wroth, Brydling his will and maystering his might:

Yet no’te the same amend, ne yet withstond, Till that he came unto another gate;

But suffered him to passe, all were she loth; No gate, but like one, being goodly dight With bowes and braunches, which did broad

Who, nought regarding her displeasure, forward

goth. dilate Their clasping armes in wanton wreathings in

tricate:

There the most daintie paradise on ground
Itselfe doth offer to his sober eye,

In which all pleasures plenteously abownd,
So fashioned a porch with rare device

And none does others happinesse envye; Archt over head with an embracing vine,

The painted flowres; the trees upshooting hye; Whose bounches hanging downe seemd to entice The dales for shade; the hilles for breathing All passers-by to taste their lushious wine

space; And did themselves into their hands incline,

The trembling groves; the christall running by; As freely offering to be gathered;

And, that which all faire workes doth most Some deepe empurpled as the hyacine,

aggrace, Some as the rubine laughing sweetely red,

The art, which all that wrought appeared in no Some like faire emeraudes, not yet well ripened:

place.

One would have thought (so cunningly the rude And them amongst some were of burnisht gold,

And scorned partes were mingled with the fine), So made by art to beautify the rest,

That Vature had for wantonesse ensude Which did themselves emongst the leaves en

Art, and that Art at Nature did repine; fold,

So striving each th' other to undermine, As lurking from the vew of covetous guest, Each did the others worke more beautify; That the weake boughes with so rich load

So difføring both in willes agreed in fine; opprest

So all agreed, through sweete diversity,
Did bow adowne as overburdened.

This gardin to adorne with all variety.
Under that porch a comely dame did rest
Clad in fayre weedes but fowle disordered,
And garments loose that seemd unmeet for And in the midst of all a fountaine stood,

womanhed:

Of richest substance that on Earth might bee,
So pure and shiny that the silver flood

Through every channell running one might see; In her left hand a cup of gold she held,

Most goodly it with curious ymageree And with her right the riper fruit did reach,

Was over-wrought, and shapes of naked boyes, Whose sappy liquor, that with fulnesse sweld, Of which some seemd with lively jollitee Into her cup she scruzd with daintie breach To fly about, playing their wanton toyes, Of her fine fingers, without fowle empeach, Whylest others did themselves embay in liquid That so faire winepresse made the wine more

joyes.

sweet:

Thereof she usd to give to drinke to each, And over all of purest gold was spred
Whom passing by she happened to meet: A trayle of yvie in his native hew:
It was her guise all straungers goodly so to For the rich metall was so coloured,

greet.

That wight, who did not well avis'd it vew,

Would surely deeme it to bee yvie trew; Such seemed they, and so their yellow heare
Low his lascivious armes adown did creepe, Christalline humor dropped downe apace.
That themselves dipping in the silver dew Whom such when Guyon saw, he drew him
Their fleecy flowres they fearefully did steepe,

neare, Which drops of christall seemd for wantones to And somewhat gan relent his earnest pace;

weep.
His stubborne brest gan secret pleasaunce to

embrace.
Infinit streames continually did well
Out of this fountaine, sweet and faire to see,

The wanton maidens him espying, stood The which into an ample laver fell,

Gazing awhile at his unwonted guise; And shortly grew to so great quantitie,

Then th' one herselfe low ducked in the flood, That like a litle lake it seemd to bee,

Abasht that her a straunger did avise: Whose depth exceeded not three cubits hight,

But th' other rather higher dill arise That through the waves one might the bottom

And her two lilly paps aloft displayd, see,

And all, that might his melting hart entyse All pav'd beneath with jaspar shining bright,

To her delights, she unto him bewrayd; That seemd the fountaine in that sea did sayle The rest, hidd underneath, him more desirous upright.

made.

And all the margent round about was sett
With shady laurell trees, thence to defend With that the other likewise up arose,
The sunny beames which on the billowes bett,

And her faire lockes, which formerly were And those which therein bathed mote offend.

bownd As Guyon hapned by the same to wend,

Up in one knott, she low adowne did lose, Two naked damzelles he therein espyde,

Which flowing long and thick her cloth'd Which therein bathing seemed to contend

arownd, And wrestle wantonly, ne car'd to hyde

And th' yvorie in golden mantle gownd:
Their dainty partes from vew of any which them so th fai spectacle from him was reft,

eyd.
Yet that which reft it no lesse faire was

fownd: Sometimes the one would lift the other quight So hidd in lockes and waves from lookers theft, Above the waters, and then downe againe

Nought but her lovely face she for his looking Her plong, as over-maystered by might,

lett. Where both awhile would covered remaine, And each the other from to rise restraine; The whiles their snowy limbes, as through a Withall she laughed, and she blusht withall,

vele,

That blushing to her laughter gave more grace, So through the christall waves appeared plaine: And laughter to her blusling, as did fall. Then suddeinly both would themselves unhele, Now when they spyde the knight to slacke his And th' amorous sweet spoiles to greedy eyes

pace revele.

Them to behold, and in his sparkling face

The secrete signs of kindled lust appeare, As that faire starre, the messenger of morne, Their wanton merriments they did encreace, His deawy face out of the sea doth reare: And to him beckned to approch more neare, Or as the Cyprian goddesse, newly borne And shewd him many sights that corage cold Of th' ocean's fruitfull froth, did first appeare:

could reare.

Sidney.

Einer der grossartigsten und ausgezeichnetsten Männer der bedeutenden Zeit, der er angehörte, ward Sir Philipp Sidney am 20. November 1554 zu Penshurst in Kent geboren, studirte noch sehr jung in Oxford und machte dann eine grosse Reise durch Europa. Bei seiner Rückkehr vermählte er sich, aber scine Gattin, so schön sie auch sein mochte, war nicht die Dame seines Herzens, dies gehörte der Lady Penelope Devereux (der Pbiloelea seines Arkadiens und der Stella seines Astrophel) welche Familienrücksichten ihm verwehrt hatten als Gemahlin heimzuführen. Die Königin Elisabeth schenkte ihm schon früh ihre Gunst und Sidney zeigte sich als tapterer Krieger wie als unsichtiger Staatsmann derselben fortwährend im höchsten Grade würdig. Er starb an einer, bei der Schlacht von Zütphen am 22. September 1586 erhaltenen tödtlichen Wunde und wurde mit grosser Pracht in der St. Paulskirche zu London beigesetzt.

Sidney hinterliess einen mit Versen untermischten Schäferroman, Arkadia, eine zusammenhängende Reihe von Sonetten, Astrophel and Stella betitelt, viele kleinere, besonders lyrische Gedichte und einige prosaische Schriften. Die beste Ausgabe seiner sämmtlichen Werke ist die vierzehnte, London 1725, 3 Bde. in 8. Eine ausführliche Biographie des vortrefflichen Mannes lieferte Th. Zouch, Memoirs of the Life and Writings of Ph. S. York 1809. 1 Bd. in 4.

Als Dichter zeichnet er sich durch Eleganz, Zartheit, Gedankenreichthum, Phantasie und tiefes Gefühl, so wie durch Herrschaft über Form und Sprache sehr ehrenvoll aus; doch ist er auch nicht frei von dem herrschenden Geschmack seiner Zeit und sein Bestreben das Klassische mit dem Romantischen zu verbinden, führte ilin mitunter zu Verirrungen. Dahin gehört z. B. sein Versuch, englische Hexameter und Alexandriner zu bilden, den man als gänzlich misglückt betrachten muss. Unter seinen kleinen Liedern findet sich dagegen mehr als ein Meisterwerk.

Fulke Greville, Lord Brooke.

Dieser ausgezeichnete Staatsmann, ein Liebling der Königin Elisabeth und Jakob's I. ward 1554 zu Alcaster in Warwickshire geboren, studirte zu Oxford und Cambridge und trat dann in Staatsdienste, in welchen er bis zum Staatskanzler und Pair emporstieg. Er starb am 30. September 1628, von einem seiner Diener, wahrscheinlich in einem Anfall von Wahnsinn, erstochen.

Ausser mehreren didactischen Gedichten hinterliess Lord Brooke zwei Trauerspiele: Alaham und Mustapha, welche ihn als Dichter am Längsten im Andenken der Nachwelt erhalten haben. Er war ein Mann von seltenen Fähigkeiten, aber der Verstand hatte bei Allem, was er that und schrieb, die Oberhand; was ein Poet durch geschickte Combination erreichen kann, das hat er, die Rücksicht auf seine Zeit nicht unbeachtet gelassen, erreicht, aber, allen seinen Leistungen fehlt der warme, lebendige Odem der Begeisterung und des Gefühls; sie, selbst die Trauerspiele, sind Untersuchungen und Abhandlungen in Versen, bei denen man den Scharfsinn des Verfassers bewundert, ohne vom Inhalt ergriffen zu werden.

Scene from Mustapha. While I see who conspire, I seem conspired
A Tragedy.

Against a husband, father, and a mother.
By Fulke Greville, Lord Brooke.

Truth bids me run, by truth I am retired;

Shame leads me both the one way, and the other. (Rossa, Wife 10 Solyman the Turkish Emperor, per- In what a labyrinth is honour cast, suades her Husband, that Mustapha , bis Son by :"Drawn divers ways with sex, with time, with state, former Marriage, and lleir to his crown, seeks his Jife: that she may make way, by the death of Musta-In all which, error's course is infinite, pha, for the advancement of her own children, Zanger By hope, by fear, by spite, by love, and hate; and Camena. Camena the virtuous Daughter of Rossa And but one only way unto the right, defends the Innocence of Mustapha in a Conference which she holds with the Emperor.) A thorny way, where pain must be the guide,

Danger the light, offence of power the praise : Camena. Solyman.

Such are the golden hopes of iron days. Cam. They that from youth do suck at for- Yet virtue, I am thine, for thy sake grieved tune's breast,

(Since basest thoughts, for their ill-plac'd desires, And nurse their empty hearts with seeking higher, In shame, in danger, death and torment, glory), Like dropsy - fed, their thirst doth never rest; That I cannot with more pains write thy story. For still, by getting, they beget desire: Chance, therefore, if thou scornest those that Till thaughts, like wood, while they maintain

scorn thee; the flame

Fame, if thou hatest those that force thy trumpet Of high desires, grow ashes in the same. To sound aloud, and yet despise thy sounding; But virtue! those that can behold thy beauties, Laws, if you love not those that be examples Those that suck, from their youth, thy milk of Of nature's laws, whence you are fall’n corrupted; goodness,

Conspire that I, against you all conspired, Their minds grow strong against the storms of Joined with tyrant virtue, as you call her, fortune,

That I, by your revenges may be named, And stand, like rocks in winter-gusts, unshaken; For virtue, to be ruin'd, and defamed. Not with the blindness of desire mistaken. My mother oft and diversly I warned, O virtue therefore! whose thrall I think fortune, What fortunes were upon such courses builded : Thou who despisest not the sex of women, That fortune still must be with ill maintained, Help me out of these riddles of my fortune, Which at the first with any ill is gained. Wherein (methinks) you with yourself do pose me: I Rosten warn'd, that man's self-loving thought Let fates go on : sweet virtue! do not lose me. Still creepeth to the rude - embracing might My mother and my husband have conspired, Of princes' grace: a lease of glories let, For brother's good, the ruin of my brother: Which shining burns; beeds serenes when 'tis set. My father by my mother is inspired,

And, by this creature of my mother's making, For one child to seek ruin of another.

This messenger, I Mustapha have warn'd, I that to help by nature am required,

That innocence is not enough to save, While I do help, must needs still hurt a brother. Where good and greatness, fear and envy have.