h, as
with Lord Grey, Spenser comes to history; and he even seems to have been
moved, as the poem went on, partly by pity, partly by amusement, to
shadow forth in his imaginary world, not merely Ralegh's brilliant
qualities, but also his frequent misadventures and mischances in his
career at Court. Of all her favourites Ralegh was the one whom his
wayward mistress seemed to find most delight in tormenting. The offence
which he gave by his secret marriage suggested the scenes describing the
utter desolation of Prince Arthur's squire, Timias, at the jealous wrath
of the Virgin Huntress, Belphoebe,--scenes, which extravagant as they
are, can hardly be called a caricature of Ralegh's real behaviour in the
Tower in 1593. But Spenser is not satisfied with this one picture. In
the last Book Timias appears again, the victim of slander and ill-usage,
even after he had recovered Belphoebe's favour; he is baited like a
wild bull, by mighty powers of malice, falsehood, and calumny; he is
wounded by the tooth of the Blatant Beast; and after having been cured,
not without difficulty, and not without significant indications on the
part of the poet that his friend had need to restrain and chasten his
unruly spirit, he is again delivered over to an ignominious captivity,
and the insults of Disdain and Scorn.

Then up he made him rise, and forward fare,
Led in a rope which both his hands did bynd;
Ne ought that foole for pity did him spare,
But with his whip, him following behynd,
Him often scourg'd, and forst his feete to fynd:
And other-whiles with bitter mockes and mowes
He would him scorne, that to his gentle mynd
Was much more grievous then the others blowes:
Words sharpely wound, but greatest griefe of scorning growes.

Spenser knew Ralegh only in the promise of his adventurous prime--so
buoyant and fearless, so inexhaustible in project and resource, so
unconquerable by checks and reverses. The gloomier portion of Ralegh's
career was yet to come: its intrigues, its grand yet really gambling and
unscrupulous enterprises, the long years of prison and authorship, and
its not unfitting close, in the English statesman's death by the
headsman--so tranquil though violent, so ceremoniously solemn, so
composed, so dignified;--such a contrast to all other forms of capital
punishment, then or since.

Spenser has been compared to Pindar, and contrasted with Cervantes. The
contrast, in point o