“That house’s
form within was rude and strong,
Like
an huge cave hewn out of rocky clift,
From whose rough
vault the ragged breaches hung,
Embossed
with massy gold of glorious gift,
And with rich
metal loaded every rift,
That
heavy ruin they did seem to threat:
And over them
Arachne high did lift
Her
cunning web, and spread her subtle net,
Enwrapped in foul smoke, and
clouds more black than jet.
Both roof and
floor, and walls were all of gold,
But
overgrown with dust and old decay, [4]
And hid in darkness
that none could behold
The
hue thereof: for view of cheerful day
Did never in that
house itself display,
But
a faint shadow of uncertain light;
Such as a lamp
whose life doth fade away;
Or
as the moon clothed with cloudy night
Does shew to him that walks
in fear and sad affright.
* * * * * * *
And over all sad
Horror with grim hue
Did
always soar, beating his iron wings;
And after him
owls and night-ravens flew,
The
hateful messengers of heavy things,
Of death and dolour
telling sad tidings;
Whiles
sad Celleno, sitting on a clift,
A song of bitter
bale and sorrow sings,
That
heart of flint asunder could have rift;
Which having ended, after
him she flieth swift.”
___ [4] “That all with one consent praise new-born gauds, Tho’ they are made and moulded of things past, And give to Dust, that is a little gilt, More laud than gold o’er-dusted.” Troilus and Cressida. ___
The Cave of Despair is described with equal gloominess and power of fancy; and the fine moral declamation of the owner of it, on the evils of life, almost makes one in love with death. In the story of Malbecco, who is haunted by jealousy, and in vain strives to run away from his own thoughts—
“High over hill and over dale he flies”—