The library, which, in the House of Astragon, he places near the Cabinet of Death, he calls:
"The monument of vanished minds."
"Where they thought they saw
The assembled souls of all that men held wise."
Of law:
"In little tomes these grave first lawyers lie,
In volumes their interpreters below."
Of polemics:
"About this sacred little book did stand,
Unwieldy volumes, and in number great;
And long it was since any reader's hand
Had reach'd them from their unfrequented seat.
"For a deep dust (which Time does softly shed,
Where only time does come,) their covers bear,
On which grave spiders streets of webs had spread,
Subtle and slight, as the grave writers were.
"In these, Heaven's holy fire does vainly burn;
Nor warms, nor lights, but is in sparkles spent;
Where froward authors, with disputes have torn
The garment seamless as the firmament."
Of the instruction that the pages of Gondibert receive from their lord, he thus speaks:
"But with the early sun he rose, and taught
These youths by growing Virtue to grow great;
Show'd greatness is without it blindly sought,
A desperate charge which ends in base retreat.
"He taught them Shame, the sudden sense of ill;
Shame, nature's hasty conscience, which forbids
Weak inclination ere it grows to will,
Or stays rash will before it grows to deeds.
"He taught them Honour, virtue's bashfulness,
A fort so yieldless that it fears to treat;
Like power, it grows to nothing, growing less;
Honour, the moral conscience of the great.
"He taught them Kindness, soul's civility,
In which nor courts nor cities have a part;
For theirs is fashion, this from falsehood free,
Where love and pleasure know no lust nor art.
