Who, thus instructed, led to postern gate The rabble rout, for so they push’d and strove; So in this world, each jostling crowds his mate To push him by, and strive before him move; So urged the crowd, more like to herd or drove, While he Sir Herald’s charger paw’d the ground, Impatient check’d his fiery speed to prove; Sir Gallant’s bearing awed the throng around, When high he held his horn, as if prepared to sound. CCXVIII. One shrill loud blast the noisy rabble stay’d, That far resounded through the spacious court, And with less tumult silenced them afraid, And caused their egress make with grave deport; For rude disorder was forbid resort, Nor could admittance to that palace gain, But disobeyed sore punishment it brought. This he, Sir Herald, hinted to restrain Their rude unseemly din, from which they did refrain. CCXIX. The lofty entrance-porch they straightway reach, Through whose wide gate the multitude outpour; The world before them spread, o’er which to search For happiness, perchance for them in store, An “_Ignis Fatuus_” proved in days of yore; If pleasure be their aim, or sordid gain, Such do their seekers cheat for evermore; While others, virtuous knowledge to attain Far wiser, deem all else as profitless and vain. CCXX. Some charm’d by Art, others by Science led, And Nature some her secret wonders trace; Fresh beauties found thus lavishly dispread, So far surpassing art in bounteous grace; Some thoughtful seek the darling Muse embrace, While, Cincinnatus like, some wield the plough; Or laws bestow, Lycurgus of their race; Soft pleasure seek, or love for mammon show; Or sluggish, sottish live, like swine in filthy slough. CCXXI. Their several ways dispersed, and noisy sound Of rabble route, that silence scared to hear, Which glades and woods affrighted heard around, Unusual uproar and loud discord near, Whereat went bounding forth the startled deer, Whose forests have resumed their silent reign, With here and there a note of wild bird clear, Mellifluous heard with sad and mournful plain; While all reposed as if nought living did remain. CCXXII. The slow descending sun hath shed his beam With slanting ray, that fall on turret bright, And shone on oriel stained with golden gleam; Its porphyry pillars blazed with dazzling light, Like fair enchantment to beholder’s sight, A palace spied of some dark wizard king; But now the shadows dim of coming night ’Gan hover round, its gloomy folds to fling O’er every living wight and every living thing. CCXXIII.