Spite of the league, he makes proud Milan bend,
And there in young Sforzesco finds a friend.
See! Bourbon, when the Belgian troops advance,
Defends the city for the king of France.
Behold where now on other thoughts intent,

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King Francis ponders many a great event,

His people's cruelty and pride unknown,

That lost him soon fair Milan's conquer'd town. '
Another Francis see, alike in name

320

And virtue to his great forefather's fame.

The Franks expell'd, he wins his native soil,
And holy church rewards his pious toil.

France turns again, but on Ticino's shores

Brave Mantua's duke repels th' advancing powers: 325
And Frederic, ere his cheek unfledg'd displays
The bloom of manhood, merits lasting praise:
He with his sword and lance, with every art
Of war, that makes the soldier's noblest part,
Can Pavia's walls defend from Gallic rage,
And Leo's fury on the seas engage.

330

Ver. 314. See! Bourbon,-] Ferrando, king of Spain, being dead, the emperor Maximilian invaded Lombardy with fourteen thousand Switzers and seven thousand Belgians, with an intention of laying siege to Milan, defended by Trivulzio and Charles of Bourbon.

Eugenico.

Ver. 320. Another Francis see,-] The emperor Charles V. made a league with pope Leo, in order to drive the French out of Milan, and restore Francisco Sforza, nephew of the first Francis, and son of Ludovico il Moro. The French were become odious to the Milanese from the pride of Lautrec and his brother. Sforza at length engaging Lautrec, put him to flight, and entering the city by night, was made duke.

Eugenico.

Then two, that bear the rank of marquis, stand,
Our dread, and glory of th' Italian land.

Both from one blood, both own one natal earth :
The first from that Alphonso drew his birth;
The marquis taken in the negro's soil

Whose blood thou see'st distain the mourning toil..
Behold how by his prudent counsels given,
From Italy th' invading Franks are driven.
The second chief, whose noble mien declares
His noble soul, the rule o'er Vasto bears,
Alphonso nam'd---lo! this the gallant knight
Whose form so late I pointed to your sight
In Ischia's isle, of whom the sage of old
To royal Pharamond so much foretold;

Whose birth high Heaven to distant time delay'd
When harass'd Italy requires his aid;

335

340

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What time the holy church and empire most

Such valour claim against a barbarous host;
He with his kinsman of Pescara stands;

350

And Prospero Colonna near commands.

Through him th' Helvetian makes his swift return, Through him the Franks their former triumphs mourn. Behold again her arinies France address

With better hope to heal her ill success.

One camp the king in Lombardy extends;

And one, prepar'd for Naple's siege, he sends:

355

Ver. 354. Behold again her armics--] King Francis resolving to recover the Duchy of Milan, passed into Lombardy with a great army, when all submitted to him except Padua; but being attacked in the night by the Marquisses of Pescara and Vasto, he was vanquished and made prisoner, though afterwards set at liberty upon. giving up his sons for hostages.

Eugenico..

But she* (by whom the hopes of human kind'
Are tost like chaff, that flits before the wind;
Like grains of sand, that whirling round and round, 360
The tempest lifts, or scatters o'er the ground)
His every purpose foils---while at his call

He deems that thousands wait near Pavia's wall,
The monarch little heeds the war's array,
Nor marks how ranks increase, or ranks decay,
By selfish counsellors himself deceiv'd

365

The simple dictates of his heart believ'd;
Hence, when at night the camp was rouz'd to arms,
The bands but thinly answer'd to th' alarms;
The wary Spaniards in their works they view,
In dread assault, who bring the generous two
Of Avolo's high blood, with them to dare
The fiercest terrors of invasive war.

Behold the noblest of the race of France

370

Stretch'd on the plain--behold how many a lance, 375
How many a sword the dauntless king defies:
Behold beneath him slain his courser lies!
On foot he combats, bath'd in hostile blood:
But virtue, that superior force has stood,
At length to numbers yield---behold him made
A prisoner now, and now to Spain convey'd.
Pescara thus the honours shall divide

380

With him that ever battles at his side:
With Vasto's lord such wreaths Pescara gains,
A host defeated and a king in chains.
One camp at Pavia broken; one whose course
Is bent for Pavia, dwindles in its force;

385

* Fortune.

Cut from supplies, it halts in middle way,

Like dying flames when oil and wax decay.
Lo! where the king in Spanish prison leaves

390

His sons, while him once more his land receives;
And while in Italy the war he bears,

On his own realm another war prepares.
What devastation and what slaughter spread

395

On every side, have Rome's distraction bred !
All laws are trampled, human and divine,
Virgins are forc'd, and burnt the sacred shrine!
The camp beholds the league in ruin fall,
Each tumult hears, yet, deaf to honour's call,
Shrinks from the field, and leaves to hostile hands 400
Great Peter's successor in shameful bands.

The king has, by Lotrecco led, combin'd
His force, no more on Lombardy design'd:
But from profane and impious power to free
The head and members of the holy see.
He finds the pontiff freed, besieg'd the town
Where lies the Syren, and the realm o'erthrown.
Behold th' imperial ships the harbour leave,
Their succour for the town besieg'd to give:
Behold where Dorea sails their force to meet,

405

410

Who sinks and burns and breaks their scatter'd fleet.

Ver. 391. What devastation--] In this passage the poet describes the miserable sack of Rome, and the taking of the chief pontiff Clement VII. by the Belgian soldiers, under the command of Bourbon.

Porcacchi.

Ver. 407. Where lies the Syren--] By this city he means Naples, anciently called Parthenope, from a name of one of the Syrens, said to have been buried there.

Porcacchi.

Ver, 410. Behold where Dorea] He alludes here to the great naval engagement at Cape d'Orso, between the Imperialists and

See Fortune shifts at length her changeful face,
Till now so friendly to the Gallic race;

For slain by fevers, not by sword or lance,
Of thousands scarce a man revisits France.
Such were the story'd deeds that brightly glow'd
In magic tints by Merlin's art bestow'd:
Here long to tell-each guest with new delight
Return'd to gaze, unsated with the sight,
And oft beneath they read each subject told
In characters of fair-recording gold.

The beauteous dames and all the social crew
Beguil'd with talk the hours that swifter flew:
At length the castle's lord to welcome rest,
With honour due, conducted every guest.

Now all the house to balmy sleep resign'd,
On her soft couch the martial fair reclin'd,
Oft chang'd from right to left her weary side,
But still in vain to soothe her cares she try'd

415

420

425

Till near the dawn she clos'd awhile her eyes,

430

When to her sight Rogero seem'd to rise,

And thus to speak-Ah! wherefore now complain

Of lying tales and waste thy youth in vain?

First shalt thou see the rivers backward flow,
Ere for another I thy love forego.

435

When thee I scorn---no longer I delight

In vital air, or cheering rays of sight!

Then thus he seem'd to say---Behold me here T'embrace that faith which Christain knights revere,

the French, while Naples was besieged, when the French fleet was commanded by Count Philip Dorea, who held the place of Andrew Dorea, of whom so much is said in the xvth Book.

Porcacchi,