But he that would win the war-wolf's skin
May rue him of his boast.»>Thus muttering, on the warrior went, By dubious light down steep descent.
Unbarr'd, unlock'd, unwatch'd, a port Led to the castle's outer court:
There the main fortress, broad and tall, Spread its long range of bower and hall,
And towers of varied size, Wrought with each ornament extreme, That Gothic art, in wildest dream
Of fancy, could devise.
But full between the warrior's way
And the main portal-arch, there lay
An inner moat;
Nor bridge nor boat
Affords De Vaux the means to cross The clear, profound, and silent fosse. His arms aside in haste he flings, Cuirass of steel and hauberk rings,
And down falls helm and down the shield, Rough with the dints of many a field. Fair was his manly form, and fair His keen dark eye, and close-curl'd hair, When,-all unarm'd, save that the brand Of well-proved metal graced his hand, With nought to fence his dauntless breast But the close gipon's under-vest, Whose sullied buff the sable stains Of hauberk and of mail retains,- Roland De Vaux upon the brim
Of the broad moat stood prompt to swim.
Accoutred thus he dared the tide, And soon he reach'd the farther side, And enter'd soon the hold,
And paced a hall, whose walls so wide Were blazon'd all with feats of pride, By warriors done of old.
In middle lists they counter'd here,
While trumpets seem'd to blow; And there, in den or desert drear,
They quell'd gigantic foe, Braved the fierce griffon in his ire, Or faced the dragon's breath of fire. Strange in their arms, and strange in face, Heroes they seem'd of ancient race, Whose deeds of arms, and race, Forgotten long by latter fame, Were here depicted to appal Those of an age degenerate, Whose bold intrusion braved their fate, In this enchanted hall.
For some short space the venturous knight With these high marvels fed his sight; Then sought the chamber's upper end, Where three broad easy steps ascend To an arch'd portal door,
In whose broad-folding leaves of state Was framed a wicket window-grate; And, ere he ventured more,
A sort of doublet, worn beneath the armour.
The gallant knight took earnest view The grated wicket-window through.
Oh for his arms! Of martial weed Had never mortal knight such need! He spied a stately gallery; all Of snow-white marble was the wall,
The vaulting, and the floor; And, contrast strange! on either hand There stood array'd in sable band
Four maids whom Afric bore;
And each a Lybian tiger led,
Held by as bright and frail a thread
As Lucy's golden hair;
For the leash that bound these monsters dread
Each maiden's short barbaric vest Left all unclosed the knee and breast, And limbs of shapely jet; White was their vest and turban's fold, On arms and ancles rings of gold In savage pomp were set;
A quiver on their shoulders lay And in their hand an assagay. Such and so silent stood they there, That Roland well nigh hoped He saw a band of statues rare, Station'd the gazer's soul to scare;
But, when the wicket oped, Each grisly beast 'gan upward draw. Roll'd his grim eye, and spread his claw,
Scented the air, and lick'd his jaw!
While these weird maids, in Moorish tongue, A wild and dismal warning sung.
«Rash adventurer, bear thee back! Dread the spell of Dahomay! Fear the race of Zaharak,
Daughters of the burning day!
« When the whirlwind's gusts are wheeling, Ours it is the dance to braid;
Zarah's sands, in pillars reeling,
Join the measure that we tread, When the moon hath don'd her cloak,
And the stars are red to see, Shrill when pipes the sad siroc, Music meet for such as we.
« Where the shatter'd columns lie, Showing Carthage once had been, If the wandering santon's eye
Our mysterious rites hath seen,— Oft he cons the prayer of death, To the nations preaches doom, 'Azrael's brand bath left the sheath!
Moslems think upon the tomb!'
« Ours the scorpion, ours the snake, Ours the hydra of the fen, Ours the tiger of the brake,
All that plagues the sons of men. Ours the tempest's midnight wrack, Pestilence that wastes by day
Dread the race of Zalarak ! Fear the spell of Dahomay !»-
Uncouth and strange the accents shrill Rung those vaulted roofs among; Long it was cre, faint and still,
Died the far-resounding song. While yet the distant echoes roll,
The warrior communed with his soul.
« When first I took this venturous quest,
I swore upon the rood,
Neither to stop, nor turn, nor rest,
For evil or for good.
My forward path, too well I ween, Lies yonder fearful ranks between ; For man unarm'd, 't is bootless hope With tigers and with fiends to cope— Yet, if I turn, what waits me there, Save famine dire and fell despair?- Other conclusion let me try, Since, chuse howe'er I list, I die. Forward, lies faith and kuightly fame; Behind, are perjury and shame. In life or death I hold my word. »>— With that he drew his trusty sword, Caught down a banner from the wall, And enter'd thus the fearful hall.
On high each wayward maiden threw Her swarthy arm, with wild halloo ! On either side a tiger sprung- Against the leftward foe he flung The ready banner, to engage With tangling folds the brutal rage; The right-hand monster in mid air He struck so fiercely and so fair, Through gullet and through spinal bone The trenchant blade hath sheerly gone. His grisly brethren ramp'd and yell'd But the slight leash their rage withheld, Whilst, 'twixt their ranks, the dangerous road Firmly, though swift, the champion strode. Safe to the gallery's bound he drew, Safe pass'd an open portal through; And when 'gainst followers he flung The gate, judge if the echoes rung! Onward his daring course he bore, While, mix'd with dying growl and roar, Wild jubilee and loud hurra Pursued him on his venturous way.
« Hurra, hurra! Our watch is done! We hail once more the tropic sun. Pallid beams of northern day, Farewell, farewell! Hurra, hurra!
« Five hundred years o'er this cold glen Hath the pale sun come round agen; Foot of man, till now, hath ne'er Dared to cross the Hall of Fear.
<< Warrior! thou, whose dauntless heart Gives us from our ward to part,
Be as strong in future trial, Where resistance is denial.
«Now for Afric's glowing sky, Zwenga wide and Atlas high, Zaharak and Dahomay!
Mount the winds! Hurra, hurra!»—
The wizard song at distance died As if in ether borne astray, While through waste halls and chambers wide The knight pursued his steady way,
Till to a lofty dome he came, That flash'd with such a brilliant flame, As if the wealth of all the world Were there in rich confusion hurl'd. For here the gold, in sandy heaps, With duller earth incorporate sleeps; Was there in ingots piled, and there Coin'd badge of empery it bare; Yonder huge bars of silver lay, Dimm'd by the diamond's neighbouring ray, Like the pale moon in morning day; And in the midst four maidens stand, The daughters of some distaut land. Their hue was of the dark-red dye, That fringes oft a thunder sky, Their hands palmetto baskets bare, And cotton fillets bound their hair; Slim was their form, their mien was shy, To earth they bent the humbled eye, Folded their arms, and suppliant kneel'd, And thus their proffer'd gifts reveal'd.
« See the treasures Merlin piled, Portion meet for Arthur's child. Bathe in Wealth's unbounded stream, Wealth that Avarice ne'er could dream!»
« See these clots of virgin gold! Sever'd from the sparry mould, Nature's mystic alchemy
In the mine thus bade them lie; And their orient smile can win Kings to stoop, and saints to sin.»>
«See these pearls that long have slept; These were tears by Naiads wept
For the loss of Marinel. Tritons in the silver shell
Treasured them, till hard and white As the teeth of Amphitrite.»-
« Does a livelier hue delight? Here are rubies blazing bright, Bere the emerald's fairy green, And the topaz glows between; Here their varied hues unite
In the changeful chrysolite.»
« Leave these gems of poorer shine, Leave them all, and look on mine! While their glories I expand, Shade thine eye-brows with thy hand. Mid-day sun and diamond's blaze Blind the rash beholder's gaze.»>—
« Warrior, seize the splendid store: Would 't were all our mountains bore! We should ne'er in future story, Read, Peru, thy perish'd glory!»——
Calmly and unconcern'd the knight Waved aside the treasures bright: e Gentle maidens, rise, I pray! Bar not thus my destined way. Let these boasted brilliant toys. Braid the hair of girls and boys! Bid your streams of gold expand O'er proud London's thirsty land. De Vaux of wealth saw never need, Save to purvey him arms and steed, And all the ore he deign'd to hoard Inlays his helm, and hilts his sword.»- Thus gently parting from their hold, He left, unmoved, the dome of gold.
And now the morning sun was high, De Vaux was weary, faint, and dry; When lo! a plashing sound he hears, A gladsome signal that he nears
Some frolic water-run;
And soon he reach'd a court-yard square, Where dancing in the sultry air, Toss'd high aloft, a fountain fair
Was sparkling in the sun.
On right and left a fair arcade
In long perspective view display'd
Alleys and bowers, for sun or shade; But full in front, a door, Low-brow'd and dark, seem'd as it led To the lone dwelling of the dead, Whose memory was no more.
Here stopp'd de Vaux an instant's space, To bathe his parched lips and face,
And mark'd with well-pleased eye, Refracted on the fountain stream, In rainbow hues, the dazzling beam Of that gay summer sky. His senses felt a mild control, Like that which lulls the weary soul, From contemplation high Relaxing, when the ear receives The music that the green-wood leaves Make to the breeze's sigh.
And oft in such a dreamy mood, The half-shut eye can frame Fair apparitions in the wood,
As if the nymphs of field and flood In gay procession came.
Are these of such fantastic mould,
Seen distant down the fair arcade, These maids enlink'd in sister-fold, Who, late at bashful distance staid, Now tripping from the green-wood shade, Nearer the musing champion draw, And, in a pause of seeming awe,
Again stand doubtful now ?- Ah, that sly pause of witching powers! That seems to say, « to please be ours,
Be yours to tell us how.»>
Their hue was of the golden glow
That suns of Candahar bestow,
O'er which in slight suffusion flows
A frequent tinge of paly rose;
Their limbs were fashion'd fair and free,
In nature's justest symmetry,
And wreath'd with flowers, with odours graced, Their raven ringlets reach'd the waist;
In eastern pomp, its gilding pale The hennah lent each shapely nail, And the dark sumah
More liquid and more lustrous dye. The spotless veil of misty lawn, In studied disarrangement, drawn The form and bosom o'er,
To win the eye, or tempt the touch, For modesty show'd all too much- Too much-yet promised more. XXXI.
<< Gentle knight, awhile delay,» Thus they sung, « thy toilsome way, While we pay the duty due
To our master and to you.
Over Avarice, over Fear,
Love triumphant led thee here; Warrior, list to us, for we
Are slaves to Love, are friends to thee.
« Though no treasured gems have we, To proffer on the bended knee, Though we boast nor arm nor heart, For the assagay or dart,
Swains have given each simple girl Ruby lip and teeth of pearl; Or, if dangers more you prize, Flatterers find them in our eyes.
Stay, then, gentle warrior, stay, Rest till evening steal on day; Stay, O stay!-in yonder bowers We will braid thy locks with flowers, Spread the feast and fill the wine, Charm thy ear with sounds divine, Weave our dances till delight Yield to languor, day to night.
Then shall she you most approve, Sing the lays that best you love, Soft thy mossy couch shall spread, Watch thy pillow, prop thy head, Till the weary night be o'erGentle warrior, wouldst thou more? Wouldst thou more, fair warrior,-she Is slave to Love and slave to thee.>>
O do not hold it for a crime
In the bold hero of my rhyme, For stoic look,
And meet rebuke,
He lack'd the heart or time; As round the band of sirens trip, He kiss'd one damsel's laughing lip, And press'd another's proffer'd hand, Spoke to them all in accents bland, But broke their magic circle through; « Kind maids,» he said, « adieu, adieu! My fate, my fortune, forward lies.»>- He said, and vanish'd from their eyes; But, as he dared that darksome way, Still heard behind their lovely lay: « Fair Flower of Courtesy, depart! Go, where the feelings of the heart With the warm pulse in concord move: Go, where Virtue sanctions Love !—»
Downward De Vaux through darksome ways And ruin'd vaults has gone,
Till issue from their wilder'd maze,
Or safe retreat, seem'd none; And e'en the dismal path he strays
Grew worse as he went on. For cheerful sun, for living air, Foul vapours rise and mine-fires glare, Whose fearful light the dangers show'd That dogg'd him on that dreadful road. Deep pits, and lakes of waters dun, They show'd, but show'd not how to shun. These scenes of desolate despair, These smothering clouds of poison'd air, How gladly had De Vaux exchanged, Though 't were to face yon tigers ranged!
Nay, soothful bards have said,
So perilous his state seem'd now, He wish'd him under arbour bough With Asia's willing maid.
When, joyful sound! at distance near A trumpet flourish'd loud and clear, And, as it ceased, a lofty lay
Seem'd thus to chide his lagging way.
«Son of Honour, theme of story, Think on the reward before ye! Danger, darkness, toil despise; "T is Ambition bids thee rise.
«He that would her heights ascend, Many a weary step must wend; Hand and foot and knee he tries: Thus Ambition's minions rise.
« Lag not now, though rough the way, Fortune's mood brooks no delay; Grasp the boon that 's spread before ye, Monarch's power, and conqueror's glory !»—
It ceased. Advancing on the sound, A steep ascent the wanderer found, And then a turret stair:
Nor climb'd he far its steepy round Till fresher blew the air, And next a welcome glimpse was given, That cheer'd him with the light of heaven.
At length his toil had won
A lofty hall with trophies dress'd, Where, as to greet imperial guest, Four maidens stood, whose crimson vest Was bound with golden zone.
Of Europe seem'd the damsels all; The first a nymph of lively Gaul, Whose easy step and laughing eye Her borrow'd air of awe belie;
The next a maid of Spain, Dark-eyed, dark-hair'd, sedate, yet bold; White ivory skin and tress of gold, Her shy and bashful comrade told For daughter of Almaine. These maidens bore a royal robe,
With crown, with sceptre, and with globe, Emblems of empery;
The fourth a space behind them stood, And leant upon a harp, in mood Of minstrel ecstasy.
Of merry England she, in dress Like ancient British druidess; Her hair an azure fillet bound,
Her graceful vesture swept the ground, And, in her hand display'd,
A crown did that fourth maiden hold, But unadorn'd with gems and gold, Of glossy laurel made.
At once to brave De Vaux knelt down These foremost maidens three, And proffer'd sceptre, robe, and crown, Liegedom and seignorie
O'er many a region wide and fair, Destined, they said, for Arthur's heir;
But homage would he none :«Rather," he said, « De Vaux would ride, A warder of the Border-side,
In plate and mail, than, robed in pride, A monarch's empire own; Rather, far rather, would he be A free-born knight of England free,
Than sit on despot's throne.>>
So pass'd he on, when that fourth maid, As starting from a trance, Upon the harp her finger laid; Her magic touch the chords obey'd, Their soul awaked at once!
SONG OF THE FOURTH MAIDEN.
«Quake to your foundations deep, Stately tower, and banner'd keep, Bid your vaulted echoes moan, As the dreaded step they own.
<< Fiends that wait on Merlin's spell, Hear the foot-fall! mark it well! Spread your dusky wings abroad, Boune ye for your homeward road.
It is His, the first who e'er
Dared the dismal Hall of Fear; His, who hath the snares defied Spread by Pleasure, Wealth, and Pride.
«Quake to your foundations deep, Bastion huge, and turret steep! Tremble keep, and totter tower! This is Gyneth's waking hour.»
Thus while she sung, the venturous knight Has reach'd a bower, where milder light
Through crimson curtains fell; Such soften'd shade the hill receives, Her purple veil when twilight leaves Upon its western swell.
That bower, the gazer to bewitch, Had wond'rous store of rare and rich As e'er was seen with eye; For there by magic skill, I wis, Form of each thing that living is Was limn'd in proper dye. All seem'd to sleep-the timid hare On form, the stag upon his lair, The eagle in her eyrie fair
Between the earth and sky.
But what of pictured rich and rare
Could win De Vaux's eye-glance, where, Deep slumbering in the fatal chair,
He saw King Arthur's child! Doubt, and anger, and dismay, From her brow had pass'd away, Forgot was that fell tourney-day,
For, as she slept, she smiled. It seem'd that the repentant seer Her sleep of many a hundred year With gentle dreams beguiled.
That form of maiden loveliness, Twixt childhood and 'twixt youth, That ivory chair, that sylvan dress, The arms and ancles bare, express Of Lyulph's tale the truth. Still upon her garment's hem Vanoc's blood made purple gem, And the warder of command Cumber'd still her sleeping hand; Still her dark locks dishevell'd flow From net of pearl o'er breast of snow; And so fair the slumberer seems, That De Vaux impeach'd his dreams, Vapid all and void of might, Hiding half her charms from sight. Motionless awhile he stands,
Folds his arms and clasps his hands,
Trembling in his fitful joy, Doubtful how he shall destroy Long-enduring spell; Doubtful too, when slowly rise Dark-fringed lids of Gyneth's eyes, What these eyes shall tell.
St George! St Mary! can it be, That they will kindly look on me!»>-
Gently, lo! the warrior kneels, Soft that lovely hand he steals, Soft to kiss, and soft to clasp- But the warder leaves her grasp;
Lightning flashes, rolls the thunder! Gyneth startles from her sleep, Totters tower, and trembles keep,
Burst the castle walls asunder! Fierce and frequent were the shocks, Melt the magic halls away—— ——But beneath their mystic rocks, In the arms of bold De Vaux,
Safe the princess lay!
Safe and free from magic power, Blushing like the rose's flower
Opening to the day;
And round the champion's brows was bound The crown that druidess had wound,
Of the green laurel-bay.
And this was what remain'd of all The wealth of each enchanted hall,
The garland and the dame :- But where should warrior seek the meed, Due to high worth for daring deed, Except from LOVE and FAME!
MY LUCY, when the maid is won,
The minstrel's task, thou know'st, is done;
And to require of bard
That to the dregs his tale should run,
Were ordinance too hard.
Our lovers, briefly be it said, Wedded as lovers wont to wed,
When tale or play is o'er;
Lived long and blest, loved fond and true,
And saw a numerous race renew
The honours that they bore. Know, too, that when a pilgrim strays, In morning mist, or evening maze, Along the mountain lone, That fairy fortress often mocks Ilis gaze upon the castled rocks
Of the Valley of Saint John; But never man since brave De Vaux The charmed portal won.
'T is now a vain illusive show,
That melts whene'er the sun-beams glow, Or the fresh breeze hath blown.
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