By Ebro’s sunny bank, or other place,
As (hiding murderous hate, while I implore)
I exercise my lover still in strife,
With the same fell design upon his life.
“Unable to achieve my first intent,
I on a scheme of no less mischief fall:
Through me, all deemed his friends by him are shent,
Who thus bring down on him the hate of all.
The Thracian leader never more content
Than to obey, whatever be the call,
Is at my bidding ever prompt to smite,
Without regarding who or what the wight.
“When I perceive that, through the warrior’s mean,
Extinguished is my father’s every foe;
And, conquered by himself, that knight is seen
—Friendless, through us—I now the masque forego:
What I, from him, beneath a flattering mien,
Had hitherto concealed, I plainly show;
—What deep and deadly hate by bosom fired,
And that I but to work his death desired.
“Then, thinking if such course I should pursue,
That public shame would still the deed attend,
(For men too well my obligations knew,
And would be prompt my cruelty to shend.)
Meseemed enough to drive him from my view,
So that he should no more my eyes offend;
Nor would I more address or see the peer,
Nor letter would receive or message hear.
“This my ingratitude in him such pain
At length produced, that mastered by his woe,
After entreating mercy long in vain,
He sickened sore and sank beneath the blow.
For pain which fits my sin, dark fumes now stain
My cheek, and with salt rheum mine eyes o’erflow.
Thus in eternal torment shall I dwell;
For saving mercy helpeth not in hell.”
Since wretched Lydia spake no more, the peer
Would fain discern if more in torment lay;
But, those false ingrates’ curse, the darkness drear
So waxed before him, and obscured the way,
That not one inch advanced the cavalier;
Nay, back parforce returns that warrior; nay,
Himself from that increasing smoke to save,
Makes for the mouth of the disastrous cave.
The motion of his quickly shifting feet
More savours of a run than walk or trot.
Thus mounting the ascent in swift retreat,
Astolpho sees the outlet of the grot;
Where, through the darkness of that dismal seat
And those foul fumes, a dawn of daylight shot;
He from the cavern, sorely pained and pined,
Issues at last, and leaves the smoke behind;
And next to bar the way against that band,
Whose greedy bellies so for victual crave,
Picks stones, and trees lays level with his brand,
Which charged with pepper or amomum wave;
And what might seem a hedge, with busy hand,
As best he can, constructs before the cave;
And so succeeds in blocking that repair,
The harpies shall no more revisit air.
While in that cave Astolpho did remain,
The fumes that from the sable pitch arose,
Not only what appeared to sight did stain;
But even so searched the flesh beneath his clothes,
He sought some cleansing stream, long sought in vain:
But found at length a limpid till, which rose
Out of a living rock, within that wood,
And bathed himself all over in the flood.
Then backed the griffin-horse, and soared a flight
Whereby to reach that mountain’s top he schemes;
Which little distant, with its haughty height,
From the moon’s circle good Astolpho deems;
And, such desire to see it warms the knight,
That he aspires to heaven, nor earth esteems.
Through air so more and more the warrior strains,
That he at last the mountain-summit gains.
Here sapphire, ruby, gold, and topaz glow,
Pearl, jacinth, chrysolite and diamond lie,
Which well might pass for natural flowers which blow,
Catching their colour from that kindly sky.
So green the grass! could we have such below,
We should prefer it to our emerald’s dye.
As fair the foliage of those pleasant bowers!
Whose trees are ever filled with fruit and flowers.
Warble the wanton birds in verdant brake,
Azure, and red, and yellow, green and white.
The quavering rivulet and quiet lake
In limpid hue surpass the crystal bright.
A breeze, which with one breath appears to shake,
Aye, without fill or fall, the foliage light,
To the quick air such lively motion lends,
That Day’s oppressive noon in nought offends;
And this, mid fruit and flower and verdure there,
Evermore stealing divers odours, went;
And made of those mixt sweets a medley rare,
Which filled the spirit with a calm content.
In the mid plain arose a palace fair,
Which seemed as if with living flames it brent.
Such passing splendour and such glorious light
Shot from those walls, beyond all usage bright.
Thither where those transparent walls appear,
Which cover more than thirty miles in measure,
At ease and slowly moved the cavalier,
And viewed the lovely region at his leisure;
And deemed—compared with this—that sad and drear,
And seen by heaven and nature with displeasure,
Was the foul world, wherein we dwell below:
So jocund this, so sweet and fair in show!
Astound with wonder, paused the adventurous knight,
When to that shining palace he was nigh,
For, than the carbuncle more crimson bright,
It seemed one polished stone of sanguine dye.
O mighty wonder! O Daedalian sleight!
What fabric upon earth with this can vie?
Let them henceforth be silent, that in story
Exalt the world’s seven wonders to such glory!
An elder, in the shining entrance-hall
Of that glad house, towards Astolpho prest;
Crimson his waistcoat was, and white his pall;
Vermillion seemed the mantle, milk the vest:
White was that ancient’s hair, and white withal
The bushy beard descending to his breast;
And from his reverend face such glory beamed,
Of the elect of Paradise he seemed.
He, with glad visage, to the paladin,
Who humbly, from his sell had lighted, cries:
“O gentle baron, that by will divine
Have soared to this terrestrial paradise!
Albeit nor you the cause of your design,
Nor you the scope of your desire surmise,
Believe, you not without high mystery steer430
