When me my sun doth of his rays deprive,
Against me felon Fear uplifts his horn:
But they the shades of night no sooner drive,
Than Fears are past and gone, and Hopes return.
Return, alas! return, O radiance dear!
And drive from me that foul, consuming Fear.
“If the sun turn from us and shorten day,
Earth all its beauties from the sight doth hide;
The wild winds howl, and snows and ice convey;
Bird sings not; nor is leaf or flower espied.
So, whensoever thou thy gladsome ray,
O my fair sun, from me dost turn aside,
A thousand, and all evil, dreads, make drear
Winter within me many times a year.
“Return, my sun, return! and springtide sweet,
Which evermore I long to see, bring back;
Dislodge the snows and ice with genial hear;
And clear my mind, so clouded o’er and black.”
As Philomel, or Progne, with the meat
Returning, which her famished younglings lack,
Mourns o’er an empty nest, or as the dove
Laments himself at having lost is love;
The unhappy Bradamant laments her so,
Fearing the Child is reft from her and gone;
While often tears her visage overflow:
But she, as best she can, conceals her moan.
Oh! how—oh! how much worse would be her woe,
If what she knew not to the maid were known!
That, prisoned and with pain and pine consumed,
Her consort to a cruel death was doomed.
The cruelty which by that beldam ill
Was practised on the prisoned cavalier,
And who prepared the wretched Child to kill,
By torture new and pains unused whilere,
While so Rogero pined, the gracious will
Of Heaven conveyed to gentle Leo’s ear;
And put into his heart the means to aid,
And not to let such worth be overlaid.
The courteous Leo that Rogero loved,
Not that the Grecian knew howe’er that he
Rogero was, but by that valour moved
Which sole and superhuman seemed to be,
Thought much, and mused, and planned, how it behoved
—And found at last a way—to set him free;
So that his cruel aunt should have no right
To grieve or say he did her a despite.
In secret, Leo with the man that bore
The prison-keys a parley had, and said,
“He wished to see that cavalier, before
Upon the wretch was done a doom so dread.”
When it was night, one, faithful found of yore,
Bold, strong, and good in brawl, he thither led;
And—by the silent warder taught that none
Must know ’twas Leo—was the door undone.
Leo, escorted by none else beside,
Was led by the compliant castellain,
With his companion, to the tower, where stied
Was he, reserved for nature’s latest pain.
There round the neck of their unwary guide,
Who turns his back the wicket to unchain,
A slip-knot Leo and his follower cast;
And, throttled by the noose, he breathes his last.541
—The trap upraised, by rope from thence suspended,
For such a need—the Grecian cavalier,
With lighted flambeau in his hand, descended,
Where, straitly bound, and without sun to cheer,
Rogero lay, upon a grate extended,
Less than a palm’s breadth of the water clear
To kill him in a month, or briefer space,
Nothing was needed but that deadly place.
Lovingly Leo clipt the Child, and, “Me,
O cavalier! thy matchless valour,” cried,
“Hath in indissoluble bands to thee,
In willing and eternal service, tried;
And wills thy good to mine preferred should be,
And I for thine my safety set aside,
And weigh thy friendship more than sire, and all
Whom I throughout the world my kindred call.
“I Leo am, that thou what fits may’st know,
Come to thy succour, the Greek emperor’s son:
If ever Constantine, my father, trow
That I have aided thee, I danger run
To be exiled, or aye with troubled brow
Regarded for the deed that I have done;
For thee he hates because of those thy blade
Put to the rout and slaughtered near Belgrade.”
He his discourse with more beside pursues,
That might from death to life the Child recall;
And all this while Rogero’s hands doth loose.
“Infinite thanks I owe you,” cries the thrall,
“And I the life you gave me, for your use
Will ever render back, upon your call;
And still, at all your need, I for your sake,
And at all times, that life will promptly stake.”
Rogero is rescued; and the gaoler slain
Is left in that dark dungeon in his place;
Nor is Rogero known, nor are the twain:
Leo the warrior, free from bondage base,
Brings home, and there in safety to remain
Persuades, in secret, four or six days’ space:
“Meanwhile for him will he retrieve the gear
And courser, by Ungiardo reft whilere.”
Open the gaol is found at dawn of light,
The gaoler strangled, and Rogero gone.
Some think that these or those had helped his flight:
All talk; and yet the truth is guessed by none.
Well may they think by any other wight
Rather than Leo had the deed been done;
For many deemed he had cause to have repaid
The Child with scathe, and none to give him aid.
So wildered by such kindness, so immersed
In wonder, is the rescued cavalier,
So from those thoughts is he estranged, that erst
So many weary miles had made him steer,
His second thoughts confronting with his first,
Nor these like those, nor those like these appear.
He first with hatred, rage, and venom burned;
With pity and with love then wholly yearned.
Much muses he by night and much by day;
—Nor cares for ought, nor ought desires beside—
By equal or more courtesy to pay
The mighty debt that him to Leo tied.
Be his life long or short, or what it may,
Albeit to Leo’s service all applied,
Dies he a thousand deaths, he can do nought,
But more will be deserved, Rogero thought.
Thither meanwhile had tidings been conveyed
Of Charles’ decree; “that who in nuptial tie
Would
