Whose moss'd and fractured steps might lend The means the summit to ascend; And by whose aid the brave De Vaux Began to scale these magic rocks,
And soon a platform won, Where, the wild witchery to close, Within three lances' length arose
The Castle of Saint John! No misty phantom of the air, No meteor-blazon'd show was there; In morning splendour, full and fair, The massive fortress shone.
Embattled high and proudly tower'd, Shaded by pond'rous flankers, lower'd The portal's gloomy way.
Though for six hundred years and more, Its strength had brook'd the tempest's roar, The scutcheon'd emblems which it bore Had suffer'd no decay :
But from the eastern battlement A turret had made sheer descent, And, down in recent ruin rent, In the mid torrent lay.
Else, o'er the Castle's brow sublime, Insults of violence or of time
Unfelt had pass'd away. In shapeless characters of yore, The gate this stern inscription bore :-
"Patience waits the destined day, Strength can clear the cumber'd way. Warrior, who hast waited long, Firm of soul, of sinew strong, It is given thee to gaze On the pile of ancient days. Never mortal builder's hand This enduring fabric plann'd; Sign and sigil, word of power, From the earth raised keep and tower. View it o'er, and pace it round, Rampart, turret, battled mound. Dare no more! To cross the gate Were to tamper with thy fate; Strength and fortitude were vain, View it o'er-and turn again."—
"That would I," said the Warrior bold, If that my frame were bent and old, And my thin blood dropp'd slow and cold As icicle in thaw;
But while my heart can feel it dance, Blithe as the sparkling wine of France, And this good arm wields sword or lance, I mock these words of awe!"
He said; the wicket felt the sway Of his strong hand, and straight gave way, And, with rude crash and jarring bray,
The rusty bolts withdraw; But o'er the threshold as he strode, And forward took the vaulted road, An unseen arm, with force amain, The ponderous gate flung close again, And rusted bolt and bar Spontaneous took their place ouce more, While the deep arch with sullen roar Return'd their surly jar.
"Now closed is the gin and the prey within By the Rood of Lanercost!
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.
XVIII. 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 warrior's done of old.
In middle lists they counter'd here,
A sort of doublet, worn beneath the armour.
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, and name, Forgotten long by later fame,
Were here depicted, to appal2 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, The gallant Knight took earnest view The grated wicket-window through.
O, 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 ;3
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
Was but of gossamer.
Each Maiden's short barbaric vest4 Left all unclosed the knee and breast, And limbs of shapely jet;
White was their vest and turban's fold, On arms and ankles rings of gold In savage pomp were set; A quiver on their shoulders lay, And in their hand an assagay. 5 Such and so silent stood they there, That Roland wellnigh 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 licked his jaw;
While these weird Maids, in Moorish tongue,
A wild and dismal warning sung.
Uncouth and strange the accents shrill Rung those vaulted roofs among,
Long it was ere, 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, 'tis 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, choose howe'er I list, I die. Forward, lies faith and knightly fame; Behind, are perjury and shame.
In life or death I hold my word ?" With that he drew his trusty sword,
4 MS.-"Each Maiden's short and savage vest."
5 The MS. has not this couplet.
• Zaharak or Zaharah is the Arab name of the Great Desert,
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 had 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 against pursuit 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.
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
Like the pale moon in morning day; And in the midst four Maidens stand, The daughters of some distant 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.2
"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, Here 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 eyebrows with thy hand. Mid-day sun and diamond's blaze Blind the rash beholder's gaze.”—
2 MS. And, suppliant as on earth they kneel 'd, The Lifts they proffer'd thus revealed."
"Warrior, seize the splendid store; Would 'twere 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 :- "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 greenwood leaves Make to the breezes' sigh.
And oft in such a dreamy mood, The half-shut eye can frame
MS-"Let those boasted gems and pearls Braid the hair of toy-caught girls."
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 greenwood shado 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, wreathed 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 gave the eye 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.
"Gentle Knight, a while 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 allow 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'er-
Gentle 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 2 of desolate despair, These smothering clouds of poison'd air, How gladly had De Vaux exchanged, Though 'twere 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 ; "Tis 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 dres'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,
MS.-"As round the band of sirens press'd, One damsel's laughing lip he kiss'd."
MS." This state," &c.
8 MS. Of laurel leaves was made."
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