FROM 'GONDIBERT'-CANTO II.

THE ARGUMENT.

The hunting which did yearly celebrate
The Lombards' glory, and the Vandals' fate;
The hunters praised; how true to love they are,
How calm in peace and tempest-like in war.
The stag is by the numerous chase subdued,
And straight his hunters are as hard pursued.

1 Small are the seeds Fate does unheeded sow Of slight beginnings to important ends;

Whilst wonder, which does best our reverence show To Heaven, all reason's sight in gazing spends.

2 For from a day's brief pleasure did proceed,
A day grown black in Lombard histories,
Such lasting griefs as thou shalt weep to read,
Though even thine own sad love had drained thine

eyes.

3 In a fair forest, near Verona's plain,

Fresh as if Nature's youth chose there a shade,
The Duke, with many lovers in his train,
Loyal and young, a solemn hunting made.

4 Much was his train enlarged by their resort
Who much his grandsire loved, and hither came

To celebrate this day with annual sport,

On which by battle here he earned his fame,

5 And many of these noble hunters bore

Command amongst the youth at Bergamo; Whose fathers gathered here the wreaths they wore, When in this forest they interred the foe.

6 Count Hurgonil, a youth of high descent,

Was listed here, and in the story great;

He followed honour, when towards death it went; Fierce in a charge, but temperate in retreat.

7 His wondrous beauty, which the world approved, He blushing hid, and now no more would own (Since he the Duke's unequalled sister loved) Than an old wreath when newly overthrown.

8 And she, Orna the shy! did seem in life

So bashful too, to have her beauty shown,
As I may doubt her shade with Fame at strife,
That in these vicious times would make it known.

9 Not less in public voice was Arnold here;

He that on Tuscan tombs his trophies raised;
And now Love's power so willingly did bear,
That even his arbitrary reign he praised.

10 Laura, the Duke's fair niece, enthralled his heart, Who was in court the public morning glass, Where those, who would reduce nature to art,

Practised by dress the conquests of the face.

11 And here was Hugo, whom Duke Gondibert
For stout and steadfast kindness did approve;
Of stature small, but was all over heart,
And, though unhappy, all that heart was love.

12 In gentle sonnets he for Laura pined,

Soft as the murmurs of a weeping spring,
Which ruthless she did as those murmurs mind:
So, ere their death, sick swans unheeded sing.

13 Yet, whilst she Arnold favoured, he so grieved, As loyal subjects quietly bemoan

Their yoke, but raise no war to be relieved,

Nor through the envied fav'rite wound the throne.

14 Young Goltho next these rivals we may name, Whose manhood dawned early as summer light; As sure and soon did his fair day proclaim,

And was no less the joy of public sight.

15 If love's just power he did not early see,

Some small excuse we may his error give;
Since few, though learn'd, know yet blest love to be
That secret vital heat by which we live:

16 But such it is; and though we may be thought To have in childhood life, ere love we know, Yet life is useless till by reason taught,

And love and reason up together grow.

17 Nor more the old show they outlive their love, If, when their love 's decayed, some signs they give Of life, because we see them pained and move,

Than snakes, long cut, by torment show they live.

18 If we call living, life, when love is gone,

We then to souls, God's coin, vain reverence pay; Since reason, which is love, and his best known

And current image, age has worn away.

19 And I, that love and reason thus unite, May, if I old philosophers control, Confirm the new by some new poet's light,

Who, finding love, thinks he has found the soul.

20 From Goltho, to whom love yet tasteless seemed,
We to ripe Tybalt are by order led;
Tybalt, who love and valour both esteemed,

And he alike from either's wounds had bled.

21 Public his valour was, but not his love,

One filled the world, the other he contained;
Yet quietly alike in both did move,

Of that ne'er boasted, nor of this complained.

22 With these, whose special names verse shall preserve, Many to this recorded hunting came;

Whose worth authentic mention did deserve,
But from Time's deluge few are saved by Fame.

23 Now like a giant lover rose the sun

From the ocean queen, fine in his fires and great; Seemed all the morn for show, for strength at noon,

As if last night she had not quenched his heat.

24 And the sun's servants, who his rising wait,
His pensioners, for so all lovers are,
And all maintained by him at a high rate
With daily fire, now for the chase prepare.

25 All were, like hunters, clad in cheerful green,
Young Nature's livery, and each at strife
Who most adorned in favours should be seen,
Wrought kindly by the lady of his life.

26 These martial favours on their waists they wear, On which, for now they conquest celebrate,

In an embroidered history appear

Like life, the vanquished in their fears and fate.

27 And on these belts, wrought with their ladies' care, Hung cimeters of Akon's trusty steel; Goodly to see, and he who durst compare

Those ladies' eyes, might soon their temper feel.

28 Cheered as the woods, where new-waked choirs they meet,

Are all; and now dispose their choice relays
Of horse and hounds, each like each other fleet;
Which best, when with themselves compared, we
praise.

29 To them old forest spies, the harbourers,

With haste approach, wet as still weeping night,
Or deer that mourn their growth of head with tears,
When the defenceless weight does hinder flight.

30 And dogs, such whose cold secrecy was meant
By Nature for surprise, on these attend;
Wise, temperate lime-hounds that proclaim no scent,
Nor harb'ring will their mouths in boasting spend.

31 Yet vainlier far than traitors boast their prize,
On which their vehemence vast rates does lay,
Since in that worth their treason's credit lies,
These harb'rers praise that which they now betray.
32 Boast they have lodged a stag, that all the race
Outruns of Croton horse, or Rhegian hounds;
A stag made long since royal in the chase,
If kings can honour give by giving wounds.

33 For Aribert had pierced him at a bay,

Yet 'scaped he by the vigour of his head;
And many a summer since has won the day,
And often left his Rhegian followers dead.