No More Learning

Next, overrun by him the kingdom see,
And his strong arms against the city turned,
Wherein the Syren's body lies inurned.

LVII
"Lo! the imperial squadrons thither steer,
Aid to the leaguered city to convey;
And lo! burnt, sunk, destroyed, they disappear,
Encountered by the Doria in mid-way.
Behold! how Fortune light does shift and veer,
So friendly to the Frenchman till this day!
Who slays their host with fever, not with lance;
Nor of a thousand one returns to France.

LVIII
These histories and more the pictures shew,
(For to tell all would ask too long a strain)
In beauteous colours and of different hue;
Since such that hall, it these could well contain.
The painting twice and thrice those guests review,
Nor how to leave them knows the lingering train,
'Twould seem; perusing oft what they behold
Inscribed below the beauteous work in gold.

LIX
When with these pictures they their sight had fed,
And talked long while -- these ladies and the rest --
They to their chambers by that Lord were led,
Wont much to worship every worthy guest.
Already all were sleeping, when her bed
At last Duke Aymon's beauteous daughter prest.
She here, she there, her restless body throws,
Now right, now left, but vainly seeks repose:

LX
Yet slumber toward dawn, and in a dream
The form of her Rogero seems to view.
The vision cries: "Why vex yourself, and deem
Things real which are hollow and untrue?
Backwards shall sooner flow the mountainstream
Than I to other turn my thought from you.
When you I love not, then unloved by me
This heart, these apples of mine eyes, will be.
LXI
"Hither have I repaired (it seemed he said)
To be baptized and do as I professed.
If I have lingered, I have been delaid,
By other wound than that of Love opprest. "
With that he vanished from the martial maid,
And with the vision broken was her rest.
New floods of tears the awakened damsel shed,
And to herself in this sad fashion said:

LXII
"What pleased was but a dream; alas! a sheer
Reality is this my waking bane;
My joy a dream and prompt to disappear,
No dream my cruel and tormenting pain.
Ah! wherefore what I seemed to see and hear,
Cannot I, waking, see and hear again?
What ails ye, wretched eyes, that closed ye show
Unreal good, and open but on woe?

LXIII
"Sweet sleep with promised peace my soul did buoy,
But I to bitter warfare wake anew;
Sweet sleep but brought with it fallacious joy,
But -- sure and bitter -- waking ills ensue.
If falsehood so delight and truth annoy,
Never more may I see or hear what's true!
If sleeping brings me weal, and watching woe,
The pains of waking may I never know!

LXIV
"Blest animals that sleep through half the year,
Nor ope your heavy eyelids, night nor day!
For if such tedious sleep like death appear,
Such watching is like life, I will not say,
Since -- such my lot, beyond all wont, severe --
I death in watching, life in sleep assay.
But oh! if death such sleep resemble, Death,
Even now I pray three stop my fleeting breath! "

LXV
The clouds were gone, the horizon overspread
With glowing crimson by the new-born sun,
And in these signs, unlike the past, was read
A better promise of the day begun:
When Bradamant upstarted from her bed,
And armed her for the journey to be done,
Her thanks first rendered to the courteous lord,
For his kind of cheer and hospitable board.