No More Learning

" and thus unable to withstand
The wrong, with tears and sighs withdrew the band,

LV
Saying, "How woe-begone will be her sire,
When he the miserable case shall hear!
What grief will be the bridegroom's! what his ire!
How dread the vengeance of that cavalier!
When so the lady's needs such help require.
Alas! and why is not the champion near,
To save the illustrious blood of Stordilane,
Ere the thief bears her farther hence, from stain? "

LVI
The Tartar, joying in the prize possest,
Which he by chance and valour won and wore;
To find the warrior of the sable vest
Seemed not to have the haste he had before,
And stopp'd and loitered, where he whilom prest;
And cast about and studied evermore
To find some fitting shelter; with desire,
In quiet to exhale such amorous fire.

LVII
Doralice he consoled this while, whose eyes
And cheek were wetted with the frequent tear,
And many matters feigned and flattering lies;
-- How, known by fame, he long had held her dear,
And how his country and glad realm, whose size
Shamed others, praised for grandeur far and near,
He quitted, not for sight of France or Spain;
But to behold that cheek of lovely grain.

LVIII
"If a man merits love by loving, I
Yours by my love deserve; if it is won
By birth, -- who boasts a genealogy
Like me, the puissant Agricano's son?
By riches, -- who with me in wealth can vie.
That in dominion yield to God alone?
By courage, -- I to-day (I ween) have proved
That I for courage merit to be loved. "

LIX
These words, and many others on his part,
Love frames and dictates to the Tartar knight,
Which sweetly tend to cheer the afflicted heart
Of the unhappy maid, disturbed with fright.
By these fear first was laid, and next the smart
Sheathed of that woe, which had nigh pierced her sprite;
And with more patience thence the maid began
To hear, and her new lover's reasons scan.
LX
Next much more affable, with courteous lore
Seasoning her answers to his suit, replies;
Nor looking at the king, sometimes forbore
To fix upon his face her pitying eyes.
The paynim thence, whom Love had smote before,
Not hopeful now, but certain, of his prize,
Deemed that the lovely damsel would not still,
As late, be found rebellious to his will.

LXI
Riding in her glad company a-field,
Which so rejoiced his soul, so satisfied;
And being near the time, when to their bield,
Warned by the chilly night, all creatures hied,
Seeing the sun now low and half concealed,
The warrior 'gan in greater hurry ride;
Until he heard reed-pipe and whistle sound,
And next saw farm and cabin smoking round.

LXII
Pastoral lodgings were the dwellings near,
Less formed for show, than for conveniency;
And the young damsel and the cavalier
The herdsman welcomed with such courtesy,
That both were pleasured by his kindly cheer.
For not alone dwells Hospitality
In court and city; but ofttimes we find
In loft and cottage men of gentle kind.

LXIII
What afterwards was done at close of day
Between the damsel and the Tartar lord,
I will not take upon myself to say;
So leave to each, at pleasure, to award.
But as they rose the following morn more gay,
It would appear they were of fair accord:
And on the swain who them such honour showed,
Her thanks at parting Doralice bestowed.

LXIV
Thence from one place to the other wandering, they
Find themselves by a river, as they go.
Which to the sea in silence winds its way,
And ill could be pronounced to stand or flow,
So clear and limpid, that the cheerful day,
With nought to intercept it, pierced below.
Upon its bank, beneath a cooling shade,
They found two warriors and a damsel laid.

LXV
Now lofty Fancy, which one course to run
Permits not, calls me hence in sudden wise;
And thither I return, where paynims stun
Fair France with hosile din and angry cries,
About the tent, wherein Troyano's son
They holy empire in his wrath defies,
And boastful Rodomont, with vengeful doom,
Gives Paris to the flames, and levels Rome.

LXVI
Tidings had reached the Moorish sovereign's ear
That the English had already passed the sea;
And he bade Garbo's aged king appear,
Marsilius, and his heads of chivalry:
Who all advised the monarch to prepare
For the assault of Paris. They may be
Assured they in the storm will never thrive,
Unless 'tis made before the aids arrive.

LXVII
Innumerable ladders for the scale
Had been collected upon every hand,
And plank and beam, and hurdle's twisted mail,
For different uses, at the king's command;
And bridge and boat; and, what might more avail
Than all the rest, a first and second band
For the assault (so bids the monarch) form;
Who will himself go forth with them that storm.

LXVIII
The emperor, on the vigil of the day
Of battle, within Paris, everywhere,
By priest and friar of orders black and gray,
And white, bade celebrate mass-rite and prayer;
And those who had confessed, a fair array,
And from the Stygian demons rescued were,
Communicated in such fashions, all,
As if they were the ensuing day to fall.

LXIX
At the high church, he, girt with paladine
And preachers of the word, and barons brave,
With much devotion at those acts divine
Assisted, and a fair example gave;
And there with folded hands and face supine,
Exclaimed, "O Lord!