No More Learning

" --
Round and about him suddenly they close;
These draw the faulchion, and those others lay
The spear in rest: a multitude he slew,
Before his lance was broke upon the crew.

XLV
When this he saw was broke, the truncheon sound
And yet entire, he took, both hands between,
And with so many bodies strewed the ground,
That direr havoc never yet was seen:
And as with that jaw bone, by hazard found,
The Hebrew Samson slew the Philistine,
Crushed helm and shield; and often side by side,
Slain by the truncheon, horse and rider died.

XLVI
In running to their death the wretches vie,
Nor cease because their comrades perish near:
Yet bitterer in such a mode to die,
Than death itself, does to the troop appear.
They grudge to forfeit precious life, and lie
Crushed by the fragment of a broken spear;
And think foul scorn beneath the pounding stake
Strangely to die the death of frog or snake.

XLVII
But after they at their expense had read
That it was ill to die in any way,
And near two thirds were now already dead,
The rest began to fly in disarray.
As if with what was his the vanquished fled,
The cruel paynim, cheated of his prey,
Ill bore that any, from the murderous strife
Of that scared rabble, should escape with life.

XLVIII
As in the well-dried fen or stubble-land,
Short time the stalk endures, or stridulous reed,
Against the flames, which careful rustic's hand
Scatters when Boreas blows the fires to feed;
What time they take, and by the north-wind fanned.
Crackle and snap, and through the furrow speed;
No otherwise, with little profit, those
King Mandricardo's kindled wrath oppose.

XLIX
When afterwards he marks the entrance free,
Left ill-secured, and without sentinel.
He, following prints (which had been recently
Marked on the mead), proceeds, amid the swell
Of loud laments, Granada's dame to see,
If she as beauteous were as what they tell.
He wound his way 'mid corpses, where the wave,
Winding from side to side, a passage gave:

L
And in the middle of the mead surveyed
Doralice (such the gentle lady's name),
Who, at the root of an old ash tree laid,
Bemoaned her: fast her lamentations came.
And tears, like plenteous vein of water, strayed
Into the beauteous bosom of the dame;
Who, (so it from her lovely face appeared,)
For others mourned, while for herself she feared.

LI
Her fear increased when she approaching spied
Him foul with blood, and marked his felon cheer;
And piercing shrieks the very sky divide
Raised by herself and followers, in their fear.
For over and above the troop who guide
The fair infanta, squire and cavalier,
Came ancient men and matrons in her train,
And maids, the fairest of Granada's reign.

LII
When that fair face by him of Tartary
Is seen, which has no paragon in Spain,
Where amid tears (in laughter what were she?
)
Is twisted Love's inextricable chain.
He knows not if in heaven or earth he be;
Nor from his victory reaps other gain,
Than yielding up himself a thrall to her,
(He knows not why) who was his prisoner.

LIII
Yet not so far his courtesy he strained,
That he would lose his labour's fruit, although
The royal damsel showed, who sorely plained,
Such grief as women in despair can show.
He, who the hope within him entertained
To turn to sovereign joy her present woe,
Would wholly bear her off; whom having placed
On a white jennet, he his way retraced.

LIV
He dames, maids, ancient men, and others, who
Had from Granada with the damsel fared,
Kindly dismissed, their journey to pursue;
Saying, "My care suffices; I of guard,
Of guide, of handmaid will the office do,
To serve her in her every need prepared.
Farewell! " 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?