Dryden's Palamon and Arcite Part 8

Within those oratories might you see Rich carvings, portraitures, and imagery; Where every figure to the life expressed The G.o.dhead's power to whom it was addressed.

In Venus' temple on the sides were seen The broken slumbers of enamoured men; Prayers that even spoke, and pity seemed to call, And issuing sighs that smoked along the wall; Complaints and hot desires, the lover's h.e.l.l, And scalding tears that wore a channel where they fell; And all around were nuptial bonds, the ties Of love's a.s.surance, and a train of lies, That, made in l.u.s.t, conclude in perjuries; Beauty, and Youth, and Wealth, and Luxury, And sprightly Hope and short-enduring Joy, And Sorceries, to raise the infernal powers, And Sigils framed in planetary hours; Expense, and After-thought, and idle Care, And Doubts of motley hue, and dark Despair; Suspicions and fantastical Surmise, And Jealousy suffused, with jaundice in her eyes, Discolouring all she viewed, in tawny dressed, Down-looked, and with a cuckow on her fist.

Opposed to her, on the other side advance The costly feast, the carol, and the dance, Minstrels and music, poetry and play, And b.a.l.l.s by night, and turnaments by day.

All these were painted on the wall, and more; With acts and monuments of times before; And others added by prophetic doom, And lovers yet unborn, and loves to come: For there the Idalian mount, and Citheron, The court of Venus, was in colours drawn; Before the palace gate, in careless dress And loose array, sat portress Idleness; There by the fount Narcissus pined alone; There Samson was; with wiser Solomon, And all the mighty names by love undone.

Medea's charms were there; Circean feasts, With bowls that turned enamoured youths to beasts.

Here might be seen, that beauty, wealth, and wit, And prowess to the power of love submit; The spreading snare for all mankind is laid, And lovers all betray, and are betrayed.

The G.o.ddess' self some n.o.ble hand had wrought; Smiling she seemed, and full of pleasing thought; From ocean as she first began to rise, And smoothed the ruffled seas, and cleared the skies, She trod the brine, all bare below the breast, And the green waves but ill-concealed the rest: A lute she held; and on her head was seen A wreath of roses red and myrtles green; Her turtles fanned the buxom air above; And by his mother stood an infant Love, With wings unfledged; his eyes were banded o'er, His hands a bow, his back, a quiver bore, Supplied with arrows bright and keen, a deadly store.

But in the dome of mighty Mars the red With different figures all the sides were spread; This temple, less in form, with equal grace, Was imitative of the first in Thrace; For that cold region was the loved abode And sovereign mansion of the warrior G.o.d.

The landscape was a forest wide and bare, Where neither beast nor human kind repair, The fowl that scent afar the borders fly, And shun the bitter blast, and wheel about the sky.

A cake of scurf lies baking on the ground, And p.r.i.c.kly stubs, instead of trees, are found; Or woods with knots and knares deformed and old, Headless the most, and hideous to behold; A rattling tempest through the branches went, That stripped them bare, and one sole way they bent.

Heaven froze above severe, the clouds congeal, And through the crystal vault appeared the standing hail.

Such was the face without: a mountain stood Threatening from high, and overlooked the wood: Beneath the lowering brow, and on a bent, The temple stood of Mars armipotent; The frame of burnished steel, that cast a glare From far, and seemed to thaw the freezing air.

A straight long entry to the temple led, Blind with high walls, and horror over head; Thence issued such a blast, and hollow roar, As threatened from the hinge to heave the door; In through that door a northern light there shone; 'Twas all it had, for windows there were none.

The gate was adamant; eternal frame, Which, hewed by Mars himself, from Indian quarries came, The labour of a G.o.d; and all along Tough iron plates were clenched to make it strong.

A tun about was every pillar there; A polished mirror shone not half so clear.

There saw I how the secret felon wrought, And treason labouring in the traitor's thought, And midwife Time the ripened plot to murder brought.

There the red Anger dared the pallid Fear; Next stood Hypocrisy, with holy leer, Soft, smiling, and demurely looking down, But hid the dagger underneath the gown; The a.s.sa.s.sinating wife, the household fiend; And far the blackest there, the traitor-friend.

On the other side there stood Destruction bare, Unpunished Rapine, and a waste of war; Contest with sharpened knives in cloisters drawn, And all with blood bespread the holy lawn.

Loud menaces were heard, and foul disgrace, And bawling infamy, in language base; Till sense was lost in sound, and silence fled the place.

The slayer of himself yet saw I there, The gore congealed was clotted in his hair; With eyes half closed and gaping mouth he lay, And grim as when he breathed his sullen soul away.

In midst of all the dome, Misfortune sate, And gloomy Discontent, and fell Debate, And Madness laughing in his ireful mood; And armed Complaint on theft; and cries of blood.

There was the murdered corps, in covert laid, And violent death in thousand shapes displayed: The city to the soldier's rage resigned; Successless wars, and poverty behind: Ships burnt in fight, or forced on rocky sh.o.r.es, And the rash hunter strangled by the boars: The new-born babe by nurses overlaid; And the cook caught within the raging fire he made.

All ills of Mars' his nature, flame and steel; The gasping charioteer beneath the wheel Of his own car; the ruined house that falls And intercepts her lord betwixt the walls: The whole division that to Mars pertains, All trades of death that deal in steel for gains Were there: the butcher, armourer, and smith, Who forges sharpened fauchions, or the scythe.

The scarlet conquest on a tower was placed, With shouts and soldiers' acclamations graced: A pointed sword hung threatening o'er his head, Sustained but by a slender twine of thread.

There saw I Mars his ides, the Capitol, The seer in vain foretelling Caesar's fall; The last Triumvirs, and the wars they move, And Antony, who lost the world for love.

These, and a thousand more, the fane adorn; Their fates were painted ere the men were born, All copied from the heavens, and ruling force Of the red star, in his revolving course.

The form of Mars high on a chariot stood, All sheathed in arms, and gruffly looked the G.o.d; Two geomantic figures were displayed Above his head, a warrior and a maid, One when direct, and one when retrograde.

Tired with deformities of death, I haste To the third temple of Diana chaste.

A sylvan scene with various greens was drawn, Shades on the sides, and on the midst a lawn; The silver Cynthia, with her nymphs around, Pursued the flying deer, the woods with horns resound: Calisto there stood manifest of shame, And, turned a bear, the northern star became: Her son was next, and, by peculiar grace, In the cold circle held the second place; The stag Actson in the stream had spied The naked huntress, and for seeing died; His hounds, unknowing of his change, pursue The chase, and their mistaken master slew.

Peneian Daphne too, was there to see, Apollo's love before, and now his tree.

The adjoining fane the a.s.sembled Greeks expressed, And hunting of the Calydonian beast.

OEnides' valour, and his envied prize; The fatal power of Atalanta's eyes; Diana's vengeance on the victor shown, The murderess mother, and consuming son; The Volscian queen extended on the plain, The treason punished, and the traitor slain.

The rest were various huntings, well designed, And savage beasts destroyed, of every kind.

The graceful G.o.ddess was arrayed in green; About her feet were little beagles seen, That watched with upward eyes the motions of their Queen.

Her legs were buskined, and the left before, In act to shoot; a silver bow she bore, And at her back a painted quiver wore.

She trod a wexing moon, that soon would wane, And, drinking borrowed light, be filled again; With downcast eyes, as seeming to survey The dark dominions, her alternate sway.

Before her stood a woman in her throes, And called Lucina's aid, her burden to disclose.

All these the painter drew with such command, That Nature s.n.a.t.c.hed the pencil from his hand, Ashamed and angry that his art could feign, And mend the tortures of a mother's pain.

Theseus beheld the fanes of every G.o.d, And thought his mighty cost was well bestowed.

So princes now their poets should regard; But few can write, and fewer can reward.

The theatre thus raised, the lists enclosed, And all with vast magnificence disposed, We leave the monarch pleased, and haste to bring The knights to combat, and their arms to sing.

BOOK III.

The day approached when Fortune should decide The important enterprise, and give the bride; For now the rivals round the world had sought, And each his number, well appointed, brought.

The nations far and near contend in choice, And send the flower of war by public voice; That after or before were never known Such chiefs, as each an army seemed alone: Beside the champions, all of high degree, Who knighthood loved, and deeds of chivalry, Thronged to the lists, and envied to behold The names of others, not their own, enrolled.

Nor seems it strange; for every n.o.ble knight Who loves the fair, and is endued with might, In such a quarrel would be proud to fight.

There breathes not scarce a man on British ground (An isle for love and arms of old renowned) But would have sold his life to purchase fame, To Palamon or Arcite sent his name; And had the land selected of the best, Half had come hence, and let the world provide the rest.

A hundred knights with Palamon there came, Approved in fight, and men of mighty name; Their arms were several, as their nations were, But furnished all alike with sword and spear.

Some wore coat armour, imitating scale, And next their skins were stubborn shirts of mail; Some wore a breastplate and a light juppon, Their horses clothed with rich caparison; Some for defence would leathern bucklers use Of folded hides, and others shields of Pruce.

One hung a pole-axe at his saddle-bow, And one a heavy mace to stun the foe; One for his legs and knees provided well, With jambeux armed, and double plates of steel; This on his helmet wore a lady's glove, And that a sleeve embroidered by his love.

With Palamon above the rest in place, Lycurgus came, the surly king of Thrace; Black was his beard, and manly was his face The b.a.l.l.s of his broad eyes rolled in his head, And glared betwixt a yellow and a red; He looked a lion with a gloomy stare, And o'er his eyebrows hung his matted hair; Big-boned and large of limbs, with sinews strong, Broad-shouldered, and his arms were round and long.

Four milk-white bulls (the Thracian use of old) Were yoked to draw his car of burnished gold.

Upright he stood, and bore aloft his shield, Conspicuous from afar, and overlooked the field.

His surcoat was a bear-skin on his back; His hair hung long behind, and glossy raven-black.

His ample forehead bore a coronet, With sparkling diamonds and with rubies set.

Ten brace, and more, of greyhounds, snowy fair, And tall as stags, ran loose, and coursed around his chair, A match for pards in flight, in grappling for the bear; With golden muzzles all their mouths were bound, And collars of the same their necks surround.

Thus through the fields Lycurgus took his way; His hundred knights attend in pomp and proud array.

To match this monarch, with strong Arcite came Emetrius, king of Inde, a mighty name, On a bay courser, goodly to behold, The trappings of his horse embossed with barbarous gold.

Not Mars bestrode a steed with greater grace; His surcoat o'er his arms was cloth of Thrace, Adorned with pearls, all orient, round, and great; His saddle was of gold, with emeralds set; His shoulders large a mantle did attire, With rubies thick, and sparkling as the fire; His amber-coloured locks in ringlets run, With graceful negligence, and shone against the sun.

His nose was aquiline, his eyes were blue, Ruddy his lips, and fresh and fair his hue; Some sprinkled freckles on his face were seen, Whose dusk set off the whiteness of the skin.

His awful presence did the crowd surprise, Nor durst the rash spectator meet his eyes; Eyes that confessed him born for kingly sway, So fierce, they flashed intolerable day.

His age in nature's youthful prime appeared, And just began to bloom his yellow beard.

Whene'er he spoke, his voice was heard around, Loud as a trumpet, with a silver sound; A laurel wreathed his temples, fresh, and green, And myrtle sprigs, the marks of love, were mixed between.

Upon his fist he bore, for his delight, An eagle well reclaimed, and lily white.

His hundred knights attend him to the war, All armed for battle; save their heads were bare.

Words and devices blazed on every shield, And pleasing was the terror of the field.

For kings, and dukes, and barons you might see, Like sparkling stars, though different in degree, All for the increase of arms, and love of chivalry.

Before the king tame leopards led the way, And troops of lions innocently play.

So Bacchus through the conquered Indies rode, And beasts in gambols frisked before their honest G.o.d.

In this array the war of either side Through Athens pa.s.sed with military pride.

At prime, they entered on the Sunday morn; Rich tapestry spread the streets, and flowers the posts adorn.

The town was all a jubilee of feasts; So Theseus willed in honour of his guests; Himself with open arms the kings embraced, Then all the rest in their degrees were graced.

No harbinger was needful for the night, For every house was proud to lodge a knight.

I pa.s.s the royal treat, nor must relate The gifts bestowed, nor how the champions sate; Who first, who last, or how the knights addressed Their vows, or who was fairest at the feast; Whose voice, whose graceful dance did most surprise, Soft amorous sighs, and silent love of eyes.

The rivals call my Muse another way, To sing their vigils for the ensuing day.

'Twas ebbing darkness, past the noon of night: And Phosphor, on the confines of the light, Promised the sun; ere day began to spring, The tuneful lark already stretched her wing, And flickering on her nest, made short essays to sing.

When wakeful Palamon, preventing day, Took to the royal lists his early way, To Venus at her fane, in her own house, to pray.

There, falling on his knees before her shrine, He thus implored with prayers her power divine: "Creator Venus, genial power of love, The bliss of men below, and G.o.ds above!

Beneath the sliding sun thou runst thy race, Dost fairest shine, and best become thy place.

For thee the winds their eastern blasts forbear, Thy month reveals the spring, and opens all the year.

Thee, G.o.ddess, thee the storms of winter fly; Earth smiles with flowers renewing, laughs the sky, And birds to lays of love their tuneful notes apply.

For thee the lion loathes the taste of blood, And roaring hunts his female through the wood; For thee the bulls rebellow through the groves, And tempt the stream, and snuff their absent loves.

'Tis thine, whate'er is pleasant, good, or fair; All nature is thy province, life thy care; Thou madest the world, and dost the world repair.