The Poetical Works of Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, Bart. M.P Part 46

Apollo.

17.--Page 251, stanza cvii.

_Those forms of dark yet l.u.s.trous loveliness._

Whatever the original cradle of the mysterious Etrurians, scholars, with one or two ill.u.s.trious exceptions, are pretty well agreed that it must have been _somewhere_ in the East; and the more familiar we become with the remains of their art, the stronger appears the evidence of their early and intimate connection with the Egyptians, though in themselves a race decidedly not Egyptian. See MICALI, _Stor. deg. Antich. Pop._ But in referring to this delightful and learned writer, to whom I am under many obligations in this part of my poem, I must own, with such frankness as respect for so great an authority will permit, that I think many of his a.s.sumptions are to be taken with great qualification and reserve.

[B] Dryden, with an accurate delicacy of erudition for which one might scarcely give him credit, does not in his translation follow Virgil's quant.i.ty, _Porsenna_, but makes the word short, _Porsena_.

BOOK IV.

ARGUMENT.

Invocation to Love--Arthur, aegle, and the Augur--Dialogue between the Cymrian and the Etrurian--Meanwhile Lancelot gains the sea-sh.o.r.e, where he meets with the Aleman priest and his sons, and hears tidings of Arthur--He tells them the tale of his own infancy--Crosses the sea-- Lands on the coast of Brettannie--And is guided by the crystal ring in quest of Arthur towards the Alps--He finds the King's charger, which Arthur had left without the vaulted pa.s.sage into the Happy Valley--But the rock-gate being closed, he cannot discover the King; and, winding by the foot of the Alps round the valley, gains a lake and a convent--The story now returns to Arthur and aegle--Descriptive stanzas--A raven brings Arthur news from Merlin--The King resolves to quit the valley--He seeks and finds the Augur--Dialogue--Parting scene with aegle--Arthur follows the Augur towards the fane of the funereal G.o.d.

Hail, thou, the ever young, albeit of Night 1 And of primaeval Chaos eldest born; Thou, at whose birth broke forth the Founts of Light, And o'er Creation flush'd the earliest Morn!

Life, in thy life, suffused the conscious whole; And formless matter took the harmonious soul.

Hail, Love! the death-defier! age to age 2 Linking, with flowers, in the still heart of man!

Dream to the bard, and marvel to the sage, Glory and mystery since the world began.

Like the new moon, whose disk of silver sheen But halves the circle Heaven completes unseen.

Ghostlike amidst the unfamiliar Past, 3 Dim shadows flit along the streams of Time; Vainly our learning trifles with the vast Unknown of ages!--Like the wizard's rhyme We call the dead, and from the Tartarus 'Tis but the dead that rise to answer us!

Voiceless and wan, we question them in vain; 4 They leave unsolved earth's mighty yesterday.

But wave thy wand--they bloom, they breathe again!

The link is found!--as _we_ love, so loved _they_!

Warm to our clasp our human brothers start, All centuries blend when heart speaks out to heart.

Arch Power, of every power most dread, most sweet, 5 Ope at thy touch the far celestial gates; Yet Terror flies with Joy before thy feet, And, with the Graces, glide unseen the Fates.

Eos and Hesperus; one, with twofold light, Bringer of day, and herald of the night.

But, lo! again, where rise upon the gaze 6 The Tuscan Virgin in the Alpine bower, The steel-clad wanderer, in his rapt amaze, Led through the flowerets to that living flower: Eye meeting eye, as in that blest survey Two hearts, unspeaking, breathe themselves away!

Calm on the twain reposed the Augur's eye, 7 A marble stillness on his solemn face; Like some cold image of Necessity When fated hands lay garlands on its base.

And slanted sunbeams, through the blossoms stealing, Lit circled Childhood round the Virgin kneeling.

Slow from charm'd wonder woke at last the King, 8 Well the mild grace became the lordly mien, As, gently pa.s.sing through the kneeling ring, The warrior knelt with Childhood to the queen; And on the hand, that thrill'd in his to be, Press'd the pure kiss of courteous chivalry;

In the bold music of his mountain tongue, 9 Speaking the homage of his frank delight.

Is there one common language to the young That, with each word more troubled and more bright, Stirr'd the quick blush--as when the south wind heaves Into sweet storm the hush of rosy leaves?

But now the listening Augur to the side 10 Of Arthur moves; and, signing silently, The handmaid children from the chamber glide, And aegle followeth slow, with drooping eye.-- Then on the King the soothsayer gazed and spoke, And Arthur started as the accents broke;--

For those dim sounds his mother-tongue express, 11 But in some dialect of remotest age; Like that in which the far SARONIDES[1]

Exchanged dark riddles with the Samian sage.[2]

Ghostlike the sounds; a founder of his race Seem'd in that voice the haunter of the place.

"Guest," said the priest, with labour'd words and slow, 12 "If, as thy language, though corrupt, betrays Thou art of those great tribes our records show As the crown'd wanderers of untrodden ways Whose eldest G.o.d, from pole to pole enshrined, Gives Greece her KRONOS and her BOUDH to Ind;

"Who, from their Syrian parent-stem, spread forth 13 Their giant roots to every farthest sh.o.r.e, Sires of young nations in the stormy North, And slumberous East; but most renown'd of yore In purple Tyre;--if, of PHOENICIAN race, In truth thou art,--thrice welcome to the place!

"Know us as sons of that old friendly soil 14 Whose ports, perchance, yet glitter with the prows Of Punic ships, when resting from their toil In LUNA'S[3] gulf, the seabeat crews carouse.

Unless in sooth (and here he sigh'd) the day Caere foretold hath come to RASENA!"[4]

"Grave sir," quoth Arthur, piteously perplext, 15 "Or much--forgive me, hath my hearing err'd, Or of that People quoted in thy text, (Perish'd long since)--but dimly have I heard: Phoenicians! True, that name is found within Our scrolls;--they came to MEL YNYS for tin!

"As for my race, our later bards declare 16 It springs from Brut, the famous Knight of Troy; But if Sir Hector spoke in Welsh, I ne'er Could clearly learn--meanwhile, I hear with joy, My native language (pardon the remark) Much as Noah spoke it when he left the ark.

"More would my pleasure be increased to know 17 That that fair lady has your own precision In the dear music which, so long ago, We _taught_--observe, not _learn'd_ from--the Phoenician."

"Speak as your fathers spoke the maiden can, O many-vowell'd, ear-afflicting man!"

The priest replied. "But, ere I yet disclose 18 The bliss that Northia[5] singles for your lot, Fain would I learn what change the G.o.ds impose On the old races and their sceptres?--what The latest news from RASENA?"--"With shame I own, grave sir, I never heard that name!"

The Augur stood aghast!--"O, ruthless Fates! 19 Who then rules Italy?"--"The Ostrogoth."

"The Os----- the what?"--"Except the Papal states; Unless the Goth, indeed, has ravish'd both The Caesar's throne and the apostle's chair-- Spite of the Knight of Thrace,--Sir Belisair."[6]

"What else the warrior nations of the earth?" 20 Groan'd the stunn'd Augur.--"Reverend sir, the Huns, Franks, Vandals, Lombards,--all have warlike worth; Nor least, I trust, old Cymri's Druid sons!"

"O, Northia, Northia! and the East?"--"In peace, Under the Christian Emperor of Greece;

"Whose arms of late have scourged the Paynim race, 21 And worsted Satan!"--"Satan, who is he?"

Greatly the knight was shock'd in that fair place, To find such ignorance of the powers that be: So then, from Eve and Serpent he began; And sketch'd the history of the Foe of Man.

"Ah," said the Augur,--"here, I comprehend 22 aegypt, and Typhon, and the serpent creed![7]

So, o'er the East the G.o.ds of Greece extend, And Isis totters?"--"Truly, and indeed,"

Sigh'd Arthur, scandalized--"I see, with pain, You have much to learn my monks could best explain--

"Nathless for this, and all you seek to know 23 Which I, no clerk, though Christian, can relate, Occasion meet my sojourn may bestow;-- Now, wherefore, pray you, through yon granite gate Have you, with signs of some distress endured, And succour sought, my wandering steps allured?"

"Pardon, but first, soul-startling stranger," said 24 The slow-recovering Augur--"say if fair The region seems to which those steps were led?

And next, the maid to whom you knelt compare With those you leave. Are hers, in sober truth, The charms that fix the roving heart of youth?"

"Lovelier than all on earth mine eyes have seen 25 Smiles the gay marvel of this gentle realm; Of all earth's beauty that fair maid the queen; And, might I place her glove upon my helm, I would proclaim that truth with lance and shield, In tilt and tourney, sole against a field!"

"Since that be so (though what such custom means 26 I rather guess than fully comprehend) Answer again;--if right my reason gleans From dismal harvests, and discerns the end To which the beautiful and wise have come, Hard are the fates beyond our Alpine home:

"What makes, without, the chief pursuit of life?" 27 "War," said the Cymrian, with a mournful sigh: "The fierce provoke, the free resist, the strife, The daring perish and the dastard fly; Amidst a storm we s.n.a.t.c.h our troubled breath, And life is one grim battle-field of death."

"Then here, O stranger, find at last repose! 28 Here, never smites the thunder-blast of war: Here, all unknown the very name of foes; Here, but with yielding earth men's contests are; Our trophies--flower and olive, corn and wine:-- Accept a sceptre, be this kingdom thine!

"Our queen, the virgin who hath charm'd thine eyes-- 29 Our laws her spouse, in whom the G.o.ds shall send, Decree; the G.o.ds have sent thee;--what the skies Allot, receive:--Here, shall thy wanderings end, Here thy woes cease, and life's voluptuous day Glide, like yon river through our flowers, away."

"Kind sir," said Arthur, gratefully--"such lot 30 Indeed were fair beyond what dreams display; But earth has duties which"----"Relate them not!"

Exclaim'd the Augur--"or at least delay, Till better known the kingdom and the bride, Then youth, and sense, and nature, shall decide."