Chapter 3

590 Now when despair had settled on her mind, What way to meet the death that she design'd Fill'd all her thoughts. Her sister she addrest While treach'rous smiles beguil'd her soul distrest. «Rejoice, my friend, while I the means impart, 595 To gain his love or drive him from my heart: A place there is where Æthiopia ends, And into ocean's lap the sun descends; Where Atlas on his spreading shoulders bears, And turns the shining glory of the spheres. 600 Thence comes a priestess, in Massyla rear'd, Who for the watchful Dragon food prepar'd; Th' Hesperian temple 'twas her charge to keep, The drowsy flow'rs in liquid honey steep, And watch the golden branches on the tree. 605 She, at her will, the lab'ring mind can free, With mystic verse,--or deadly cares enforce, Repell the stars--arrest the rivers course; Raise the dead shade, the trembling mountain rend, And make the wood with horrid sound descend. 610 By heav'n and thee, thou nearest to my heart, Against my will I fly to magic art. But in the inmost court, in open air, A lofty pile thou, dearest friend, prepare, There let his arms, my nuptial couch that grac'd, 615 There ev'ry thing he faithless left be plac'd; And fast that bed--sad witness of my fall; The priestess orders to destroy them all. Of the sad deed be left no conscious trace--» She ceas'd and smil'd,--but death was in her face. 620 Anna obey'd; prepar'd the pyre; her mind Conceiv'd no fear of all the Queen design'd, Nor with such deep despair, her spirit fraught, Nor worse than when Sicheus fell she thought. In open air, but in a court inclos'd, 625 Rich pine and cloven oak the pyre compos'd; The Queen herself the lofty sides around, With flow'rs of death, funereal fillets bound; Then o'er the pyre, upon the nuptial bed, His sword, his portrait, all he left, she spread; 630 Her spirit labour'd with the dread design; All round were altars rais'd for rites divine. There stands the priestess with dishevell'd hair; (Her voice like thunder shakes the trembling air) Thrice on the hundred gods aloud she calls, 635 Deep night and chaos, thrice her Voice appalls; The triple form that Virgin Dian wears, Infernal Hecate's threefold nature hears. For stygian waters that surround the dead, Enchanted juice, a baleful vapour shed. 640 Black drops of venom--potent herbs she steep'd, With brazen scythes, by trembling Moonlight reap'd. And from the filly's infant forehead shorn A powerful philter from the mother torn. The Queen her sacred off'ring in her hands, 645 With one foot bar'd, before the altar stands; Her zone unbound releas'd her flowing vest; The conscious gods her dying words attest, The start that bear our fate, and if above A pow'r remains, that pities injur'd love.

650 'Twas night when o'er the earth in soft repose, All that exist, the load of life depose; When woods are hush'd, and murmuring billows done, When stars descending half their course have run; In silence all--The beasts, the feather'd brood, 655 That swim the lake, or haunt the thicket wood, All thro' the silent night, in balmy sleep Their hearts reliev'd in sweet oblivion steep. Not wretched Dido--night descends in vain Her eyes unclos'd, and unrepriev'd her pain; 660 Rest flies her soul, and sleep her couch forsakes; Care through the livelong night incessant wakes; Now love, now rage, in midnight silence nurst, Back on her soal with doubted fury burst. From wave to wave of boiling passion borne, 665 «What now remains, she cries--despis'd, forlorn, Must Dido now, poor suppliant wretch, implore, And court the husband she disdain'd before; Or must I on their fleet submissive wait; And from those Dardan lords expect my fate? 670 Oh! yes!--by former favours I may guess What gratitude they'll feel in my distress. But if--which way! what means?--What pow'r have I? How will their pride my humble suit deny? Oh senseless being! have I yet to know, 675 How far, that perjur'd, Trojan race can go? And then--alone attend their joyful crew, Or with my Tyrian force their fleet pursue? Yes,--and the men I scarce from home could tear, 680 Will they for me again the ocean dare. No--meet the death you merit.--Let the sword-- 'Tis all that's left, this sad relief afford. Oh, sister, to my tears so weakly kind, You nurst this fatal error in my mind, } You wrought my fate, you gave me to my foe; 685 } As Nature free, unshar'd my days might flow, } No guilty joy, no faithless partner know, No pangs like these I bear,--and not to you, Dear injur'd shade, Sicheus not untrue». Long as the gloomy shades o'erhung the pole, 690 Such cares revolving prey'd upon her soul.

Meanwhile Æneas in his fleet repos'd, His doubts remov'd, and all for flight dispos'd. To him the form divine he'd seen before, Appear'd in sleep--again his mandate bore; 695 The graceful limbs of youth, the flaxen hair, The voice, the rosy hue, Jove's son declare. «O goddess born! can sleep weigh down your eyes, Clos'd to the dangers which around you vise? Senseless!--the zephyrs waste their fav'ring breath, 700 While brooding in a soul resolv'd on death Some black design, matures, some treach'rous blow, Haste then and fly, while yet you've pow'r to go. You'll see, if here you wait the morning ray, The port block'd up, the shore to flames a prey. 705 Woman's a thing so variable and light! Haste then away. He spoke and mix'd with night.

Æneas trembling as the phantom flew, Started from sleep, and rous'd the slumb'ring crew. «Rise, rise, companions, each one to his oar; 710 Hoist ev'ry sail--a god sent down once more, Impels our flight--Be quick--stand out to sea, The cables cut. Great God, whoe'er you be Thy words again exulting we obey. Be present, rule our stars--direct our way 715 Propitious». He spoke, his whirling falchion drew, The halser cut, the bark impatient flew, All felt the impulse--dashing thro' the tide They quit the shore, their barks the ocean hide; The boiling wave their oars alternate sweep, 720 They bend, they pull, they cut the sounding deep.

Now rising from Tithonius golden bed Fresh beams of rosy light Aurora shed; And as the scatter'd shades were pierc'd with grey, The Queen from high beheld them under way, 725 Their swelling sail the fav'ring breezes bent, The shore, the port, a lonely space present. Oh then her lovely bosom in despair She beat. Oh then she tore her flaxen hair. «He's gone--Almighty heav'n, he's gone! she cries, 730 That wand'ring exile all my pow'r defies. Arm, arm, my warriors--sally from the town; Pursue the wretches--haul my gallies down; Bring flaming brands, with sails with oars pursue. --What have I said, alas! what would I do? 735 Where am I--and my mind what phrenzy leads! Now Dido, now, you feel your impious deeds. Then was the time, your sceptre when you shar'd. O thou for faith, for piety rever'd! This, this is he whose pious shoulders bore 740 His gods, his father, from the Trojan shore! Why did I not those limbs to pieces tear, Behold the waves, the bloody fragments bear, Cut off his friends and sever'd with the sword, Serve up Ascanius at his father's board! 745 His fortune might prevail--and so it might! What has despair to fear--in Fortune's spite I'd fire the fleet, the town, the son, the sire, The race extinguish, and with joy expire. «O Sun, whose beams all earthy deeds reveal, 750 Juno who know and witness what I feel, Hecate whose howl the midnight hour affrights, Gods of my parting soul--avenging sprites, Accept my vow, my pray'r expiring hear; The ills I bear are worthy of your ear».

755 «If so the fates decree, if Jove command, That, he accurst, shall reach th' Italian land, There may he meet in arms, a warlike race, There helpless rove, torn from his son's embrace, His friends untimely end there let him feel; 760 For succour there to strangers meanly kneel; And when for peace, ingloriously he sues, His crown, his life, untimely may he lose, And lie unburied on the naked shore; 765 With the last breath of life this pray'r I pour. And you, my Tyrian friends--thro' times extent On that curst race eternal hatred vent. These gifts, these honors, let my ashes reap, No peace, no treaty with that people keep. 770 Rise, rise some vast avenger from my tomb, With fire with sword that Dardan breed consume. Now and as long as Fate the pow'r shall lend, May shore with shore--may wave with wave contend, So prays my soul--let arms with arms engage, And children's children war eternal wage.

775 So Dido pray'd, while her distracted thought To shun light's hated beams, impatient sought. To Barce then, her husband's nurse, she said, (Her own at Tyre, within the tomb was laid). Go, Barce, go my sister hither bring 780 With water sprinkled from the sacred spring; Bid her the victims lead, the rites prepare, And you yourself a sacred fillet wear: The rite began to Stygian Jove we'll end, My cares shall vanish as the flames ascend, 785 His image wasting as the pyre consumes»; She spoke--the step of age officious haste assumes.

But now the ripen'd project chill'd her soul; Thro' starting blood her eyeballs burning roll; Her cheek convuls'd with spots of livid red, 790 All pale and ghastly, Death approaching spread. Strait to the court with darting stop she bends, With frantic haste the funeral pyle ascends, And from the scabbard draws the Dardan blade. (Sad gift, alas, for no such purpose made), 795 But when the bed, and Trojan vest she view'd; That well known bed--she paus'd--and pensive stood. Tears found their way--once more that bed she prest As these last words her parting breath exprest. «Dear pledges! yes!--while heaven allow'd it so? 800 Now take this soul---relieve me from this woe; I've liv'd, whatever fortune gave is o'er; No common shade I seek the dreary shore, My walls arise, I leave a glorious state; --Not unreveng'd I view'd my husband's fate; 805 Alas, too happy--had the envious gales, To Lybia's coast, ne'er bent the Phrygian sails». She ceas'd--and kiss'd again the fatal bed: «--And must I die--and none avenge me dead? Yes, yes! I die, since fate will have it so, Thus, even thus, well pleas'd beneath the shades I go; 810 These rising flames his cruel eye shall meet, A dreadful omen to attend his fleet»!

With this they saw her falling on the sword; Her blood along the reeking weapon pour'd, 815 Ran trickling down her hands.--Now horrid cries Through all the palace all the town arise-- Fame blows the deed--loud shouts from heav'n rebound, And groans and yells and female shrieks resound, As loud and shrill as if to foes a prey, 820 Carthage or ancient Tyre abandon'd lay, And thro' the temples and abodes of man, Fierce flames with undistinguish'd fury ran. Her sister hears the tumult of despair, She starts--she tears her breast, she reads her hair, 825 And wildly bursting thro' the gathering crowd, Calls on her dying sister's name aloud: Dido--Dear sister--how am I betray'd! For this, these flames--this pyre, these shrines I made. Oh what complaints for me forlorn suffice! 850 Could you, resolv'd to die, your friend despise, Was I unworthy deem'd to share your end? One pang our souls should free, one fate attend. I call'd our gods--my hands these rites prepar'd; You go without me, and our fate unshar'd? 835 Oh, sister! this sad deed has ruin'd all; With you, your state, your friends, your sister fall. --But pour the stream--I'll wash the blood away, And if some ling'ring breath of life delay, These lips shall catch it.--On the pyre she prest 840 Her sister, just expiring, to her breast; She wip'd the blood--and Dido heard her cries, And strove to raise in rain her languid eyes, They clos'd again,--and babbling in the wound The frothy blood hiss'd forth a horrid sound. 845 Thrice on her hand she lean'd to raise her head, And thrice sank down unable on her bed; Her eyes half fix'd, she open'd to the day, And groan'd that stil they felt the vivid ray. Till Juno who beheld her ling'ring death, 850 The painful agony of parting breath, Sent Iris down in pity from the sky, To free her soul, and loose the stubborn tye. For since unclaim'd by Fate, before her day, She fell to love forlorn a guiltless prey, 855 } To cut the tress, the queen of night delay'd, } The flaxen hair that on her forehead stray'd, } Nor yet consign'd her to the Stygian shade.

Then Iris, going from the sunbeam drew A thousand colours, varying as she flew; 860 Her dewy wing in liquid azure spread, Dropt down the sky, and hov'ring o'er her head «Pluto, this fated lock I bear to thee, And from this body set the spirit free», She said--Her fingers cut the flaxen hair, 865 The heat dissolv'd--the soul exhal'd in air.

* * * * *

THE HENRIAD.

CANTO IX.

ARGUMENT.

Description of the Palace of Love.--Discord implores his aid to bend the unconquerable courage of Henry IV.--Description of Gabrielle d'Etree. Henry, passionately enamoured with her; quits his army, and loses the advantages of his victory at Ivry. Mornay seeks him in his retreat, tears him from the arms of his mistress, and restores him to his army.

WHERE fam'd Idalia's happy plains extend, As Europe's bounds begin and Asia's end, Stands an old palace, long by time rever'd; The first rude plan the hand of nature rear'd; 5 But soon, disdaining Nature's simple taste, Intruding art the modest fabric grac'd.

There vernal breezes fann'd the myrtle shade, Soft odour breath'd, and beams unclouded play'd. No tyrant winter e'er despoil'd the grove, 10 Bid feather'd warblers end the note of love, Or bound the murm'ring rill in icy chains. Eternal verdure crown'd the blissful plains; No labour Earth requir'd, no season knew, Unbid by man her smiling harvest grew; 15 Round mellow fruit, the timid blossom twin'd, Gay Flora's bloom to rich Pomona join'd.

Not wanton Nature when her reign began, Such blessings lavish'd on her fav'rite man; The thoughtless joy which from abundance flows, 20 Days without care, and nights of calm repose: All to delude the mind, to charm the sense, All Eden e'er could boast,--but innocence.

Sweet music wafted on the balmy breeze, Invited languor and voluptuous ease, 25 While am'rous lays in dulcet note proclaim The lovers triumph, and the fair one's shame. There to the laughing god in flow'rs array'd, The graceful throng their daily homage paid; There in his temple learn'd the fatal art, 30 To please, seduce, and captivate the heart. Young Hope, in flatt'ring smiles for ever gay, To Love's mysterious altar leads the way: The graces round, half veil'd and half in sight, Enticing motion with their voice unite; 35 While Indolence, luxurious laid along, Listless and loit'ring, hears the tender song. There, silent Myst'ry, with the veil she wears, And eyes conversing with the soul, appears, Attentive tender cares, attracting smiles, 40 Gay sport and mirth, and all that thought beguiles. Lascivious pleasures group'd with wanton ease; And soft desires that more than pleasure please.

Such the delightful entrance of the dome: But onward if with guardless step you roam, 45 And thro' the deep recess audacious pry, What alter'd scenes of horror strike your eye! No pleasures form'd in playful groupes invite, No dulcet sounds the ravish'd ear delight; 50 No tender cares:--- But in their place appear, Sullen Complaint, and cloy'd Disgust, and Fear; There, fever'd Jealousy with livid hue, And falt'ring steps unwinds Suspicion's clew; Arm'd with the blood-stain'd instruments of death, There, Rage and Hatred spread their poison'd breath; 55 While Malice, brooding over secret guile, Repays their labour with a treach'rous smile; Remorse, that never sleeps, brings up the rear, Hates his own deed, and drops a barren tear. There, Love, capricious child, had chose to reign, 60 And pains and pleasures were his motely train; Cruel and kind by turns, but ever blind, The dear delight, the torment of mankind, Thro' ev'ry camp, thro' ev'ry senate glides, Commands the warrior, o'er the judge presides; 65 Still welcome to the heart, he still deceives, Pants in each bosom, thro' all nature lives.

High on a throne of endless conquest vain, Love bids the monarch drag his servile chain; And glorying less to please, than to destroy, 70 In scenes of woe exults with savage joy.

Him, Discord sought, by Rage relentless led, The timid pleasures knew the fiend and fled; Her eyes were fire, fresh blood her forehead dy'd, Around she whirl'd her flaming torch, and cry'd: 75 «Why sleeps my brother o'er the poison'd dart? His pow'r forgetting o'er the human heart? Did ever Love the flames of Discord waft, Or Discord's venom tinge Love's deadly shaft? Did I for Love, bid madd'ning worlds engage? 80 Rise then--avenge my insult, serve my rage; Behold a conqu'ring king my pow'r defy! Crush'd by his hand, behold my serpents die! See dove-ey'd Mercy smiling by his side, Thro' fields of civil rage his faithful guide; 85 See to his standard ev'ry heart return, While I my falling empire vainly mourn: Let him, with her, obtain one conquest more, Paris is his, and Discord's reign is o'er: Her smiles will gild the triumph which he gains, 90 Then what is left for me but hopeless chains! But Love shall wind this torrent from its course, And soil his glories in their limpid sourse; Spite of the virtues which adorn his mind, In am'rous chains that haughty spirit bind. 95 Can you forget what heroes once you charm'd, Whom at her feet fair Omphale disarm'd? Whose purple sail before Augustus flew, Who lost the world for Egypt's queen and you? To these proud trophies Henry's name unite, 100 Beneath your myrtle all his laurels blight: You serve yourself, when you my throne maintain, For Lore and Discord must together reign». So spoke the monster, and the vault around Trembling, threw back on Earth the deadly sound.

105 Love heard, and answ'ring with a doubtful smile, Where half was sweetness, half insidious guile, His golden quiver o'er his shoulder threw, And gliding soft thro' yielding azure flew. Pleasure, the graces, and unthinking sport, 110 Born by the Zephyr, were his wanton court.

Pois'd on his even wing, he look'd with joy On Simois, and the plain where once was Troy; A smile the triumph of his heart betray'd, To view the mighty ruin Love had made. 115 On Venice, long were bent his partial eyes, Thro' the blue main where gilded domes arise: Old Neptune saw them pierce the curling wave, Own'd the audacious conquest,--and forgave. To fam'd Sicilia next his flight he bends, 120 Stoops on the purple pinion, and descends Where he himself inspir'd the Mantuan swain, And taught Theocritus his tender strain; There, Fame reports, by ways unknown, he led The am'rous stream to Arethusa's bed. 125 Then on the downy sail he sought Vaucluse, Retreat of Petrarch's love and Petrarch's muse; Fond Echo yet remember's Laura's name; And what she gave in love repays in fame. Eure's winding shores his fond attention draw, 130 Where Love's own work, Anet's proud dome he saw; The fretted ceiling, Henry's cypher grac'd, By Love himself with fair Diana's plac'd. The graces dropt a crystal tear, and threw Around her urn fresh roses as they flew.

135 His wing at length on Ivry's plain he clos'd, Where Bourbon's thunder for a lime repos'd; But while the native of the wood he chas'd, The manly sport war's dreadful image trac'd. Love spread his chains, and sharp'ning ev'ry dart, 140 Inhuman pleasure bounded in his heart.

«Arise ye winds,» he cried, «the storm prepare, Collect the pregnant clouds, and dim the air; The hanging torrent from their bosom pour, Bid forked lightening fly, and thunders roar». 145 Too soon the blust'ring slaves his will obey'd Their dusky pinions spread a moving shade; } O'er the bright scene, dark low'ring mist they drove, } The languid beam with night usurping strove, } Pale Nature wept the change and knew the work of Love.

150 Benighted and alone, the king pursu'd A light that glimmer'd thro' the distant wood: Love whirl'd his torch, and cast the treach'rous ray, Like earth-born vapours glitt'ring to betray: Which lead the trav'ller to the fatal brink, 155 Then leave him to his wretched doom and link.

Fate so decreed it--in this lonely spot, Retreat and calm, a noble fair one sought; Far from the tumult of contending arms, A solitary castle hid her charms, 160 Her tender form from all mankind conceal'd, While war detain'd her father in the field. But while his sov'reign's toil the vet'ren shar'd, His lovely child the fost'ring graces rear'd. D'Etree (that name the favour'd mortal bore), 165 Of ev'ry, charm exhausted Nature's store. Not on Eurota's bank, so beauteous shone The faithless partner of the Spartan throne; Not she who conquer'd, whom the world obey'd, On Cydnus when in pomp of charms array'd, 170 Mortals deceiv'd, in awful rapture gaz'd, And incense to the present goddess blaz'd. Scarce had she gain'd the charming dang'rous years, A pow'r too sure, when rising passion bears. Pure as heav'ns image in the crystal deep, 175 Ere clouds arise, when wanton zephyrs sleep, Her breast for love and gen'rous feeling form'd, No sigh had heav'd, no tender passion warm'd.

In vain the treasures of the budding rose, From am'rous gales their modest folds enclose; 180 As vernal suns each timid charm display, They yield, and blushing, own the genial ray.