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ARTELOISE.
A ROMANCE OF KING ARTHUR AND KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND TABLE
by
J. DUNBAR HYLTON, M.D., LL.D.
CONTENTS:
PART FIRST.
ARGUMENT.
THE ORIGIN OF THE TALE.
Arthur, King of England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland. A Partial List of the Knights of the Round Table. Their Usefulness. The Feast at Camelot. The Tournament; Beau De Main is by King Arthur Declared Victor; is Crowned with a Wreath by Clotilda. A Description of that Maid. Her Birth and Education. An Old Man Enters at the Feast with a Sword. Hands the same to the King. All Endeavor to Draw it from the Sheath, and all Fail to do so except Beau De Main, who Draws it Easily. A Description of the Sword. A Description of Arthur's Halls. The Old Man and Beau De Main go on a Quest. They Reach the Cave of a Dragon. A Description of the Monster. The Knight's Prayer for Victory. He Slays the Monster. He Passes with his Guide Through a Secret Passage to the Towers of Arteloise. A Description of Those Bulwarks. His Conquest of the Place, which Ends the First Day.
PART SECOND.
ARGUMENT.
Time--Night. The Knight with his Guide seeks an Entrance to the Towers. They see Wizards Dancing round a Skull, within which Burns a Light. They give Battle to the Knight and are Overthrown. He Extinguishes their Light by the Dragon's Blood. The Towers Reel and Rock, and over all Instantly is Wrought a Change. The Hymn of the Captives. They are sought for and set at Liberty, but their Succor arrives too late. They Die of Exhaustion while Drinking from a Fountain of Water. The Towers and all their Halls are Explored. The Strange and Wonderful Scenes therein Found. The Prophet of the Shrine. His Anger at seeing the Deathless Jew. The Jew Confronts him with equal Scorn. After a Wordy War the Prophet strikes his Shield with his Sword, which sets up a Terrible Noise. Then the Prophet Mysteriously Disappears.
PART THIRD.
ARGUMENT.
A Continuation of the Description of the Scenes of Wonder found within the Towers of Arteloise. The Sculptured Walls, Floors and Ceiling Described. The Guide's Sudden Disappearance. The Knight enters the Forbidden Halls, where Dwell the Spirits of Fire. He Fights with them and they are Overthrown. Their Wonderful Book. He passes on to another Hall, and finds Clotilda and her Attendant Maidens lying on Couches in an Enchanted Sleep, brought about by the Artifice of Merlin. He Overthrows all the Temptations of Sin. The Halls Catch on Fire. His Prayer for Deliverance. The Place is suddenly filled with a Polar Atmosphere, which as suddenly becomes Heated, and Expands and Blows the Place to Atoms, leaving Clotilda and her Maidens Unharmed and still Asleep.
PART FOURTH.
ARGUMENT.
Griselda, the Daughter of King Pellinore, meets the Knight on his Passage to another Tower, wherein is Heard Melodious Music. Description of Griselda. She goes with the Knight to Slay a Dragon that has Guarded the Cyclops' Treasures for Two Thousand Years. They meet the Dragon at the Mouth of his Cavern. The Knight gives Battle to the Dragon, and while the Monster's Breast is Impaled on the boss of his Shield Griselda Pierces it to Death with Arrows from her Bow. At this Necromancy gives a Dying Groan. The Hills around Quake, and a General Change Overtakes the Appearance of the Valley. The Moon Rises. How all Nature Looks under the Brightness of her Beams. Both the Maiden and the Knight tell how they have Sought for the Holy Grail. Sweet Music issues from everything Around, and Lulls all Nature to Sweet Repose. Two Songs, coming from an Unknown Source, are Sung and are Paradox. Again all Space and Earth are Teeming with Music. The Heavens show Wonderful Signs, and a Bridge of Light Instantly Spans from the Sky to the Hill whereon stand the Knight and Maiden, and a Throng of Angels come Descending on the Bridge, Bearing to the Knight and Maiden the Holy Grail. It is Given to the Two, and after the Foremost Angel Pours a Blessing on the Maid and Knight they take their Departure over the bright Bridge of Light back to Heaven, which Ends the First Night.
PART FIFTH.
ARGUMENT.
The Second Day Arrives. The Sunrise. How the Earth and all Nature are Delighted at his Coming, and how everything Shines, Grows and Teems with Life under the Glory of his Beams. Griselda Carries the Holy Grail to where Clotilda and her Maidens still Lie in their Enchanted Sleep. She Wakens them. Clotilda tells how Merlin Wrought his Enchantment over them. Merlin's Sudden Appearance. A Description of him. His Wishes. His Prophecies. Two Great Battles to be Fought. He requests Beau De Main to go to the Polar Regions and bring away his Daughter, Ursula, who has there been Sleeping an Enchanted Sleep for over Six Hundred Years. Fate has Decreed that no one shall Waken her but Beau De Main. King Arthur and his Knights arrive at the Towers of Arteloise. The Deathless Jew leads them to the Dragon's Cave, from which they carry the Enormous Treasures of the Giants of Old and their Cyclops Allies. A Description of the Wonderful Amount of Treasure. Lions, Elephants and all manner of Beast are there found cast out of Solid Gold. The Knight, with the Deathless Jew, sets sail, which Ends the Second Day. As the Mortal-made Armor that he wears would be useless in Battle against the Polar Spirits he has to obtain Arms wrought by Vulcan. His Guide steers the Barge to the Straits of Hercules. They enter the Mediterranean Sea and sail to the Isle of Sicily, where they enter the Gorge that leads them to the Forges of Vulcan. A Description of the Place. Vulcan measures the Knight for a Suit of Armor. His Forges glow and his three Cyclops Smiths aid in building the Armor. It is completed and the Knight dons it. A General Description of Vulcan's Wonderful Workmanship, of the Shield and its artistic engraving. A Spear of Enormous Size and Strength is next forged. Then an Axe of Redundant Brightness. Then the Sword is forged by Vulcan and all three of his Cyclops Smiths. Vulcan places a Vast Wedge on an Anvil, and, with one terrific blow, cuts both Wedge and Anvil in two with the Sword, without the least injury to its keenness. The Knight with his Armor leaves Vulcan's Works, guided by the Jew. They sail to the Polar Seas. A General Description of the Whole Place. The Beasts there found Frozen in the Ice. What caused the Polar Mountains of Ice. An Open Sea found. How it Originated, and for what Purpose. The Knight meets the Might of the Polar Spirits. A Battle ensues, in which those Spirits are Overthrown. Ursula found and roused from her Sleep. Is brought away to Britain. A Description of the Places they pass, which Ends the Second Night.
PART SIXTH.
ARGUMENT.
The Birth, Life and Education of Ursula. Her Fondness for the Tourney, caused by the Teaching of her Sire, Merlin. Her Cruelty and Pride. The Knight carries her to the Halls of King Arthur, where the Extreme Beauty of her Charms creates Quite an Excitement amongst the Heroes of the Round Table, and even on the King. A Herald enters, bearing a Broken Cross, and tells of the Approach of the Invading Roman Fleet. Amidst the Darkness and Confusion that ensues Ursula and the Jew depart and Night sets in, which closes the Third Day. The King orders the Fires for Signals of Distress to be lit on the Hill-tops, to warn his Allies of his and their own Danger. Their glow lights up the Hills, and soon the answering Signals are seen. The Forges are all fired and the old armor repaired, and new ones made. A General Description of the Stir and Activity displayed amongst the Troops throughout the Night. King Arthur, armed and on horseback, departs from his Followers. His Adventures. His Prayer. The History of the Deathless Jew. His Mode of Setting Fire to the Roman Fleet. He suddenly Departs in Search of Beau de Main, and the King and Ursula are left alone on the Hill for the Night. Their Admiration for each other, which Ends the Third Night.
PART SEVENTH.
ARGUMENT.
Day Dawns. The Gathering of the Allies and Preparing for Battle. Their Appearance in Battle Array. The Names of some of King Arthur's Knights. A Description of the Roman Host. The Appearance of the Prophet of the Shrine. He Marshals his Host for Battle. The First Day's Battle. The Determination of either Host to Win. The Heroic Deeds of Arthur and Beau de Main. Ursula and the Deathless Jew with their Mirrors Fire the Roman Fleet. Its Destruction. Night closing in, puts an end to the First Day's Battle, which ends the Fourth Day. After Sentinels are placed to Watch the Enemy, the Britons take Rest and Refreshments. Arthur and Beau de Main Discover Clotila wounded on the Battle-Field amongst the Slain. How she became Wounded. Her Death. Their Sorrow over her Fate. They then both go to the Tent of King Pellinore. A Description of that King. Arthur and his Knights join in the Feast that is there Spread. Pellinore Sings a Love Tale. When the Song ends he finds Arthur and his Knights fast asleep. Day Dawns. Both Armies Drawn up in Battle Array. How they Looked. The Second Day's Battle. The Fierceness of the Conflict. A Knight sheathed in White Armor rides up to the Roman Line that walled in the Prophet from Harm. He breaks through it. Drives his Spear through the Prophet, and while he is in the act of Falling the Knight Cuts his Head off, and casts it up high in air to the view of all. The Desperate Struggle of Arthur, Beau de Main and Pellinore to save the life of the Knight in White Armor. He is killed by the Romans. The Earth Quakes, and Merlin arises amidst the Battle. His Magic Banner. It waves in Windless Air as in a Storm. A Description of the Banner. The Battle ends with the Total Destruction of the Roman Army. The Earth Quakes, and Merlin, wrapping his Banner around his child, departs mysteriously. A general silence ensues. All being Over-fatigued with the Toil of Day, Rest where they are, Night having closed in. Griselda, with the Holy Grail, meets Beau de Main. They exchange mutual Sentiments of Love. The Deathless Jew Approaches them, Joins their Hands, Blesses them and tells them that he is a Rabbi and that they are Wed, which closes the Story.
DEDICATION
TO MY SON.
Among the many races found
Within wide Nature's spacious bound
Breathes there a maiden or a youth,
Or aged dame, or man, forsooth,
Who does not lend a willing ear
Strange stories of the Past to hear?
Though they be wild and void of truth
As is a rock of love or ruth,
Be wild as ever Fiction drew,
Or in Romance's regions grew,
If in the tale were love and woe,
And pains and joys we mortals know,
And feel and love or hate and fear,
The story finds a willing ear.
The Arabian Nights shall please
Both old and young, on land or seas,
While ages on their flight proceed
As in the past, where man can read.
Though Homer's songs three thousand years
Have sounded on the human ears,
Three thousand years to come and more
His songs shall sound on every shore,
Wherever breathes a human soul
Whose feeling noble thoughts control.
He'll be the rich, exhaustless mine,
Where delighted sport the Sacred Nine.
When but a boy behind my plow
I sang his songs, and sing them now;
Nor shall he ever cease to charm
Me through all toil, and it disarm
Of weariness, and pain and care,
And all that doth make wear and tear
On human tissue, but keep me strong,
While toiling I shall sing his song.
Oft when a boy my teachers sought
On Euclid's page to bind my thought,
In problems there my mind involve
Archimedes might gladly solve.
Away from them I swiftly slid,
Within the woods all day I hid,
And read Shah Nameh or the Cid,
Or, foodless, there I dwelt all day,
Feasting on the Nibelungen Lay.
Tasso's or Virgil's songs I read,
Or tales of Dante filled my head;
Nor in those days I e'er forgot
The immortal poet, Walter Scott.
But all the bards of ancient time,
Or modern days, whate'er their rhyme,
Of Southern or of Northern clime,
Of lands throughout the East or West,
Old Ossian I then loved the best
He was my solace, my delight,
My joy by day, my dream by night.
The more I conned him o'er and o'er
The more he warmed my bosom's core.
His tales of love, and war, and woe,
Made all my soul with wonder glow.
Whole days and nights did Ossian's page
Enraptured all my soul engage.
Fingal's great deeds, in war and peace,
His triumphs, his glory's grand increase,
My boyish soul with daring fraught,
Till seemed beside that king I fought;
Seemed I rushed with Ossian o'er the field,
And met the battle on my bossy shield;
Stood by the tuneful warrior's side,
And wept with him when noble Oscar died.
No matter what or how we sing,
Or strike the lyre's sounding string,
If short or long, we make the line
When come in aid the tuneful Nine,
If we some noble feelings bring
Within the tales we tell or sing--
Something to move the joy or woe,
Or yearnings that we mortals know,
No matter if we limn the form
Of the grim spirit of the storm,
Place him on heights stupendous hurled,
Midst clouds above a moving world,
His meteor-banner there unfurled
To storms and lightnings round him twirled
Or place him on the ocean's wave,
To give the bounding bark its grave,
So that we fill the human soul
With wonder, pity, joy or dole;
Teach there's a path that should be trod
By mortals that leads up to God.
Where they shall view the final end--
One Judge, one God, one Father, Friend;
Or if we limn the rainbow's form
At eve, amidst the dying storm,
And paint the hills with sunset glow,
While floods his beams of glory show,
While skipping lambs and grazing sheep
All peaceful throng the glassy steep,
And shepherds watchful vigils keep;
Or paint with every rural charm
The pleasures on a Jersey farm,
Where every joy of mortal life
Around has Nature scattered rife;
Or lead the reader through a vale,
Flowers all sides the eye assail,
Into the fields of choicest fruits,
To pluck whate'er his fancy suits,
No matter what we tell or sing,
So strictly we to Nature cling--
Nature, man's mortal, final goal,
When God emancipates his soul;
Nature that unto dust shall bring
His form and every mortal thing,
And scatter on the tempest's pride
His dust o'er all her regions wide;
And who at last shall bow her head,
And, hoary, slumber with the dead--
That path be by her spirit trod
That brings us face to face with God.
Some mortals on this planet dwell
Who doubt all things that poets tell,
Believe no more that Arthur lived
Than mountains through a screen were sieved
Of meshes half an inch in size
Ere they did from earth's surface rise,
Though there were just as huge and vast
As now when they those meshes past.
They even doubt this spacious earth
From the Almighty had its birth,
That it alone through Chance was born,
And all the worlds that space adorn;
But who is Chance? Who did all this?
Who formed all Space's vast abyss?
How Chance did into being move
And make all things they cannot prove,
And when we all their theories view,
And search and sift them through and through,
We find their theories all unsound,
And they the only liars found.
That Arthur lived I well believe,
It a historic truth receive,
And see no more to doubt in him
Than fish do in the waters swim,
Or birds fly through the yielding air,
Or earth blooms with its flowers fair,
Or storms the waves of ocean roll
With force no mortal can control;
Or that the hills my hands can lift,
And them from off their bases shift.
Or I the sun could drag to earth,
And place him on my little hearth;
Or I could stop the Comet's car,
And load it with the Polar Star.
Yea, let the skeptics doubt the birth
Of good King Arthur on this earth,
Deny him all his fame and worth,
And prowess of unmeasured girth;
We'll war 'gainst them both day and night,
And we shall conquer in the fight.
My son, the winds are wild and shrill,
They drive the snow o'er glen and hill;
The night with all its clouds is stored,
And not a planet is abroad;
Deep darkness fills all sky and space,
And over all of Nature's face
No object through the night we trace.
But let the night be as it will,
And blasts scream over moor and hill,
Warm beside our blazing hearth,
We'll listen to the tempest's mirth;
Be just as happy and as gay
As winds that rough the forests sway.
Come, let's broach the ruddy wine,
Drink healths unto the Sacred Nine,
And to the Spirit of the Soil,
Who ever doth reward man's toil.
Hail to the Spirit of the Land,
Who gives us food on every hand,
Who fills the earth with germs of life,
And crowns it all with fruitage rife;
Who makes the vine on hill and field
Its purple, ample harvest yield,
From which we press the luscious wine,
Which fills the veins with glow divine--
Hail! hail to Ceres ever blest!
May every bliss her heart invest!
The goddess of the wholesome corn,
That doth with vigor man adorn,
That gives him muscle, brain and bone,
And spirit of a lofty tone;
Hail to the goddess, all divine,
And to her daughter, Proserpine,
Who crown the earth with corn and wine!
Who make the vine yield well and live
When man it proper care will give.
My song unto its end has run,
And now its dedication's done.
Come, bring the wine; 'tis Christmas Eve,
Maids round the altars flowers weave;
To-morrow brings the happy morn
The Saviour of this World was born.
ARTELOISE.
PART I.
I.
A story of our fathers
In the misty days of old,
Their deeds of daring and their tourneys,
Their battles fierce and bold;
Their high feasts and merry meetings,
Their love, their hate, their joys and woes,
And of their dread necromancers
This ancient story shall disclose.
And how in Etna's fiery caves,
Within the mighty Cyclops' den,
Were forged on thundering anvils,
Immortal arms for godlike men.
The shield no earthly spear could pierce,
The breakless, adamantine helm,
The sword and axe, that aye in fight
Would every enemy o'erwhelm.
The morion before whose sheen
The hardiest foemen quail,
By the light it threw, full well they knew
Immortal Vulcan forged the mail.
And how in rocky caves of hills,
Guarded safe by dragons bold,
Lie enormous hoarded treasures
Of glittering gems and gold.
And how a knight of fearless prowess,
With soul untouched by mortal sin,
As prophesied by Merlin's breath,
Did the countless treasure win.
Of gallant knights and ladies fair,
Whom grisly giants sought to wrong;
Of courts of kings and castles strange,
I yet shall tell you in this song.
II.
A king in ancient Britain reigned,
For high valor far renowned;
Before him no greater hero lived,
And since no greater can be found.
He ruled o'er all merry England,
Fair Scotland, Ireland, and Wales,
And many Islands of the deep
The far distant sea assails.
In peace and war was he renowned,
And good King Arthur was his name;
O'er Christendom where mortal lived
Was spread wide his deathless fame.
And many knights and chiefs had he,
Of mighty prowess and of worth,
Whose gallant deeds of hardihood
Ever shall be sung on earth;
Their many battles, fierce and bold,
With proud princes and with kings;
With monsters, dreadful to behold,
Dragons and infernal things,
Shall down the corridors of time,
Come on poet's deathless song,
And how they, aye, upbuoyed the right,
And bore ever down the wrong.
How day and night in armour bright,
They ever sought for perils new;
To crush the cruel, faithless, vile--
Aid the noble, good, and true.
III.
There was Lancelot de Lake,
With glittering sword and shield,
Who, aye, ready was for lady's sake
His conquering blade to wield.
And Sir Tristeam, the bold and strong,
The proud, fear-defying chief,
Who ever warr'd 'gainst others' wrong,
Soothed and lessened others' grief.
There was Gawaine, Kings Bore and Ban,
All desperate men in fray;
And Bedivere, who, in the van
Of glory, shone both night and day.
And there was Percivale, the famed,
With the helmet crushing mace;
And gallant Lionell, who claimed,
In field and foray, foremost place.
There was Galahad, the divine,
Loved of angels and the Lord;
Who hung upon religions' shrine,
All the trophies of his sword.
There was Aglovale, of giant limb,
There was Tor, and Pelinore;
All knights in peril, bold and grim,
And full a thousand heroes more
Who made renowned the Table Round;
For knights of prowess and of worth--
Whose fame through fleeting times hall go
'Till deeds heroic fade from earth.
True knights who by King Arthur's side,
Full, twelve times, in bloody fray,
Crushed down the Roman ranks of pride;
And overwhelmed them with dismay.
Save King Arthur, of all that Train,
For deeds of hardihood and worth
Was none like valiant Beau de Main
'Mongst all the heroes of the earth.
True knight was he to friend or foe,
In time of peace and battle grim;
A heart more true in weal or woe,
Ne'er sent blood through human limb.
He was the knight of prowess bold,
And of sin untainted soul;
Whom the voice of Merlin had foretold,
Should the power alone control
That should slay the dragon fierce and grim,
Within a cavern dark and drear;
And monsters of gigantic limb
That guarded hoarded treasures there.
And bring the hoard from out that den,
With spirit void of mortal fears--
Though it had hidden been from men,
Twice one thousand fleeting years.
IV.
A royal feast at Camelot,
Had the noble Arthur spread,
Nor was there a single knight forgot
Who did glory's pathway tread;
All knights renowned of the Table Round,
And kings were gathered there, I ween,
There many a comely knight was found
And many a courteous queen;
The morning fair midst tourney sports,
Had most blithely past away,
The din throughout King Arthur's courts
Had sprightly rung of mimic fray;
The ground where it had been all strown,
With wreck'd and splintered spears was seen,
And plumes of every color known
With these were spread o'er all the green.
Had storms of lightning and of hail,
Fiercely over woodlands past,
And countless branches strown the gale,
And broken on the earth had cast;
And there unnumbered flowers brought
Of all shape and size and hue;
And strewing them 'midst limbs had sought
To hide the grassy earth from view;
It had resembled much the ground
Where had past that mimic fray,
Where shivered spears were cast around,
And torn plumes unnumbered lay;
And that grand morning's tourney prize
The gallant Beau de Main had won,
He 'neath King Arthur's judging eyes
The knightliest deeds had done;
And never breathed a man on earth
More fitter than that gallant king,
To judge a hero's knightly worth,
And deed of skill in tourney ring.
A mighty helm of flashing steel,
With purest ruddy gold inlaid,
That o'er it waving plumes reveal
That day as prize the Monarch made.
And on the head of Beau de Main
Was placed that helm by Arthur's hand,
While joyous shouts from all his Train
Reechoed loud across the land;
The fairest of the maidens there
Forth stepped from out the female crowd,
With wreath as fair as queen could wear,
On knee to her the hero bowed;
Firm on his head the wreath was placed,
Where waved the towering plumes above;
Then spoke the maid, A wreath ne'er graced
Chief fitter maiden's faith, and love;
And I have crowned thee here, Sir Knight
Champion of the Chaste and fair,
May virtue be thy guiding light,
And woman's honor be thy care.
V.
All knights renowned of the Table Round
Have thronged unto the festive board,
Ceased is the clanging armor's sound,
And ringing clash of spear and sword,
With sparkling wave the cups are crowned,
For in them ruddy wine is poured;
And not a care-worn face is found
From humblest knight to proudest lord.
All is merry feasting, joy and mirth,
In every stir and sight and sound,
Nor happier scenes has witnessed earth
Since ever hero kings were crowned,
By knights where e'er the eye may go,
Are all beauteous maidens seen,
The best the whole wide world can show
In comeliness of face and mien.
Each gallant baron, king and knight,
Has his fair partner by his side,
For whose fair name and honor bright
He unto deed of death would ride.
The fair Gunever ever blest
With sweetest charms in beauty stored,
Sits with heart at ease and soul at rest,
Beside her loved and loving lord;
But those who'd know each beauteous guest
That sat around that spacious board,
Let them through Arthur's annals quest,
The tales will well their time reward!
Of her who sat by Beau de Main
It will be my duty here to tell:
Of all the maids 'neath Arthur's reign
She did in comeliness excell,
Her eyes were like the living light
Of meteors born of blue,
And from each orb, so starry bright,
A generous soul looked through
Her face like garden of the East
When summer blooms in all her prime,
Roses red and white the showers feast,
Do all commingling bloom sublime.
A nobler head and fairer brow
Was never seen with mortal maid,
Nor through all the ages until now
Were such wavy, golden locks surveyed;
As opening rose her mouth was sweet,
Never yet did rubier lip
The searching eye of nature greet,
Nor from a mortal goblet sip.
White as the foam the billows show,
Heaved 'neath gauzy silk her bosom fair.
As golden sushine cast on snow
O'er neck and shoulders stream'd her hair;
Her white round arms were like the down
That waves upon the autumn field,
That with snowy loveliness doth crown
The dark brown hulls that did it yield.
A form more perfect and more fair,
By nature crowned with nobler grace,
Ne'er trod the earth, nor breathed its air,
Nor did those of mortal mold embrace.
A foot more light, yet firm than hers,
Upon this world has never trod;
Not lighter summer's zephyr stirs
That bows no grass along the sod,
Her tread was like the fleecy snow
That touches on the river's face,
But ruffles not its tranquil flow,
Nor leaves behind the slightest trace;
Her voice was soft as wind that sighs
At summer through the sultry vale,
Sweet as perfumes that on it rise--
From violets, rose and lillies pale!
VI.
No wonder that the maid was fair,
And famed for beauty o'er the earth,
For from a bright immortal pair
'Twas said that maiden drew her birth.
A pair of angels, so the story runs,
Left their heavenly homes of yore,
To journey space and view the suns,
And countless planets to explore;
From world to world, from star to star,
The adventurous angels flew,
And where the comets blazed afar
All grand, but terrible to view;
And while amidst the realms of space,
Where worlds on worlds unnumbered glow'd
And over all creation's face
Their blazing lights eternal flowed.
Amidst the boundless realms afar,
A world they saw in glowing azure drest
That seem'd to them a gleaming star,
More beautiful than all the rest;
And down they shot on lightning wings
Beyond the utmost speed of thought,
Past planets form'd in glowing rings,
All with immortal beauty fraught;
And lighted here upon this sphere,
The lovely home of mortal man;
Enraptured stare the angel pair,
No world they'd seen of grander plan;
And here on earth their home they made,
Though all unseen of mortal men,
Save at noons when forests spread their shade,
And sunshine warm'd the hill and glen.
All those who saw the lovely pair,
Of them did wonderous marvels tell,
One was a maiden heavenly fair,
Her waving, golden tresses fell
O'er shoulders fair as froth on seas,
Face with all charms in rainbows seen;
Her airy step was like the breeze
That stirs not e'en the aspen green.
The other was a comely youth,
Of godlike, all commanding mien,
Whose visage seem'd the shrine of truth,
With every virtue glittering sheen;
The Genii he was styled by men
Of all the mountains and the hills,
And she was the Nymph of sunny glen,
And all the fountains and the rills;
One sole offspring, but of form divine,
Sprung from the union of this pair,
In her did all their virtues shine,
And all beauties of her mother fair:
They kept her in their secret glen
Throughout many an age of time.
And taught her all that mortals ken,
And all of angel lore sublime;
Then sent her forth as mortal maid,
To charm and gladden human kind;
In every glorious cause to aid,
And lead the race on paths refined.
Clotilda was this maiden named,
In Orkney she'd been born and bred,
And much through her those isles were famed,
Back in the misty ages fled.
The glories of King Arthur's court,
Had reached her in her secret glen,
And unto Camelot did she resort
To see this first of mortal men.
In quest of gallant knight came she,
Who could achieve adventures bold,
And for her pining captives free,
Grim giants kept in rocky hold.
But none like Beau de Main she found
In perilous deeds and knightly worth;
All knights renowned of the Table Round
He far out shone, and all on earth;
So he she singled for perils grim,
And dread, awe inspiring deed;
What recked he loss of life and limb,
Her faith and love his glorious meed;
If was death his lot, he lost her not,
His spirit would move at her side,
If he lived, then at high Camelot
Her King Arthur would give as bride.
VII.
Done is the feast, the mirth has ceased,
In King Arthur's glittering halls;
Where spear and sword and targes broad
Hang vast along the mighty walls,
Where axes bright and mace of might
The gazing coward's soul appalls;
And high o'er head the banner red,
O'er helms and gleaming armor falls,
In awful rows they there repose,
For not a sound to battle calls.
But loud the lay of love and fray
The skillful bards of Arthur sing;
Deep, full, strong, flows forth the song,
While chords of harps responding ring.
Of gallant knight and lady bright,
Of loves and hates and wars of old,
Of daring king in tourney ring,
Waving plume and helm of gold;
Of hydras dread with dragon's head,
By arm of mortal heros slain;
Of slighted oath and broken troth,
And dying friendship's throes and pain;
Hunts o'er brake, and moor for stag and boar,
And glories of the chase they sing,
And varied swell and songs as well
From bards and harps alternate ring.
VIII.
The festive day is waning fast,
Yet shines the sun in Arthur's halls,
Though eastward of those towers vast
Apace a lengthening shadow falls;
Yet, 'ere he goes his beams are cast
In living splendor on those walls,
On shield and lance the sunbeams glance,
And all like waving flame they blaze;
On greaves of steel the sunbeams reel,
And flash around their blinding rays.
On shield and lance the sunbeams glance,
On Morion, sword and helmet sheen,
On armor bright those beams alight,
And all resplendent glows the scene;
So long they glar'd on polished steel,
And so intense the sheen became,
It seems those halls within reveal
One waving flood of dazzling flame;
Then at the sight as if inspired
With brightness that around them fell.
Each bard and minstrel's soul seems fired
With something more than mortal spell.
And loud and louder still their song,
And strains of music roar and ring,
'Till like a storm it sweeps along
Through all the castles of the king;
And swifly turns where splendor burns
The eyes of every chief and knight,
Soul and mind all thought and feeling spurns,
Save steel gleaming to the sunbeams bright.
IX.
While gleam'd the shine of the day's decline,
In princely Arthur's royal halls,
And stirring chime of minstrel's rhyme
Reechoed loud within the walls;
Strode in the hall an aged man,
With locks as white as Denmark's snow,
Who bowed to the king and then began
To speak in accents soft and low;
King Arthur, o'er many a mile
Of earth my weary feet have trod,
O'er mountain high and deep defile,
O'er deserts drear and vernal sod,
To many a kingly court I've been,
And noble kings were they, I trow,
But never place like this I've seen,
Through all my journeys until now.
The knights renown'd of the Table Round
Are known throughout the spacious earth,
Their praise doth sound where men are found
Who honor give to fame and worth;
And hither here I've sped to see
If any hero I can find,
Whose soul's of every baseness free,
And has an unpolluted mind,
For such alone can draw this sword,
From out its diamond studded sheath,
And he who doth, shall be its lord,
Nor any peril fear yon sky beneath;
With that he placed in Arthur's hand
A long, massive glittering sword,
Than Excalibur, far more grand,
More terrible and long and broad.
X.
Long, long essayed the gallant king,
To draw from out its sheath that magic blade,
But it from sheath he could not bring,
Though he with all his might essayed;
Then all dismayed his chiefs surveyed
The ponderous, glittering brand
They knew 'twas vain for them to try
When failed had Arthur's stalwart hand.
They all essayed to draw that blade
They all essayed but Beau de Main,
In his hand was laid the starry blade
Nor was that hero's effort vain;
Forth at his touch the weapon came,
Loud rattling from its starry sheath,
The glittering falchion flashed like flame
From burning cloud on midnight heath;
Then high up on the Table Round
He the glittering falchion threw,
There it fell, with thundering sound,
While gems of lightning from it flew,
Abashed with surprise the heroes all
The wonderous deed behold,
And louder through King Arthur's hall
The swelling strains of music rolled.
XI.
Come, come with me, the old man spake,
And thou shalt rise to honors new;
Thou shalt yokes of banded tyrants break,
And glory's brightest path pursue.
Thou art the lord of magic sword,
And thou with it shall prowess do;
On battle field, 'twill cleave each shield,
And smite all mortal armor through.
Beneath its sheen and edges keen,
Those who never fled before shall fly;
And monsters grim in form and limb
That vex and curse the world shall die
So mount thy steed and with me speed
For ere yon sun our sight shall leave,
Thou shalt range through a castle strange,
And deeds of prowess high achieve.
XII.
Forth on their steeds the twain have gone,
From King Arthur's ancient halls,
Where yet the glowing sunbeams shone,
On glittering steel clad walls.
O'er moor and brake, by stream and lake,
The wild boar's reedy fen,
By hill and crag where roams the stag,
And wilds scarce known to men;
Ride on those twain, until they gain
A valley lone and drear,
Abrupt and grand on either hand,
The towering hills appear;
Each steep incline with fir and pine,
And oak and gum is crowned,
And o'er them the twine huge folds of vine,
That trail along the ground,
Though here and there the hills are bare,
No trees bedeck their side,
Yet there green moss with glowing gloss
Waves in its vernal pride.
O'er boulders steep huge torrents leap
Into the vale below,
O'er boulders brown those floods rush down,
With foam as white as snow.
In roaring mass they onward pass,
To a river deep and broad,
Those waters strong flow fierce along,
Too wild for steed to ford.
And midst its flow huge boulders show
At times their naked heads,
Some red as blood, some white as flood,
When froth its surface spreads.
And some are dark as is the bark
When charred by scorching flame,
Some somber brown that sternly frown,
O'er floods they can not tame;
That by them toil in fierce turmoil,
And o'er them dash their spray,
As if their pride all rocks defied,
That dared to bar their way;
And long that vale the lillies pale
Waved o'er those waters wide;
And roses set by violet
Bedeck the river's side;
And grasses green as ever seen
Wave o'er the teeming soil;
And incommode the narrow road
'Long which those horsemen toil,
And years have past, a number vast,
Since there has horseman trod;
All men feared well that haunted dell,
And shunn'd its fatal sod,
In rhymes of old strange tales are told
About that valley drear,
Of monsters dread that there are bred,
And fiends for men to fear;
Of dragons grim in form and limb,
That fly on wings of flame;
All O'er whose hide strange scales abide,
Hard as yet sword became;
And ne'er could feel the edge of steel,
All o'er its horrid frame;
And vain the force of man and horse
Its grisly rage to tame.
Ne'er mortal trod that fatal sod
By either night nor day,
But to its jaw and horrid maw
They instant found their way.
XIII.
But little reck'd our hero bold
For idle tales that minstrels told
'Bout either glen or hill or wold,
Of caverns dread or giants bold,
His spirit knew no more of fear
Than rock 'round which the surges tear;
His soul was set on perils grim,
And these alone delighted him;
With hand on rein and rowels red,
He followed where that old men led,
Little he knew and less he cared,
What perils should that day be dared;
His arm was strong, his sword was keen,
He longed to dye its glowing sheen
With blood of paynim tyrants grim,
Or giants of stupendous limb;
Such as by bards were said to dwell
Within that valley lone and fell.
XIV.
Onward he goes, at length he sees
Amidst a grove of giant trees,
Whose mighty limbs though spreading wide
With flame are darken'd, scorched and dried,
And 'midst them at the mountain's base,
A horrid cavern he could trace,
Where grisly dragons flame disgorge
Dread as yet stream'd from blazing forge;
There noxious flames terrific float,
Grim, pestilence and death denote;
Sulphurous fumes midst flame and smoke,
And chlorine, lungs and nostrils choke,
Yet in that cave of stifling breath,
Was silence dread as that of death;
Though from it flowed a mighty flood,
Of reeking liquid red as blood.
XV.
Then spoke the man of hoary head:
Through yonder cavern we must tread,
But thou the dangerous way must lead,
So ready make for daring deed:
Thy sword unsheath, onward spur thy steed
And I'll thy thirst for glory feed.
Roused at the voice, from out the cave
A fearful leap the dragon gave,
Forward it roaring comes amain,
Like mountain torrent swelled with rain;
Black broods the air above its head,
And serpents spring beneath its tread;
Its horrid jaws are opened wide,
Nor belching flames its fangs could hide;
Those were in awful rows revealed,
Though half in reeking gore concealed,
Which from its jaws dropped down like rain;
And from its neck a shaggy mane,
Black as was ever darkness found,
Hung down and trailed along the ground.
Broad was its head and vast its length,
And all stupendous seemed its strength;
And over all its sable hide
Were folds on folds of horny pride,
That sharpest steel of man defied
To pierce, or harm it to betide;
Two mighty wings it shook in air,
Stirred it as though a storm were there.
To gaze upon its mighty size,
Its lion's head and horrid eyes,
It seemed all vain for man to hope
In fray 'gainst such a beast to cope;
Too vast its force, too huge its length,
For mortal's steel or hero's strength.
XVI.
But thought not thus the gallant knight,
He longed to meet that beast in fight;
He eyed it with a stern delight,
But ere he drew his falchion bright
To heaven a secret prayer he made,
Invoked his Lord Jehovah's aid;
Prayed as all knights and heroes true
Are wont, when glory they pursue.
Great God of every sea and clime,
Who sits 'midst seraph hosts sublime,
Thine the earth and sun and starry zone,
That journey round Thy endless throne,
Thine is the fount of life and light,
As well as death's all whelming might;
Thou gracious Judge of right and wrong,
Who can make the hero weak or strong,
Thy gracious ear to me incline,
And hear my thoughts for they are Thine
Almighty and eternal Lord,
This day, with victory, crown my sword!
Strengthen my arm, make good my breath,
That I may stretch yon beast in death;
Let earth drink up its vital gore,
So it may curse mankind no more,
Let it beneath Thy servant fall,
So may it be, Thou Lord of all!
XVII.
Then swift, soon as the prayer he breathed,
He his glittering sword unsheathed,
And springing from his gallant horse
On foot he tries the dragon's force.
High o'er his head on ponderous wings
In air the horrid monster springs;
And as it strove with grisly claw
The gallant knight from earth to draw,
With one fell blow his sword he brings
On one of its tremendous wings,
Clean severed from its trunk it flew,
And prone on earth the monster threw.
From mouth that stream'd forth gore and flame
A dread, infernal roaring came;
On earth the wing descending fell,
With shock that shook the lonely dell,
While gore gushed from the monster's side,
And shooting far the forests dyed
Where o'er the trees on every limb.
Hung hissing folds of serpents grim.
XVIII.
Again the beast his head uprears,
For victory or death prepares;
Dread as the thunder cloud he came,
His throat a roaring fount of flame,
Swift as the lightning bolt it sped
A claw above the hero's head;
Another swoop of his trusty blade,
And on the earth that claw is laid;
Swift down it falls 'midst streaming gore,
To injure mortal man no more.
Then fiercer wax'd the monster's ire,
And dreader gushed the founts of fire;
Before those flames of sulphur dire
From conflict did the knight retire.
But through the path he sped, anon
The roaring terror thundered on,
Forward it sped where e'er he came,
O'er him casting forky, waving flame;
Yet sped the knight where purer air
Did soon his wasted strength repair;
Then high he reared his seven-fold shield,
Which shelter from the flame did yield;
And while on this he caught the flame,
Full on the roaring beast he came,
Between its eyes his reeking sword
Made horrid passage deep and broad;
Prone on the earth the terror came,
And ceased the roaring fount of flame,
Though fast and dread its serpent tail
Moved round the hero like a flail!
XIX.
Backward a space the hero drew,
Where he could well the monster view,
Then back he sped with vigor rife,
To end the grisly Terror's life;
One full sweep with his trusty blade,
And the snaky tail on earth is laid;
Three times his sword he drives in gore,
And with a hoarse and horrid roar,
Shaking the earth on which it lies,
The roaring Terror writhing dies.
While rivers huge of reeking gore
Adown the winding valley pour.
The horrid serpents vast and grim,
That hang from every tree and limb,
All palsied drop with stiffened fang,
And breathe on earth their dying pang.
Soon as the grisly Terror dies,
And lifeless all it smoking lies,
From gore the hero wipes his sword,
Gives thanks to Heaven's eternal Lord.
XX.
Up through that cavern dark and drear,
Where that grim Terror made its lair,
Upon their strong and mettled steeds,
That hero with his guide proceeds;
Through subterranean passage drear,
They go and mock at night and fear.
The way was rough and dark and dread
For either steed or man to tread;
Yet safely on their way they made
Till daylight on the darkness played;
And here a gate did they survey,
That blocked the passage of that way,
Huge bars of steel and beams of brass,
A gate, a strong and ponderous mass,
That gleamed all o'er like molten glass,
Completely blocked that gloomy pass.
Down from his steed the hero springs,
And 'gainst the gate his force he flings,
But vain 'gainst it his strength he brings,
It neither stirs nor shakes nor rings;
Solid as rock or mountain's side,
It stood and all his force defied;
Nor least bewildered and amazed,
Upon that gate the hero gazed;
But strove and strove with all his force,
To move that gate and clear his course.
XXI.
Then spake the man with hoary head:
The path we came again no man shall tread.
Behold, it all is closed with rock,
That ne'er shall move to earthquake's shock,
To flame, nor storm, nor hand of time,
Till nature's death-knell God shall chime.
Before us life and glory glow,
Behind are only death and woe,
To linger midst this stifling breath
Would shortly bring us ghastly death;
So then, most valiant knight and good,
Well proved in deeds of hardihood,
Once more 'gainst it thy valor try,
And clear the way or here we die;
Perhaps in this thy gleaming sword
May unto thee some aid afford."
XXII.
Behind the hero cast his eye,
And nought but rock could he descry;
The path that they had journeyed through
No longer met his searching view;
But rocks as hard as e'er were drilled
In solid mass that passage filled,
Nor left the faintest trace behind,
Where'd been that pass for him to find.
A moment, and but a moment's space,
He gazed on the enchanted place,
Then from his sheath his blade he drew,
While sparks of lightning from it flew,
Which far and wide spread flashing round,
And filled the place with light and sound.
Then swift on that barrier grim
It sped with all his force of limb,
The ponderous gate terrific rings,
And from its place like lightning springs,
And instant fades from mortal sight,
Like on the cloud the flash of light.
Then spoke a voice, a voice sublime,
That seemed to sound all o'er that clime:
Dreadful hour and fatal day,
All our power has past away;
All, all our spells and magic grand,
Are wrecked for aye by mortal hand,
Past away, as foretold of yore,
By Merlin's voice and Merlin's lore;
Dreadful day and fatal hour,
That ends on earth the wizard's power.
XXIII.
Ceased the voice, but ere died its sound
Like rolling waves the earth stirred round,
'Till rocks from out their places rose,
And writhed with all terrific throes;
The lofty hills were rent in twain
A moment's space, then joined again,
While over all a sable cloud
Closed grim and dread with thunders loud,
Though not a lightning flash nor flame
From out that shroud of thunder came;
Dread and more dread the thunder rolled,
And darker grew that awful fold,
Beneath those peals of thunder loud
To earth their heads the forests bowed,
As if there a roaring whirlwind trod,
Or dreader still, an angry God!
XXIV.
The thunder ceased and shrieks aghast,
Loud as the roar of mountain blast,
Burst from that cloud's terrific fold,
Then all at once from sight it rolled;
Where it had been nought else was seen
But azure sky and mountains green,
A flowery dell with lofty trees,
That waved their leaves 'midst balmy breeze;
Along which that old man hoar and strange
With Beau de Main begins to range.
Far up that dell those travellers wound,
O'er barren rock and grassy ground;
At length a lofty hill they spy,
Piled up against the western sky,
Where many a tower confronts the eye,
With wall and gate and bulwark high;
All formed of vast stupendous blocks,
And seem'd a pyramid of rocks,
Of dark and green and red and gray;
By Titans piled in vast array,
To rear their battlements and towers,
When warr'd they 'gainst the heavenly powers.
High on the hills they stood sublime,
Seemed out of reach of storm or time,
As there they gleamed in grand array,
Beneath the beams of closing day!
But to them, of path, no utter trace
Was seen upon that mountain's face,
Of road where e'er the eye pursue
On right or left was caught no clue;
Like some rock-guarded eagle's nest,
High hung upon the mountain's crest,
Beyond the reach of hunter's hand,
Those towers amidst the sunshine stand!
XXV.
O'er his eyes his hand the hero raised,
To shield them from the beam that blazed,
And at their splendor all amazed
Steadfastly on those bulwarks gazed,
For stronger, loftier tower
He'd never seen before that hour;
It looked all like some mighty hold
Reared by the Cyclops Kings of old,
Yet all within and all around
Seem'd wrapt in silence so profound,
So void of life and stir and sound--
Those hills seem'd with a phantom crown'd.
But while he gazed the old man spake:
Come, thy way to yonder bulwark take!
No road I see, the knight replied,
O'er all yon mountain's lofty side,
Its whole broad surface I can view,
And road on it I see no clue;
And vain for me or you to try
The scaling of that mountain high;
Those rocks are all too smooth and steep
For man up them to climb or creep.
XXVI.
There is a road, the other spake,
Thyself for it now ready make,
Within thy hand thy falchion take,
Lift shield, and keep thine eye awake,
For I may lead on peril's path,
And thou must nobly brave their wrath;
And never glory yet was won
By any knight beneath yon sun,
Who did not bravely troubles meet,
And all unflinching dangers greet;
And put all perils to defeat,
Be they of body or of soul,
And onward press to glory's goal!
While thus he speaks they swiftly ride
Far down along the mountain's side,
To where the base with trees was crowned,
And then 'midst tangled bush they found
There opened a passage broad and wide,
Right through the hollow mountain's side;
In rode the twain, and soon anon
Saw a broad, steep way leading on,
To where those lofty towers rose,
In dream-like silence and dread repose.
XXVII.
They reached the bulwark's lofty wall,
Pass'd through an archway broad and tall,
Where stood a gate wide open cast,
Wrought out of bars of iron vast,
Braced with hands of ponderous brass,
And those of steel in mighty mass.
Scarce by the gate those twain were past
Than 'cross the archway it was cast,
Closed with a fierce and sudden sound,
That echoed all those bulwarks round;
And loud and plain was heard the jar
Of placing lock and bolt and bar.
The knight turn'd round with searching eye,
But not a thing could he descry
In likeness of the human race
About that archway's ample space;
The deed was done by hand unseen,
Perhaps not one of mortal mien.
XXVIII.
Then onward swift those horsemen ride
Into a court-yard long and wide,
Yet all the place of life seems free,
For not a beast nor man they see;
No sound of human voice they hear,
Nor any stir breaks on their ear,
Save their coursers' tread on stony ground,
They meet no other stir nor sound;
And these re-echo strange and drear
Through all those lofty bulwarks there.
Was it some dread, enchanted place
Unknown to those of mortal race,
Where never mortal trod before,
And whence he shall depart no more,
'Till time the judgment morn shall bring?
Or was it the tomb of some great king,
Who reign'd amidst the ages past,
Long since 'neath oblivion cast?
Who, though he rear'd a tomb as grand
As ever yet by monarch plann'd,
His fame and name he could not save
However cruel, good, or brave,
From wasting time and fleeting years,
That crumble all that mortal rears,
And all that nature can control?
While thus revolved the hero's soul,
From westward, from whence beam'd the sun
His setting rays o'er mountains dun,
He heard a deafening trumpet clang,
That echoing through those bulwarks rang;
Hills shook beneath that trumpet's blast,
As if through them an earthquake past,
And right between him and the light
The sunbeams cast upon that height.
A steel-clad champion he espied
Upon a coal-black charger ride,
With visor down and spear in rest,
Right onward unto him he press'd;
With clang of arms and courser's tread
The air was filled with tumult dread;
As if with riving thunders torn,
Not swifter yet a cloud was borne
Upon the pinions of the storm
Than sped that horse and steel-clad form;
And like a cloud that meets the sight,
Whose centre all is black as night,
Though round its edges lightnings play,
Gild it with terrible array,
For man and horse from head to heel
Are sheathed in plates of sable steel;
But gleaming helm and spear and sword,
And axe terrific, keen and broad,
That armed that rider cast a light
Like that round thunder-cloud at night.
XXIX.
Another glorious trumpet clang
Throughout those lofty ramparts rang;
And straight a line of glittering spears
Behind that rider grim appears;
Far down the hill they swift arise
Like flashing clouds that mount the skies,
And glowing helm and sword and shield
Are 'midst the rising ranks revealed;
And o'er the coming wave of steel
To and fro, golden banners reel.
Onward it came in swift career,
While dust made dark the stagnant air,
All that wide space grew dark and dun,
To silence sped the glowing sun,
As when the simoom fierce and red
Roars o'er the desert's sandy bed:
Yet nearer fast that wave of steel
Comes on with deafening trumpet peal,
That shakes the air with tumult dread,
While nearer sounds the measured tread
Of armed men, whose clanging sound
The stormy trumpet notes have drowned:
And nearer 'midst the dark'ning gloom
Is seen the coming helm and plume;
With broken gleams of ruddy light
Rise long arrays of lances bright;
The long arrays of shield and sword,
Of daggers keen and axes broad.
XXX.
Then from those lofty ramparts rose
Storms of unutterable woes,
Sighs, lamentations and loud moans,
Horrible outcries and hoarse groans;
All languages--tongues of every clime
Mix'd in that storm of anguish chime;
With hands together smote amain,
And feet that stamp with throes of pain.
Made up a tumult dread and fell
As ever roused the king of hell;
Made up a tumult grim and drear,
That whirled through all that darken'd air,
Like burning sand the simoom lifts,
And on that roaring whirlwind drifts.
With ear intent and eye awake,
As stands the lion in the brake,
With soul as void of mortal fear,
As oaks round which the tempests tear
All things strange, Beau de Main watched there
That met his eye or pierced his ear.
XXXI.
My gallant knight, thus spoke his guide,
Fear not the least yon ranks of pride,
Though they hem thee in on every side,
Thou shalt as victor o'er them ride.
Go, cleave each gleaming helm and shield,
Yon host through thee to death shall yield;
First take this spear and spur thy steed,
'Gainst him who doth yon squadron lead;
Yon sable knight who comes so fierce,
Him through the breast and breast-plate pierce,
He said, then unto Beau de Main
A spear he gave of twisted grain.
All like a stately mast in length,
And like the mountain oak for strength,
Armed at the end with steel as strong
As e'er was forged, wrought sharp and long,
This swift the hero placed in rest,
Waiting for him who onward pressed.
As there he stood a sudden flame
Swift bursting from that darkness came,
High o'er the hemisphere it sailed,
And through the darkened air prevailed.
XXXII.
As some dark cloud of giant form,
That rides upon the roaring storm,
That shakes the world beneath its path,
Whose thunders mutter forth its wrath;
Whose lightnings fiercely round it play,
And guides it on its rapid way,
That meeting bursts with deafening shock,
Upon the side of some firm rock;
Then downward falls in sudden flight,
Before that rock and fades from sight
So met that hero Beau de Main,
So sudden rolled upon the plain;
Through breast-plate and through breast that spear
Had torn a passage grim and drear,
With horrid din his armor rung,
As horse and man to earth were flung;
O'er broken steel his crimson blood
Fast steam'd to earth in ample flood;
By fallen steed he writhed with pain,
And never to arise again.
As to earth that champion came,
Died in the air that flash of flame;
Swift from the hemisphere it sailed,
And the darkness grim again prevailed
XXXIII.
Then favored by the solid gloom,
That gathered as the dread simoom,
Like whirlwind on that armed band
Rode Arthur's knight with flaming brand;
As through a grove of saplings strong
The horrid cyclone sweeps along,
Uproots and tears them from the ground,
And strews them all in ruin round;
Wide is its path and grim and dread
The devastation 'neath it spread;
When past the groves, it stays its course,
Then back returns with tenfold force;
Another path of ruin dread
Behind its roaring flight is spread;
So through that grove of lances bright,
Rode to and fro King Arthur's knight;
And all before him, right and left,
Went down with heads and helmets cleft,
Slaughtered and dying strew the ground
While armor clangs with horrid sound
And thunders through those ramparts tall,
Like waters o'er some mighty fall--
And echo over hill and glen.
XXXIV.
Not tamely died those armed men:
They closed upon King Arthur's knight,
With sword and spear and axes bright;
Three times they closed in fierce array,
And three times stopped his gory way,
While on his shield with horrid clang
Their spears and swords and axes rang.
With fearful din they closed on him,
Like roarings of the lions grim
Upon the night o'er shadowed wild,
With reeking slaughter round them piled;
And hunger drives them on amain,
To make themselves tombs of the slain.
They closed like angry billows' shock,
At midnight on a solid rock,
Whose lofty head with giant pines
Towering o'er the deep inclines;
Who while the floods are rocked below,
The roaring storms that o'er them blow;
In thousand shapes their branches throw,
And from them make fell tumult flow;
The branches clash, the waters roar,
On tempests mingled tumults pour,
And waked by nature's fierce unrest
The eagles leave their lofty nest;
And mounting on the tempest's car,
High o'er the elemental jar,
They flap their wings, then whirl around,
Send far their screams on night profound;
So on that knight those men closed in,
With trumpet's clang and armor's din.
XXXV.
But while amidst that darkness dread
Their blows at Arthur's knight they sped,
Full many a warrior's buckler broad
Was rent by his own comrade's sword;
Full many a brawny bosom there
Was pierced by its own comrade's spear;
By scores they fell amongst the slain,
By their own men, not Beau de Main;
Yet fought that hero fierce and grim,
'Till not one living stood round him.
Died out the trumpet's stirring peal,
And ceased the horrid clang of steel;
Then through the darkness burst a flame,
That gleaming o'er the ramparts came,
And ceased of pain, the horrid din
That roar'd like storms those walls within;
The setting sun his glory threw,
Around and all that gloom withdrew;
There round the hero lay his foes,
All stark and still in dread repose;
There broken armor strew'd the ground,
Heads cleft or pierced with wounds profound:
They lay in reeking crimson drown'd.
None save that hero and his guide
Were living 'midst that wreck espied.
Where that huge steed and rider lay
Those twain there bent their eager way;
His towering plume of sable hue
From off his glittering helm they drew;
Then doff his helm and visor all,
Full on his face the sunbeams fall.
Darker than night his shaggy beard,
Matted o'er visage stern appeared;
A savage frown those features wore,
As always in their life they bore;
And glared his eyes in death unclosed,
As fierce as when he foe opposed;
Dark as the shades of night were they,
And gleam'd in death with piercing ray;
O'er them his brows descending flowed,
Black as e'er raven's plumaged glowed;
Like eagle's bill his massive nose
Descending o'er his mouth arose;
But this was hid from human eye,
With heavy beard of sable dye;
A fiercer countenance on man
Than his, ne'er yet did nature scan.
Taking his face and bearing all,
His mighty statue broad and tall,
Ponderous limbs of massive length,
That all bespoke a monster's strength;
He seem'd more like a Titan grim
Than one of mortal form and limb.
XXXVI.
But he was one of mortal mould,
A giant cruel, strong and bold,
As in history we are told
Were often seen in days of old,
And wrought to mortal's dole and wrong.
His were those bulwarks tall and strong,
Whose walls of rock so broad and high,
Might wear of storm and time defy;
Whose bristling parapets and towers
Scoffing frown'd at human powers.
Right often did King Arthur's ear
Strange stories of these ramparts hear;
They told him of its mighty lord,
His savage statue tall and broad,
In size surpassing those of earth,
And who from monsters drew his birth;
Who lived on flesh of mortal men,
And drank their blood; who in his den
Unnumbered captives held in thrall.
Good knights and gentle ladies all.
But never could King Arthur's eye
The passage to those walls descry--
By day and night the path he sought,
But ne'er a clue to it he caught;
Or unto it had sped that king,
With all the knights that he could bring.
And he had raised that bulwark's wall,
Those captives straight had set from thrall,
Or he had with them found his fall
Beneath that grisly giant tall;
But of road or path no single clue
To reach those walls could Arthur view,
So safe from hand of mortal foe
They proudly scoffed at all below,
And safe within its lofty hold
Dwelt its tyrant owner fierce and bold,
Surrounded by a mighty throng
Of followers, haughty, huge and strong,
Who through the force of Beau de Main
Were numbered 'mongst the gory slain.
And for allies the giant sought
All who in necromancy wrought;
All conjurers of magic spell
Who wrought on earth the lore of hell;
Who could enchantments cast around,
And men with wizard's charms confound;
All those who could those arts unfold
Found favor in that lofy hold;
Through them he hidden kept the road
From men that led to his abode.
But ways there were and more than three
That gave egress and ingress free,
By which could pass both steeds and men,
From there unto the distant glen,
Easier far and safer more
Than that De Main had travelled o'er.
And when a destined deed he'll do,
He'll break the subtle secrets through,
To every road he'll find the clue
And easily each road he pursue.
XXXVII.
In glowing chambers of the West
The sun's in all his glory drest,
Basking beneath his tingeing smile
Float round unnumbered clouds the while,
O'er his bright disk their forms they throw,
And 'neath him all resplendent glow.
All o'er the sky the clouds are rolled
With hues of amber and of gold,
With forms apart by sunbeams torn,
They all the western skies adorn.
But in the East a mighty cloud
Doth all the sky with sable shroud;
From earth unto the zenith's bound,
It spread its robe of gloom profound;
But bright on the darkness that it reared
A vision of glory there appeared;
It came like a spirit on the cloud,
Whose beauty could no darkness shroud;
It spread in a glorious arch,
From horizon to zenith did march.
Then sublime in its grandeur it stood,
O'er hanging the mountains and wood,
The valleys, the torrents, and flood,
Tingeing their flow with the hues of blood;
Sped the rays of the sun from the land,
Yet, that iris the heavens still spann'd;
Near the earth it ends darkened anon,
While in the zenith it still beam'd on,
Smiled on earth like an angel of light,
'Till the sunbeams departed from sight.
Then away like a phantom it fled,
And dense darkness after it sped.
Night o'er the mountains her banner unfurl'd,
And solid gloom settled over the world.
PART II.
I.
At midnight round that lofty wall,
Wherein was utter silence all,
That hero and his trusty guide
All noiseless as two spectres ride;
A solid darkness grim and drear
Lay o'er the sky and everywhere,
While silence horrid and profound
Reigned over all the hills around;
No breath of air the darkness stirred,
Nor rustling of a leaf was heard;
No night-hawk's scream, no shriek of owl,
No stir of bats, nor watch-dogs' howl,
Though many in those walls were bred,
Stirr'd once with sound that darkness dread.
All was as silent and as dark
As is the dead oak's withered bark,
That lies at night on desert sand,
Charred by the lightning's blasting brand;
All was as silent as the tomb,
And spread around as dense a gloom,
Around all nature seem'd to rest,
As if with some grim awe oppressed;
In stillness horrible she stood,
Like mourner wrapped in sable hood,
Whom grief has freed of vital breath,
And placed upon the lap of death.
But the dreadest silence ever born
Shall with stirring sound of man be torn,
And he shall break through every spell
By witches brought to earth from hell;
He shall crush their power and might,
Through him from earth they'll wing their flight,
And he shall turn their realms of night
To regions, joyous, grand and bright.
His dauntless soul and stalwart arm
Shall burst the wizard's fatal charm;
The fell necromancer's power
Through man shall find its dying hour;
He all spells, arts and charms shall quell,
And victor stand o'er those and hell.
Foremost of all in nature's clime,
And all the universe sublime,
Where being is, shall man be found,
And be its king forever crown'd;
And subject be to only Him
Who fashioned body, soul and limb,
Created after His own plan,
Breathed in him life, and called him man.
II.
Apace the night was speeding on,
Yet did black darkness all things don;
Meanwhile that hero and his guide
A gateway in the walls espied;
But it was close and bolted fast,
With locks deep set in granite vast,
And formed of such stupendous bars
And beams of steel and brass, it mars
That stalwart hero's utmost strength,
To e'en shake its ponderous length;
But through its bars his gaze he cast,
And peered into those bulwarks vast,
And there he saw far, far away,
A flame of blue unearthly ray;
Within a grisly skull it burn'd,
Which round and round forever turn'd
As doth the windmill in the blast,
And horrid sparks around it cast.
'Twas just one thousand years that night
Since first was lit that hellish light,
Yet day and night that flame had burn'd,
And round and round the skull had turn'd,
Showering sparks in ceaseless flight.
Astonished gazed the wondering knight,
While ghastly figures round it drew,
And caught the sparks that from it flew;
Held them before their glaring eyes,
And watched them into serpents rise;
Which soon as they with being breathed,
They round their demon bodies wreathed.
One saw he 'mongst those demons grim
Far more dread both in shape and limb
Than all the rest; this grisly form
Was black as cloud of thunder storm;
His massive breast and limbs of length
Showed him a monster huge in strength,
His horrid eyes gleam'd fierce with light,
But black as is the womb of night;
Bald was his head and o'er his face
Was seen of hair no single trace;
His horrid mouth a tusk revealed,
Huge as the boss on hero's shield;
And from each side with gleaming fang
Did two grim hissing serpents hang;
Huge was his nose, from nostrils broad
Eternal jets of steam he poured;
A crown wrought out of bones of men,
And whiter than the frost on fen,
High on his grisly head he wore,
And plainly this device it bore:
Who e'er o'ercomes this form in flight
Shall with its blood destroy the light
That in this skull forever burns,
And round and round forever turns;
When it is quenched the wizard's power
Shall instant fly this fatal tower;
Brave must he be and strong his arm,
Who dares to deal us dole and harm.
Scarce this the gazing knight had read
Than swift he sees that monster dread
Grasp in his hands a mighty spear,
Vast as an oak the mountains rear--
Weighty and knotty, thick and long,
Steel'd at the end both keen and strong;
Round it he coils a serpent vast,
That hisses flame horrid and 'ghast--
As lightnings from the clouds are cast,
When they ride at night on the blast;
Then high o'er his head he shakes the spear,
Whirls it round and around in air,
All as easy as some frail toy
In the hand of a stalwart boy.
Then round him danced unearthly forms,
And rose a wail like rising storms;
When on the night o'er shadow'd plain
The storm king comes with all his main;
And eagles scream and flap their wings,
High o'er the tumult that he brings.
III.
Swift towards the gate where stood the knight
Came on that form of demon might;
Close at his side a monster grim,
Of all unearthly shape and limb
Moved its ponderous length along,
Swift as an elephant and strong;
And like that beast its head it reared,
A trunk and two huge tusks appeared;
And o'er its back a scaly hide
Harder than steel the knight espied;
But where its neck and shoulders met
Was no defense 'gainst weapon set;
This saw the knight and marked the spot,
Nor in the fray that place forgot.
Ten legs from earth the monster bore,
Seven behind and three before;
And these were armed with mighty claws,
Like those round prey the lion draws;
And from it hung a snaky tail,
All covered o'er with horny scale;
Onward it came with lordly stride,
Its sable master close beside.
IV.
Open the gate the giant threw,
Against the solid wall it flew--
With dread recoil and jarring sound,
That fill'd with din the air around;
While its huge hinges grating roar'd,
And hoarse, harsh thunders round it pour'd.
And forth upon King Arthur's knight
Rushed out that form of demon might.
As on he came in swift career
On high he reared his knotted spear;
While high in air its gleaming point
Shone like a steeple's topmost joint;
Ere yet it took its downward flight
Upon that gallant steed and knight,
As bursts from cloud a flash of flame,
Full on the giant grim he came;
And through his bosom deep and broad
Up to the hilt he drove his sword;
And long before that giant's spear
Began to downward cleave the air,
His sword the good knight drew amain,
And pierced him through and through again.
Through heart and lungs the blade he drove,
And heart and lungs asunder clove;
Back on his monster huge and grim
The giant went with quivering limb;
Beneath his weight the monster fell
Crushed to the earth, and roar'd a yell
That shook the startled air around,
As if did hoarded thunders sound;
Then swifter than a flash of thought
On it his blade the good knight brought--
Right where the neck and shoulders grew,
And through that place his falchion flew--
That head to earth 'midst warm blood sunk,
And dying writhed the headless trunk.
Dropped from the giant's knotted spear,
The grisly serpent he'd coiled there--
Writhing it lay with broken fang,
And heaved on earth its dying pang.
Then in a vessel deep and wide,
That lay that lofty gate beside,
The knight caught up that giant's gore,
Fill'd it so it would hold no more;
And towards that all infernal light,
That glared within that skull so bright,
He onward spurr'd his snorting horse,
Swift as storm sweeps o'er its course,
And as storm in vigor and force
That sweeps over seas of the Norse!
V.
As that strange light the hero near'd,
Round it unearthly forms appear'd;
Loud neighed the steed and prick'd his ears,
And seems at times o'erwhelm'd with fears
At what there round that light appears,
And sounds that from that flame he hears;
Trembles that steed through form and limb,
Before that flame so strange and grim,
And not till in his foamy flank
Right oft and deep the rowels sank
Would he approach that hellish light,
And near it bring King Arthur's knight.
VI.
Right o'er the flame the hero drew,
And on it fast the gore he threw;
But ere that flame to darkness grew
Gore round in hissing showers flew;
And rising clouds of smoke and steam,
Gives it a more infernal gleam.
Again on it the gore he threw,
And unto utter night it grew;
While hiss'd it like the seething steel
When first its heat the waters feel.
Then rocked those ramparts dread and strange
As if through them did whirlwinds range;
And all things round began to change
Their color, aspect, size and form,
Like clouds before the driving storm.
Shook lofty parapet and tower,
Like leaves in autumn's windy bower;
While all unsightly figures glide
Around the walls on every side;
Then instant vanish in the air
With horrid shriekings of despair;
Filling the solid gloom around
With tumult dismal and profound;
Shook it as if huge birds of prey
Forever through it winged their way;
And flapped their pinions with a sound
That made the air like waves rebound,
When wild the ocean's surges roar,
Waging fray at night on rocky shore;
Or like huge sails on stately mast,
That flap amidst the midnight blast,
While waves toss 'neath the storm's control
And overhead the thunders roll.
VII.
Dead silence came a little space,
And rested over nature's face,
And from the battlements and walls
The solid gloom that instant falls;
Springs up a breeze that fans the air,
And all the gloom doth disappear--
Unnumbered stars in heaven shine,
And cast below their light divine;
And all around the ramparts rise
Distinctly to the hero's eyes.
Bright in the East o'er mountains green
The half-fill'd, ascending moon is seen;
Enormous clouds around her sail,
And make at times her lustre pale;
But their edges craggy, dark and torn,
She doth with glowing light adorn;
Gives all a glory not their own,
That circle round her beaming throne,
And on the dewy forests green
She pours her all bewitching sheen;
And where, amidst the far-off trees,
At times moves forth the gentle breeze,
Where leaves are waving to and fro,
The pearly dew-drops that they show,
Glitter beneath her glowing beam,
And molten, flowing silver seem.
And barren rocks o'er mountains thrown,
That never moss nor tree have grown;
Nor sign of vintage yet have known,
She decks with glory not their own;
Huge rocks of iron and of lime,
Impervious to storm or time;
Beneath her all enlivening glow,
The lustre of the diamond show;
And over all that lofty wall,
High parapet and tower tall,
Her glowing beams in glory fall,
And fill with light those ramparts all.
O'er spread with sheen and peace sublime,
All rested there throughout that clime.
VIII.
Towards a casement broad and tall,
Placed in that bulwark's granite wall,
Where suddenly a taper burns,
His scanning eyes that hero turns;
And there beheld a weeping throng
Of youths and maidens fair and strong.
Between their tears and wails of woe,
That all throughout those bulwarks flow,
And make them with their anguish ring,
A sorrow-laden song they sing.
The language of those strains they sung
Seem'd ever of the Hebrew tongue;
But one that on the hero's ear
Fell aye most dismal and most drear,
With sorrow freighted wild and grim,
His guide thus rendered unto him:
IX.
Shall our anguish never end?
Must we 'neath it forever bend?
Have we no Saviour, God or friend,
Who'll pity take and succor send?
Must our poor frames forever feel
The tyrant's chains and burning steel?
His scourging lash and crushing wheel,
Whose pains make soul and senses reel?
That leaves the body numbed with pain
'Till scarce the blood crawls through the vein;
Then tighter draws the clanking chain,
'Till we for gold shall ransom gain?
Oh, who will our succor be?
Oh, who will us from tortures free?
Who'll bring the hoard and pay the fee?
God of heaven, we look to Thee!
Thou God of Jacob, who of old
The gushing floods from Horeb rolled,
Who waters of the sea controll'd,
And through them led Thy chosen fold;
Who amidst thunder, smoke and flame
On Sinai's mount to Moses came,
Who with fire and sword Thy name
Did unto Israel's foes proclaim!
God of Abraham, who of old
The glories of his race foretold!
With pity here our pains behold,
For we belong unto that fold!
Bid this long night of bondage break
And bid the morn of freedom wake;
O God! upon us mercy take,
If but for only Isaac's sake!
X.
Ceased the sad song and sadder strain,
But in the ear of Beau de Main
It rung as deep and wild and strong
As when their voices woke the song.
E'en when long years had past, his ear
Seem'd still that mournful song to hear;
Go where he would, its echoes still
Seem'd ever on his ears to thrill.
But while they sang that mournful lay
The beams of morning, hoar and gray,
Along the eastern skies began
With light the universe to span;
And soon Aurora's rosy car
Had paled the moon and dimmed east star;
Cast over hill and dale below
The sun's warm light and cheering glow;
Beneath his sheen the forests wide,
O'er hill and dale and mountain's side,
Put on that dark green, waving glow,
They only 'neath his lustre show;
While high o'er them on flapping wing
Did birds their morning praises sing;
And distant stream and mountain flood
Donn'd hues of crimson, gold and blood;
And o'er the fall, the torrent's spray
Like diamond flashed beneath his ray;
While all the hills of clouds that rolled
Around his disk were turn'd to gold.
XI.
Bright on the parapets and towers
The sun diplays his morning powers;
Through all that castle's ample halls
The flooding light of sunshine falls.
Those men themselves from saddles free,
And tie their chargers to a tree
That rear'd itself erect and tall,
As was that bulwark's lofty wall.
Then through a doorway tall and wide
Moved on that hero and his guide--
From room to room, from door to door,
They all that stately place explore.
And many things they there behold,
Like urns and vases wrought of gold;
Huge sceptres, crown and diadems,
Set thick with flashing, starry gems;
Huge polished helms with gold inlaid,
Piled high they in those rooms surveyed;
And swords whose hilts with gems were crown'd
That blinding lightnings flashed around.
And there did piles of treasure gleam
More vast than e'er in thought or dream
A miser yet conceived, and more
Than ever formed a monarch's store.
But with contempt from all this hoard,
And gems that flashed their light abroad,
As sheen as ever lightning burn'd,
The glory-seeking hero turn'd;
Such prize as it his spirit spurn'd;
Immortal renown, deathless fame,
Was his soul's only thought and aim;
And that glory must by him be won,
Where only knightly deeds are done;
Brave hell and fiends and all their wrath,
But never swerve from virtue's path.
XII.
Down to the gloomy vaults below,
Whence throes of pain eternal flow--
Where groans, wails, lamentations, sighs,
In divers languages arise--
With curses ever and anon,
That hero and his guide move on.
From vault to vault, o'er stony floors,
Through iron gates and massive doors,
Whose hinges grated, creaked and roar'd,
Those twain the grisly place explored.
Gyves, shackles and rusty chains,
Bespattered thick with gory stains,
Are piled in windrows long and tall,
And hang upon the mouldy wall.
Yet, in the rings of some are seen
Bones crusted o'er with mildew green--
Showing that forms of human kind
Those grisly fetters once did bind;
And they not only in them died,
But into skeletons they dried;
There perished and consumed away,
'Till scarce of them a vestige lay.
In one set of fetters they espied
A youth who but lately must have died;
All naked was his wasting form,
And it did worms consuming swarm;
Its skin from end to end was flaw'd,
With vermin, rats and mice had gnaw'd;
O'er it green mould was growing fast,
And stifling fumes from it was cast.
And other sets securely span
Skeletons of woman or of man,
With flesh entirely destroyed,
Whose eyes displayed their horrid void;
Whose hollow ribs and grinning skull
Tell gazers there did tyrants cull
All vengeance, hate and ire grim,
They could from human form and limb.
Sickened with the fell scenes around,
As before he'd ne'er seen nor found,
With hasty steps he onward drew
To where that wail of anguish grew;
And soon within a vault he found
A throng of youths in fetters bound;
Whose bodies horrid scars reveal,
From burning oil and fusing steel;
With their toes, ears and fingers lopped,
And strown o'er floors where they had dropped,
With eyes that from grim sorrow glare,
Upon those twain they fix their stare;
Cease their wail of anguish deep,
And stop the scalding tears they weep;
With parted lips and glaring eyes
They view the twain with dumb surprise.
XIII.
Mute stood the knight a little space,
And in it view'd each captive's face;
On all their features woe and want
And famine stared forth grim and gaunt;
Such grisly wrecks in shapes of men
Had ne'er been seen by him 'till then;
Naked stood each poor captive's form,
As leafless trees in winter's storm;
And even all their hair and beard
The captor's rage and hate had shared;
All this unto the roots was singed,
And dark with flame the skin was tinged,
While scars were seen from head to heel,
From scalding oil and burning steel;
Some deep unto the bones were burn'd.
Awed at the sight, the hero turn'd
In haste his sicken'd gaze away,
Where casement broad let in the light of day.
Through it far off the walls he spied
Of stately towers, tall and wide,
And on their walls were casements seen
Whence curtains steam of gold and green,
Of yellow, crimson, red and blue,
And every varied shade and hue
That art or nature could yet show,
Or both of these shall ever know;
Amidst the flooding sunshine's glow,
On winds that wave them to and fro;
Rich fabrics they as e'er were wrought,
Or ever yet to kings were brought,
From Carthage, Tyre or Sidon's looms.
O'er them each flower in nature blooms,
Each flower its native hue assumes,
Just as nature it with beauty plumes.
Upon the all-enchanting scene
Long gazed the knight with vision keen;
Long looked the knight, for twice he saw
Forms of surpassing beauty draw
Unto those casements broad and high;
Gaze each with sorrow streaming eye,
And saw their scalding teardrops fall
Like rain flow down the lofty wall,
Which neither wind nor sunshine dried.
While there he gazed his hoary guide
Each captive of his fetters freed--
Did all from out that dungeon lead,
Into a court-yard long and broad,
Through which clear streams of water pour'd;
But as they reached the crystal wave,
Ere yet a hand those waters lave,
There side by side right on its brink
O'er worn with famine, those captives sink,
Breathing the saddest word that Fate
E're gave to man--Too late! too late!
And hand in hand, and side by side:
Breathing this word, those captives died;
By famine wasted gaunt and grim,
With grisly scars o'er form and limb:
A horrid spectacle they made,
As side by side in death they laid.
O'er the ghastly scene a mournful view
The old man cast and swift withdrew
Then with the hero swift he speeds
Where e'er the eye or fancy leads.
XIV.
Into that castle huge and grand,
Where weeping forms at windows stand,
With hasty step those twain speed on,
Where groans rise ever and anon--
Strike on the vaulted roof around,
And fill the air with dismal sound.
Yet onward swift the twain explore
Until they each a lofty door,
Which marks of time and ruin wore,
And on it this inscription bore:
INSCRIPTION:
Mortal! be it woman, maid or man,
Fear the secrets of this hall to scan:
For whosoever enters here
Shall never leave these halls of fear;
Rash adventurer, read this o'er,
Then turn back and intrude no more!
XV.
That I'll ne'er do, the knight began,
While I can hilt of broadsword span;
While I am warm'd with blood of man.
I fear no secrets there to scan,
He said, and 'gainst the lofty door
His strength he threw; with harsh, loud roar
Of grating hinge it open flew,
And swift the twain within it drew;
While burst unearthly yells of scorn,
That fill'd their ears like blasts from horn.
Soon as they clear'd the doorway broad
A hand unseen, a flaming sword.
Struck on the door; with deafening sound
It fill'd the lofty walls around;
And closed again the door was sprung,
While hinges hoarse, harsh thunders rung;
Through wide wastes of bowers and halls,
Whose splendor on their vision falls--
With varied glory, such as streams
On banks of broken clouds, when gleams
The setting sun behind a storm,
And limns 'midst them the rainbow's form.
It seem'd all charms of earth and sky
Did there in mingling glory vie;
And all the wealth in nature known
Was there in rich confusion thrown.
There goblets bright with gold inlaid,
And tables all of silver made.
On which huge piles of coin were piled,
All round with burnished lustre smiled.
There golden vases, trays and urns
Are seen where e'er the vision turns;
With those of silver, whose lustre burns
Like flame and e'en that brightness spurns;
And all the place with splendor churns,
While high o'er head the eye discerns,
From lofty walls and ceilings hung,
Banners as gay as ever flung
Their folds upon the breeze's wings
When triumphal marched the eastern kings.
O'er casements wide were curtains thrown,
Of every tinge and color known;
Through which the sun his lustre threw,
And spread on all enchanted hue--
Of every sheen and varied shade
That ever art or nature made.
While did at every casement stand
Forms all like mortal maidens plann'd;
And fashioned all as fair and grand
As e'er the eye of mortal scann'd.
Some wore long, golden, wavy hair,
Which like the sunshine stream'd through air,
While some wore dark as is the shade
Of which the raven's plume is made;
And all as glossy and as sheen
As is that polished lustre seen
Upon the sable serpent's hide,
Where sunshine gilds his glossy pride.
And every form that there appears
Seems to be a Niobe of tears;
With heads lean'd o'er the casement's sill,
They fast eternal tears distill;
Like human tears they seem to fall,
And flow adown the castle wall;
But not from them a murmur flows,
Nor slightest sound of mortal throes--
Save tears all seem'd as void of woes,
As rock down which the water goes.
Upon a statue nobly plann'd
The hero placed his steel-clad hand--
Back from her face her tresses threw,
And on her featuers fixed his view,
And thus began in merry mood:
XVI.
In me did darkening horror brood,
And boil'd my blood through every limb
When first from yonder dungeon grim
These forms of weeping maids I saw;
I would have sworn I view'd them draw
Their faces from these casements high,
And then return with weeping eye;
I saw them move I would have sworn,
And vow'd they were of woman born--
I little deem'd, but here I'd seek,
And gentle maidens find and meek;
Not forms that neither breathe nor speak:
Wrought by the chisel of some Greek;
Who out of silent stone can form
A shape that seems with being warm;
That seems to bow and move and walk,
Its nostrils breathe, and lips to talk.
And I had also sworn when first
These forms upon my vision burst,
That I heard groans and sighs of pain
Ring on mine ears again, again!
Perhaps in them poor mortals dwell,
Closed up in them by magic spell--
Brought to earth by fiends from hell,
Which hero's arm and soul shall quell.
But now this secret I will test:
For when I came upon this quest,
I secret swore within my breast
That I would neither pause nor rest
'Till every cursed wizard's charm
I did of all its force disarm;
And set each pining captive free
That might within this castle be.
And this I'll do while my good breath
Keeps me from numbers grim, of death.
As this he said, an axe he caught
Within his hand, and down he brought
The polished weapon, huge and dread,
With force immense upon the statue's head.
On the floor that blow the statue threw,
Which in a thousand fragments flew;
While all that axe of ponderous mass
To atoms sped like shattered glass;
And all the air around was torn
With loud, unearthly yells of scorn,
And scream'd a voice from out a vault:
Stay here thy course, rash mortal, halt!
XVII.
That I'll not do, the knight replied,
With voice that roar'd as far and wide,
And shook the startled air around
With just as much of life and sound!
That I'll not do, for when I sped
To search this castle grim and dread,
I secret swore within my soul
No force in man, no fiend's control--
Should make me either pause or rest
'Till I had sped through all my quest;
And none of force that they control
Shall make me perjure my true soul;
Nor shall they ever dull the zest
For glory throbbing in my breast.
With my good sword my path I'll hew,
Though foes unnumbered rise to view;
And die, or honor's path pursue,
Nor reck I who shall mourn or rue
The way I tread, all those I harm
Deeds of true glory cannot charm.
Back I'd not turn for all the hoard
That mortals own in nature broad,
'Till I have all this place explored,
And glory won with my good sword;
'Till all shall fall beneath its sway,
He said, and moved upon his way.
XVIII.
On through wastes of bowers and halls,
That vaster grow as they proceed--
Where paintings hang on all the walls,
And eyes with chanting beauty feed;
Where through silken screens the sunlight falls
On mimic forest, field and mead
On mountain glen that rock enthralls,
Those twain in utter silence speed.
There wrought in wax are forests seen,
Standing on all those spacious floors--
Glowing on high with native green,
As when they bloom o'er hills and moors;
There gum and beach and poplar tall,
The chestnut, oak and lofty pine,
The cedar, maple, ash and all
That grow on glen or steep incline;
While over all their heads doth crawl
The binding folds of spreading vine,
While at their feet from wall to wall
The dark green, glossy grasses shine,
And flowers of every shape and hue
Are 'midst those spreading forests seen.
The yellow, crimson, white and blue
Bloom on their stems of lifelike green;
And spacious orchards bloom around--
The cherry, apple, peach and pear,
With lifelike fruit or blossoms crown'd,
On high their stately heads they rear--
And there no blooming gage and plum
Threw round their branches tough and firm
With life-like tears of oozing gum,
That spread o'er every bole and limb.
And waved the tall acacia round,
The palm, the orange and the lime--
All trees and shrubs in nature found,
That bud and bloom in every clime.
XIX.
Then next they see a forest wide,
That on a rocky mountain stands--
It covers all its dark brown side,
As planted there by nature's hands;
'Tis autumn there, the trees are bare
Of dark green leaves and bloomy spray,
But suns and frosts have smitten there,
And turn'd them red and brown and gray:
But ample fruit their branches load,
In clusters from each limb 'tis hung,
And over all its soil 'tis strowed
In rich and grand abundance flung.
And then amidst a seeming fen,
Where nuts and acorns strew the ground,
Unnumbered wild hogs make their den,
And view their paradise around.
Then next, unmeasured wastes they see
Where grass seems ever waving green,
There all earthly monsters wander free
As in the wilds of nature seen:
The lion, elephant and bear,
The tiger and the kangaroo,
With hyenas, seem to wander there
With rhinoceros and leopard too;
And every beast that mortals fear,
Or lonely jungles bring to view:
And lifelike there they all appear,
As if they in the jungle grew.
XX.
Next meets the eye a field of wheat,
That rears its ripen'd ears on high,
And near it brown'd with rain and heat
Waves ripe a waste of lofty rye;
And all around the reapers stand
With arm unto the elbow bared,
The shining sickle fills one hand,
The other with cut grain appear'd.
Next, fields of corn in even rows
Stately in tassel'd bloom is seen,
The same as on the moor it grows
When waving in its pride of green.
And oft the waving blades disclose
The plowman with his team between,
Or youths and maids with shining hoes,
And all of sprightly mortal mien;
Some, while seen to wave the blades above
Their heads and hide them from the rest,
Received their harmless kiss of love
From those they seem to prize the best.
Then next a hoary lodge arose
Half seen amidst a lofty grove,
Its front a shallow river shows
Whose waters over pebbles rove.
And far to left and far to right,
Where e'er the searching eye may view,
Vast herds of cattle rise to sight
'Midst pasture rich as ever grew;
There lifelike stood the stately steer,
With hidden ribs and glossy hide;
There seem'd the steeds in swift career,
With heads erect and nostrils wide,
All startled into mortal fear,
By eagles flying at their side.
And there 'midst pastures rich and rare
Were mighty herds of kine espied;
And sheep unnumbered thronged the scene,
With skipping lambs that round them play'd,
While clad from head to heel in green,
The watchful shepherds near them stray'd.
But who can limn the varied scenes
That rose to view amidst those halls?
That rose in wax-work or on screens,
Or canvas vast, along those walls?
E'en there the bounding ship careens,
On it the rolling billow falls--
The bending mast o'er ocean leans,
Through it the flying surge recalls;
The clounds around the sun are roll'd,
Yet comes enough of glancing ray
To light the waves by storms controll'd,
And gild their crest with sparkling spray;
While on that vessel's foamy wake
Huge whales from ocean rise to view,
O'er their grim forms the surges break,
And o'er these screams the white seamew.
The tattered sail on flying gale
Still clinging to the lonely mast,
The trembling crew, the helmsman pale,
Seem living on the canvas cast;
Each seems to breathe, and stand alive
Upon that vessel's wave-washed deck,
And did with all their power strive
To fight the floods that would them wreck;
That would her unto ruin drive,
If left to winds and billow's beck.
Next rose a mountain scene sublime,
Adown whose lofty woody slope,
Like fairies of the olden time,
Came fawn and spotted antelope;
From peak to peak, from crag to crag,
That bold and high stand o'er the rest,
Was seen the goat and bounding stag,
And eagle soaring o'er her nest.
While like the witch or midnight hag,
The owl stared from a rock's high crest;
While their huge length grim serpents drag,
With heads erect, for victims quest;
With flaming tongues and glaring eyes
Their folds around their prey they coil;
And darting from the canvas rise,
As in some sultry native soil.
Next battle-scenes the walls assume:
Glittering axe and spear and shield,
And blazing helm and nodding plume,
With flaming swords flash o'er the field;
Sheathed are the men from head to heel,
In armor bright as flashing flame--
With mighty shields of brass and steel,
Where sevenfolds together came;
And riveted so sure and fast
No spear nor mace nor axe nor sword--
Could their strong ties asunder cast,
Nor pierce nor break the egis broad.
The armies were together roll'd,
In mixed, confused and dread affray--
Through morions bright and helms of gold
Both axe and falchion made their way;
And over field and gory wold
Unnumbered dead and dying lay;
And on those dead the chargers tread,
And crush out reeking brains and gore
And the blood of the dying spread
With their iron hoofs upon the moor.
And over steeds and riders bold
Thick grows the dust and gory spray,
As plain the twain the scenes behold:
As there were men and waging fray;
Cloyed of the scenes around these roll'd,
With keener haste they speed their way;
Past a huge hall were breezes troll'd,
From walls vast fabrics rich and gay--
Silks, satins, velvets and cashmeres,
And plumes and furs of gaudy shade:
All Carthage, Tyre and Sidon's wares,
Where were the richest fabrics made.
Past these in haste the twain move on,
Through many a strange and winding way
Where gaud, forever and anon
They view, no matter where they stray;
When lo, their way is cross'd once more
By door of strange and massive size,
And with letters cast in golden ore
This strange inscription meets their eyes:
INSCRIPTION:
Rash adventurer, would thou dare
The secrets of these halls behold,
Thyself thou must of armor bare,
And wrap thee in a silken fold;
No mail-clad hero enters here,
Helmet of neither steel nor gold;
No glittering shield nor sword nor spear,
As worn by heroes strong and bold;
But he who enters here in steel
Must first aloud this trumpet blow,
And when these halls have heard its peal,
'Twill fearful odds against him throw!
So, rash adventurer, turn thee back,
Nor seek to view the prophet's shrine--
Return upon thy journeyed track,
While life and liberty are thine.
XXII.
Such words as those might shake with fear
He who never a danger dared,
Who never lifted a sword or spear,
Nor the perils of battle shared;
But I hold them as idle things,
And from me I cast them away--
Heed them little as shadow from wings
Of the magpie, sparrow or jay.
This mighty trumpet I shall blow,
Its loudest music send abroad--
All odds it shall against me throw,
I'll nobly face with my good sword.
With that a mighty trump he raised
Within his hand, 'twas wrought of gold,
That lay before the door, and blazed
With diamonds gorgeous to behold;
A mighty trump of wonderous size,
And of enchanting beauty wrought--
A richer and more costly prize
Was never yet to monarch brought.
Around and round that trump he turn'd,
And view'd it o'er from end to end--
Where gems of flashing brightness burn'd,
And did with every color blend.
Then said, No living thing I've seen
'Midst all this waste of gaudy show,
Though oft behind some silken screen
Methought there lurked a secret foe;
But when with ready sword I sought
The form, and rightly did survey,
I found of wax or brass 'twas wrought,
Of marble or of lifeless clay.
The work of Roman or of Greek,
Or of some cunning race of men,
Who mould the forms that seem to speak,
And seem to mortal being ken.
If sound of this to me will bring
The likeness of a human thing,
With blood and thew and being warm,
Then let it come, as come it will,
With fear it shall not make me thrill:
However dreadful be the form,
He said, and blew a blast as shrill
As e'er through gorges of a hill
Has piped the breath of furious storm.
XXIII.
From turret to foundation stone
Shook all beneath that trumpet's tone,
As if the walls and solid rock
Were shaken by an earthquake shock;
And swifter than a flash of flame
The massive door wide open came.
It and the vast partition flew
Back to the walls, and spread to view
A lofty and enormous hall;
Where o'er its floors from wall to wall
Arose an army vast, arrayed
In gleaming steel, whose lustre made
A brightness all that place pervade,
As if it all was wrapt in flame;
And fire, whose sheen might put to shame
The brightest earthly blaze that man
Can into gleaming embers fan.
O'er his eyes his hand the hero raised,
To shield them from the sheen that blazed,
And long his searching gaze he threw
On splendor that there met his view:
There rank behind rank, line on line,
Both horse and foot in armor shine--
Enormous steeds and riders grim,
Of towering form and giant limb;
High o'er their helms the gaudy plumes,
Of every color wrought that blooms
In nature's reign, there waving rise
In untold splendor; with surprise
He views the enormous plates of steel
That arm those forms from head to heel,
The bossy shields of massive strength,
And swords of wonderous breadth and length.
XXIV.
Foremost of all, five columns deep,
Huge spearmen stand, the horsemen keep
From the approach of charging foe,
Their gleaming spears all ranged arow--
Levelled and far advanced reveal
A horrid front of gleaming steel;
So close their points together shine
No man between could pass their line,
And in their front a breastwork stood
Of craggy rocks and beams of wood.
Keen looked the gallant knight, but he
No signs of life could 'mongst them see;
Where e'er he look'd nought they reveal
But lifeless images in steel!
Nor do their close up visors show
One sign of eyes that flash or glow,
Nor from their chargers' nostrils wide
Is single sign of breath espied;
Silent as death they block'd the pass,
And were but forms of steel and brass.
XXV.
Again the glittering trump he blew,
And straight that host in motion threw:
The horsemen swift their falchions drew,
And seem dread murmurs from them flew,
As brandished high their weapons gleam
Bright as the flames the lightnings stream:
There poised on high each shining brand
Rests still, as waiting some command;
While to and fro the host of spears
A moment moves, then straight appears
All sign of life from 'mongst them fled,
And tomblike silence 'mongst them spread.
Again the trump he blew; no more
They moved in action as before;
Again, again with deafening sound,
That trumpet's music sped around;
But not a sign of life it brought,
It not a sign of action wrought
Amongst those grisly forms of steel.
Moveless they stand from head to heel;
And all in postures stand alike,
Ready to charge, to thrust or strike.
XXVI.
Then spoke the knight, half roused to wrath:
I swore no force should stop my path
By either man or fiend controll'd,
And true unto my oath I'll hold.
On yonder grisly host I'll charge,
And through it make an opening large;
I'll stir them into motion grim,
If they be things of form and limb;
Nor shall they block my onward road
'Till greater signs of life are show'd;
And I have tried their strength of limb,
He said, and from the breast-work grim,
Which stood that host of spears before,
A rock of mighty mass he tore,
High o'er his head the rock he rear'd--
Poised in his hand, the rock appeared
Craggy and weighty, vast and dread;
Three times he whirls it round his head,
While backward bending for the throw--
Then hurls it with terrific blow:
Full on the line of spears it flew,
And clear'd its path their columns through:
Down spear and spearmen went amain,
Nor from the floor rose up again;
Broken beneath the ruin dread
Around is shattered armor spread.
Another mighty crag he threw,
Which full upon a horseman flew,
And down he went; then strange to tell
But true, each steed and rider fell
Prone on that floor; with horrid clang
The fallen mass of armor rang;
But not one groan nor dying pang
The hero heard, as swift he sprang
Upon his foes, with trump and sword,
And mimic men and steeds explored.
XXVII.
Onward, through bowers grand and gay,
Again the twain pursue their way;
When soon they gain'd a lofty shrine
Round which did beads unnumbered shine.
Decked o'er with crimson, gold and green
High o'er the shrine a cross was seen;
And round the al