"Whose arms of late have scourged the Paynim race,21
And worsted Satan!"—"Satan, who is he?"
Greatly the knight was shock'd in that fair place,
To find such ignorance of the powers that be:
So then, from Eve and Serpent he began;
And sketch'd the history of the Foe of Man.
"Ah," said the Augur,—"here, I comprehend22
Ægypt, and Typhon, and the serpent creed![7]
So, o'er the East the gods of Greece extend,
And Isis totters?"—"Truly, and indeed,"
Sigh'd Arthur, scandalized—"I see, with pain,
You have much to learn my monks could best explain—
"Nathless for this, and all you seek to know23
Which I, no clerk, though Christian, can relate,
Occasion meet my sojourn may bestow;—
Now, wherefore, pray you, through yon granite gate
Have you, with signs of some distress endured,
And succour sought, my wandering steps allured?"
"Pardon, but first, soul-startling stranger," said24
The slow-recovering Augur—"say if fair
The region seems to which those steps were led?
And next, the maid to whom you knelt compare
With those you leave. Are hers, in sober truth,
The charms that fix the roving heart of youth?"
"Lovelier than all on earth mine eyes have seen25
Smiles the gay marvel of this gentle realm;
Of all earth's beauty that fair maid the queen;
And, might I place her glove upon my helm,
I would proclaim that truth with lance and shield,
In tilt and tourney, sole against a field!"
"Since that be so (though what such custom means26
I rather guess than fully comprehend)
Answer again;—if right my reason gleans
From dismal harvests, and discerns the end
To which the beautiful and wise have come,
Hard are the fates beyond our Alpine home:
"What makes, without, the chief pursuit of life?"27
"War," said the Cymrian, with a mournful sigh:
"The fierce provoke, the free resist, the strife,
The daring perish and the dastard fly;
Amidst a storm we snatch our troubled breath,
And life is one grim battle-field of death."
"Then here, O stranger, find at last repose!28
Here, never smites the thunder-blast of war:
Here, all unknown the very name of foes;
Here, but with yielding earth men's contests are;
Our trophies—flower and olive, corn and wine:—
Accept a sceptre, be this kingdom thine!
"Our queen, the virgin who hath charm'd thine eyes—29
Our laws her spouse, in whom the gods shall send,
Decree; the gods have sent thee;—what the skies
Allot, receive:—Here, shall thy wanderings end,
Here thy woes cease, and life's voluptuous day
Glide, like yon river through our flowers, away."
"Kind sir," said Arthur, gratefully—"such lot30
Indeed were fair beyond what dreams display;
But earth has duties which"——"Relate them not!"
Exclaim'd the Augur—"or at least delay,
Till better known the kingdom and the bride,
Then youth, and sense, and nature, shall decide."