LXXIII
So spake the holy emperor aloud,
In humbleness of heart and deep contrition;
And added other prayers withal, and vowed
What fitted his great needs and high condition.
Now was his supplication disallowed;
For his good genius hears the king's petition,
Best of the seraphs he; who spreads his wings,
And to the Saviour's feet this offering brings.
LXXIV
Infinite other prayers as well preferred,
Were, by like couriers, to the Godhead's ear
So borne; which when the blessed spirits heard,
They all together gazed, with pitying cheer,
On their eternal, loving Lord, and, stirred
With one desire, besought that he would hear
The just petition, to his ears conveyed,
Of this his Christian people, seeking aid.
LXXV
And the ineffable Goodness, who in vain
Was never sought by faithful heart, an eye,
Full of compassion, raised; and from the train
Waved Michael, and to the arch-angel: "Hie,
To seek the Christian host that crost the main,
And lately furled their sails in Picardy:
These so conduct to Paris, that their tramp
And noise be heard not in the hostile camp.
LXXVI
"Find Silence first, and bid him, on my part,
On this emprize attend thee, at thy side:
Since he for such a quest, with happiest art
Will know what is most fitting to provide.
Next, where she sojourns, instantly impart
To Discord my command, that she, supplied
With steel and tinder, 'mid the paynims go,
And fire and flame in their encampment blow;
LXXVII
"And throughout those among them, who are said
To be the mightiest, spread such strife, that they
Together may contend, and that some dead
Remain, some hurt, some taken in the fray;
And some to leave the camp, by wrath, be led;
So that they yield their sovereign little stay."
Nothing the blessed winged-one replies,
But swoops descending from the starry skies.
LXXVIII
Where'er the angel Michael turns his wing,
The clouds are scattered and the sky turns bright;
About his person forms a golden ring,
As we see summer lightning gleam at night.
This while the courier of the heavenly king
Thinks, on his way, where he may best alight,
With the intent to find that foe to speech,
To whom he first his high behest would teach.
LXXIX
Upon the thought the posting angel brooded,
Where he, for whom he sought was used to dwell,
Who after thinking much, at last concluded
Him he should find in church or convent cell;
Where social speech is in such mode excluded,
That SILENCE, where the cloistered brethren swell
Their anthems, where they sleep, and where they sit
At meat; and everywhere in fine is writ.
LXXX
Weening that he shall find him here, he plies
With greater speed his plumes of gilded scale,
And deems as well that Peace, here guested, lies,
And Charity and Quiet, without fail.
But finds he is deceived in his surmise,
As soon as he has past the cloister's pale.
Here Silence is not; nor ('tis said) is found
Longer, except in writing, on this ground.
LXXXI
Nor here he Love, nor here he Peace surveys,
Piety, Quiet, or Humility.
Here dwelt they once; but 'twas in ancient days;
Chased hence by Avarice, Anger, Gluttony,
Pride, Envy, Sloth, and Cruelty. In amaze
The angel mused upon such novelty:
He narrowly the hideous squadron eyed,
And Discord too amid the rest espied;
LXXXII
Even her, to whom the eternal Sire as well,
Having found Silence, bade him to repair.
He had believed he to Avernus' cell,
Where she was harboured with the damned, must fare,
And now discerned her in this other hell
(Who would believe it?) amid mass and prayer.
Strange Michael thought to see her there enshrined,
Whom he believed he must go far to find.