62 Were dangers here, great as thy love can shape, Bid trees take wings, and rooted forests fly.' 63 Then said the ranger: You are bravely lost!' (And like high anger his complexion rose.) 'As little know I fear as how to boast; But shall attend you through your many foes. 64See where in ambush mighty Oswald lay! And see, from yonder lawn he moves apace, 65 His purple banners you may there behold, Which, proudly spread, the fatal raven bear; And full five hundred I by rank have told, Who in their gilded helms his colours wear.' 66 The Duke this falling storm does now discern; 67 And Hugo soon, light as his courser's heels, Was in their faces troublesome as wind; And like to it so wingedly he wheels, No one could catch, what all with trouble find. 68 But everywhere the leaders and the led He temperately observed with a slow sight; Judged by their looks how hopes and fears were fed, 69 Their number, 'mounting to the ranger's guess, It seemed one gross with all the spaces closed. 70 The van fierce Oswald led, where Paradine And manly Dargonet, both of his blood, Outshined the noon, and their minds' stock within Promised to make that outward glory good. 71 The next, bold, but unlucky Hubert led, 72 Most to himself his valour fatal was, Whose glories oft to others dreadful were; 73 And though his valour seldom did succeed, His speech was such as could in storms persuade; Sweet as the hopes on which starved lovers feed, Breathed in the whispers of a yielding maid. 74 The bloody Borgio did conduct the rear, Whom sullen Vasco heedfully attends; And to themselves chiefly by mischief friends. 75 War, the world's art, nature to them became; Because even fame some life is to the dead. 76 Cities, wise statesmen's folds for civil sheep, They sacked, as painful shearers of the wise; 77 Hugo amongst these troops spied many more, 78 Such the bold leaders of these lancers were, Which of the Brescian veterans did consist; 79 Back to his Duke the dexterous Hugo flies, scars. 80 Lord Arnold cried, 'Vain is the bugle-horn, 81 Those beasts are hunted hard that hard can fly,' 'But we, not used to flight, know best to die; 82 Victors through number never gained applause; 1 The King, who never time nor power misspent 2 If to thy fame, brave youth, I could add wings, 3 For she is yours, as your adoption free; And in that gift my remnant life I give; 4 And richer than that crown, which shall be thine When life's long progress I have gone with fame, Take all her love; which scarce forbears to shine, And own thee, through her virgin curtain, shame.' 5 Thus spake the king; and Rhodalind appeared Through published love, with so much bashfulness, As young kings show, when by surprise o'erheard, Moaning to favourite ears a deep distress. 6 For love is a distress, and would be hid Like monarchs' griefs, by which they bashful grow; And in that shame beholders they forbid; Since those blush most, who most their blushes show. 7 And Gondibert, with dying eyes, did grieve At her vailed love, a wound he cannot heal, As great minds mourn, who cannot then relieve The virtuous, when through shame they want conceal. 8 And now cold Birtha's rosy looks decay; Who in fear's frost had like her beauty died, A while, to hear her Duke; who thus replied: 9 Victorious King! abroad your subjects are, Like legates, safe; at home like altars free! 10 A king you are o'er subjects so, as wise And noble husbands seem o'er loyal wives; And brag to strangers of their happy lives. 11 'To foes a winter storm; whilst your friends bow, Like summer trees, beneath your bounty's load; To me, next him whom your great self, with low And cheerful duty, serves, a giving God. 12 Since this is you, and Rhodalind, the light 13 Since she so precious is, I shall appear |