Canto IX

Fixed on the borders of Idalia’s coast,
Where sister realms! their kindred limits boast,
An ancient dome superior awe commands,
Whose strong foundations rose from nature’s hands :
But labor since has polished every part,
And nature yielded to the toils of art.
Each circling plain the verdant myrtles crown,
Unknown to winter’s desolating frown.
Pomona here her fruits profusely pours;
Here Flora sheds her variegated flowers.
Here, whilst spontaneous harvests fill the plains,
No season changes, and no wretch complains.
Here peace unfading soothes the sons of earth,
Such peace as reigned at nature’s earlier birth.
With hand of soft indulgence she displays
Celestial quiet, and serenest days.
Here every lawn in plenty’s robe is dressed,
With every sweet but innocency blessed.
From side to side the streams of music roll,
Whose soothing softness fascinates the soul.
In plaintive sonnets burns the lover’s, flame
Who boasts his weakness, and exults in shame.
Each day, encircled with the fragrant store,
The little godhead’s smiles their prayers implore;
Eager they press to learn the poisonous art
At once to please and to enter the heart.
Delusive hope, whose charms serenely shine,
Conducts the train to love’s enchanting shrine.
The beauteous graces half-unveiled advance,
Indulge the song, and join the decent dance.
Voluptuous pleasure on the velvet plain
In calm tranquillity attends the. strain.
Lo! by her side the heart-enchaining sighs
Fixed silence strongly speaking to the eyes;
The amorous transports, and the soft desires,
Which fan the bosom to, the. fiercest fires.

Thus smiles the alluring entrance of the dome:
What scenes of horror round. the altar roll,
And shake the libertine’s presuming soul!
No sounds harmonious feast the ravished ears,
No more the lovely train of joys appears.
Conscious imprudence, murmurs, fears, and hate
With darkness blast, the splendors of the state.
Stern jealousy, whose faltering step obeys
Each fell suspicion that her bliss betrays;
Ungoverned rage, with sharpest venom stored,
Rears, in. the van his unrelenting sword.
These malice joins, who with perfidious face
Smiles at the triumphs of the savage race.
Pensive repentance, shuddering in the rear,
Heaves the deep groan, and showers the plenteous tear.

Full in the centre of this horrid court,
Where pleasure’s fell companions all resort,
Love waves forever his fantastic rod,
At once a cruel, and a tender god.
His infant power the fates of mortals bears,
With wanton smiles dispensing peace, and wars.
Smooth flows deceit’s insinuating art
Which lifts the captive, animated heart.
He counts his triumphs from the splendid throne
While prostrate sons of pride the conqueror own.
Careless of good he plies his savage skill,
And dwells applauding on each deed of ill.

Now Discord opens through the ranks of joy
Her vengeful passage to the kindred boy.
Fierce in her hand the brandished torches glow,
Her eyeballs flash, and blood distains her brow.
“Where then,” she cries, “thy formidable darts!
Recline they pointed for more stubborn hearts?
If e’er my venom, mingled with thy fire,
Has fanned the flame, and raised the passion higher,
If oft for thee I trouble nature’s laws,
Rise, fly to vengeance of my injured cause.
Crushed by a victor king my snakes are laid,
Who joins the olive to the laurel’s shade.
Amid the tumults of a civil war
Meek-stepping Clemency attends his car;
Fixed to the standards, waving in the wind,
She soothes in Discord’s spite the rebel mind.
One victory gained, my throne, my empire falls;
Lo! Henry showers his rage on Paris’ walls.
He flies to fight, to conquer, and forgive ;
Fast bound in brazen chains must Discord live.
’Tis thine to check the torrent of his course,
And drop soft poison on his valor’s source.
Yes, bend the victim to thy conquering dart,
And quell each virtue of his stubborn heart.
Of old (and well thou knowest) thy sovereign care
Bowed great Alcides to the imperial fair.
By thee proud Antony’s enervated mind
For Cleopatra’s form each thought resigned ;
In flight inglorious o’er the ocean hurled
For her he quits the empire of the world.
Henry alone resists thy dread command,
Go, blast the laurels in his daring hand.
His brows entwine with myrtle’s amorous charms,
And sink the slumbering warrior in thy arms.
Fly to support; he shakes my tottering throne:
Go, shield an empire, and a cause thine own.”

The monster spoke: the trembling roof around
Returns the horrors of the dreadful sound.
Stretched. on his flowery couch, the listening god
With artful smiles consented at her nod.
Armed with his golden darts resolved he flies
Clearing the azure brightness of the skies.
With pleasures, sports, and graces in his train
The zephyrs bear him to the Gallic plain.

Straight he discovers with malicious joy
The feeble Simois and the fields of Troy ;
And laughs, reflecting in those seats renowned
O’er many a palace mouldering on the ground.
Venice from far, fair city! strikes his sight,
The prodigy of earth, and art’s delight;
Which towers supreme as ocean’s godhead gave
Her powerful empire o’er the encircling wave.
Sicilia’s plain his rapid flight retards,
Where his own genius nursed the pastoral bards.
Where fame reports through secret paths he led
The wandering waves from amorous Alpheus’ bed.
Now quitting Arethusa’s lovely shore
Swift to Vauclusia’s seats his course he bore;
Asylum soft in life’s serener days
Where lovesick Petrarch sighed his pensive lays.
From there his, eyes survey the favorite strand
Where Anet’s walls uprose at his command:
Where art’s rich toils superior reverence claim,
And still beams; forth Diana’s ciphered name.
There on her tomb the joys, and graces shower
In grateful. memory each fragrant flower.

Now to the wanderer Ivry’s plain appears:
The monarch, ready for severer cares,
There first. with softer pleasures soothes his breast,
And. lulls his thunders to a transient rest.
Around his side the warrior youth displayed
Pursue the labors of the sylvan shade.
The godhead triumphs in his future pain,
Sharpens his arrows, and prepares his chain,
The winds, which erst he smoothed, his nod alarms;
He speaks, and sets the elements in arms.
From every side he calls the furious storms ;
A weight of clouds the face of heaven deforms.
The impetuous torrent rushes from the sky;
The thunder rolls, the livid lightnings fly :
Each boisterous brother at his mandate springs
And earth lies shadowed with their murky wings.
Bright Phoebus sinks with night’s incumbent load,
And, conscious nature shudders at the god.

O’er the dark plains through miry, dubious ways
Alone, and comfortless the monarch strays:
When watchful love displays the torch’s light,
Whose twinkling radiance strikes upon his sight.
The hostile star, with fatal joy betrayed,
He swiftly follows through the dreary shade.
Such fatal joy deluded wanderers show,
Led by the vapor’s transitory glow ;
The guide malignant through the midnight gloom
Quits not the wretch, but leads him to his doom.
Once in the horrors of this lone retreat
Roamed-a fair virgin’s solitary feet.
Silent, the centre of the fort within,
She waits her father from the battle’s din;
Loyal in council, veteran in the plain,
Who.-shone the foremost of his sovereign’s train:
D’Estrées her name, and nature’s guardian care
Had showered her treasures to adorn the fair.
Beauty less fair the Grecian maid possessed,
Whose guilt betrayed her Menelaus’ rest.
With charms inferior Cleopatra glowed,
Whose eyes the lord of Italy subdued,
While to the shore the enamored Cydnians move,
And incense shed as to the queen of love.

The nymph was now at that unsteady age
When headstrong passions all the mind engage.
No lovers yet their sighing vows impart,
Though formed for love, yet generous was her heart.
Thus the fair beauties of the blushing rose
Coy in the spring to wanton zephyr close:
But the full lustre of their stores display
To the kind influence of a summer’s day.

Cupid, preparing to ensnare the maid,
Slyly approaches in disguise arrayed.
No dart, no torch his chubby hands employ,
In voice, and figure as an artless boy.
“From yonder stream to this enchanting dome
The hapless Mayenne’s tremendous conqueror come.”
Full through her soul the soft infection ran;
She feign would captivate the godlike man.
A livelier bloom her graceful features prove,
Which crowns the triumphs of applauding love.
What could he doubt? with charms celestial spread
The attractive virgin to the king he led.
With double glow each ornament of art
In nature’s guise enslaves the enamored heart.
Her golden tresses floating in the air
Now kiss the rising bosom of the fair;
Now start to view the heavenly sweets displayed
By native innocence more lovely made.
No stern, no gloomy frown, which puts to flight
Each thought of love, of beauty, and delight;
But the mild softness of a decent shame
The cheek just tipping with the purest flame:
Commanding reverence, which excites desires,
And sheds when conquered love’s increasing fires.

Now the arch god with each enchanting grace
Diffused resistless beauties o’er the place.
The plenteous myrtle with spontaneous birth
Springs from the bosom of the liberal earth.
Its amorous foliage decorates the glade,
And woos the thoughtless to its fatal shade.
Till hands unseen the entangled step betray ;
Fear bids depart, but pleasure bids them stay.

Soft through the shade a soothing Lethe rolls,
Where happy lovers with inebriate souls
Quaff long oblivion to departed fame;
So unresisted love’s all-conquering flame!
How changed the scene! here every bosom glows;
Poured from each sweet the entrancing nectar flows.
Love sounds throughout around, the feathered choir
Indulge the song and burn with mutual fire.
The hind arising ere the dawn of day
To Ceres’ golden treasures bends his way;
Now stops aghast : now heaves the plaintive sighs,
And feels the new born passion with surprise.
He dwells delighted on the scenes of love:
While heedless of her flock the maiden stands,
And drops the spindle from her faltering hands.
Could fair d’Estrées resist the magic charm?
What power can guard ’gainst love’s prevailing arm.
Overcome by youth, a hero and the god
She yields her virgin bosom to their nod.
Meanwhile the king with dauntless soul prepares
In thought to mingle with the battle’s cares.
Some subtle demon plies his secret art,
And free-born virtue sighing quits the heart.
To softer scenes his amorous soul betrayed
Sees, hears, and loves alone the heavenly maid,
But now the chieftains of the embattled band
With ardent vows their absent king demand;
They shuddered for his life, but little knew
Their fears were only to his glory due:
Immersed in grief the soldier’s conquering pride
Sinks to despair, no Henry for their guide.
Thy guardian power, O France, no longer stays
To grant continuance of the soft delays:
At Louis’ nod descending from the skies
Swift to the succor of his son he flies.
Alighting now o’er earth’s extended round
He seeks a mind for wisdom’s stores renowned,
Not where pale, hungry, speechless students claim
Fixed in a midnight gloom her sacred name,
But in fair Ivry, midst the din of arms,
Where the flushed warriors glow with conquest’s charms. .
At length the genius stays his ardent flight,
Where Calvin’s floating banners spread to sight.
There Mornay he addressed ; when reason leads,
Her solid influence consecrates our deeds.
As o’er the heathen world she poured her ray,
Whose virtues Christians blushing might survey,
Reason Aurelius’ sentiments refined,
And showered ideas over Plato’s mind.

Severe, but friendly Mornay knew the art
At once to mend, and captivate the heart.
His deeds more reverence than his doctrines move,
Each virtue met his fond, parental love.
Full steeled to pleasure, covetous of toils
He looked on dangers with undaunted smiles.
No poisonous frauds of palaces control
His nobly-stubborn purity of soul.
Thus, Arethusa’s genial waters flow
Soft tothe; bosom of the deep, below,
A crystal pure, unconscious of a stain,
Spite of the billows of the foaming main.

The generous. Mornay by the goddess led
Haste to the seats, where rapturous pleasure shed
Her soothing opiate on the victor’s breast,
And lulled awhile the fates of France to rest.
Triumphant love each lavish charm employs,
To blast his glory with redoubled joys.
A waste of transports fill the round of day,
Transports which fly too swiftly to decay.
To vengeance fired the little god descried
Mornay with heaven-born wisdom for his guide.
Full at the warrior-chief he points his dart
To lull his senses, and enthrall his heart.
Thick fall the blunted shafts, Mornay awaits
Sacred to silent ease where myrtles bloom,
D’Estrées on Henry lavished all her charms,
Melting he glowed, and languished in her arms.
No cooling change their blissful moments know,
Soft from, their eyes the tears of rapture flow;
Tears, which redouble every fond delight,
And heayenly feelings of the soul excite;
Flushed with the full-blown rage of keen desires,
Which love alone can paint, for, love alone inspires.

The wanton youth unfolds the hero’s vest,
While smiling pleasures fan his soul to rest.
One holds, the cuirass reeking from the plain,
One grasps the sword, yet never worn in vain;
And laughs, while poising in his hand he, shows
The bulwark of the throne, and terror of its foes.

From Discord’s voice the strains of insult roll,
Each cruel transport brooding in her soul,
With active fury at the favoring hour
To rouse the serpent of confederate power.
While Henry riots in the soft repose,
She wakes to vengeance his relentless foes.
Now in the fragrant gardens of delight
Mornay appears: he blushes at the sight
Their startled bosoms mutual fears engage,
And a dead silence chains the approaching sage.
But looks in silence bowed to earth impart
A powerful language to the sovereign’s heart;
And sadness lowering in the clouded face
Proclaims at once his weakness, and disgrace.
Ill had another taken Mornay’s care,
Love from the guilty few, accusers share.
“Fear not,” he cries, “our anger; rest at ease;
Who points my error cannot fail to please:
Worthy of thee our bosom shall remain;
’Tis well: and Henry is himself again.
Love now resigns that virtue he betrayed:
Fly, let us quit this soft, inglorious shade.
Yes, quit the scenes, where my rebellious flame
Would fondling still the silken fetters frame.
Self-conquest surely boasts the noblest charms,
We'll brave the power of love in glory’s arms ;
Scatter destruction o’er the extended shore,
And sheathe our error in the Spaniard’s gore.
These generous words the sage’s soul inspire:
“Yes, now my sovereign beams with native fire.
Each rebel passion feels thy conquering reins,
O great protector of thy country’s plains.
Love adds fresh lustre to the blaze of fame,
For triumphs there superior greatness claim.”
He said; the monarch hastens to depart,
But oh! what sorrows load his amorous heart !
Still, as he flies, he cannot but adore,
His tears he censures, yet he weeps the more.
Forced by the sage, attracted by the fair,
He flies, returns, and quits her in despair.
D’Estrées unable to sustain the strife
Falls prostrate robbed of color, as of life.
A sudden night invades her beauteous eyes ;
Love who perceived it, sent forth dreadful cries.
Pierced to the soul, lest death’s eternal shade
Should rob his empire of the lovely maid:
Should spoil the lustre of so fair a frame,
Destined through France to spread the genial flame.
Wrapt in his arms, again her eyelids move,
And gently open to the voice of love.
The king she names, the king demands in vain,
Now looks, now closes her bright eyes again.
Love bathed in sorrow for the suffering fair
Recalled her sinking spirit by his prayer;
With flattering hopes her solaced soul betrayed,
And soothed those evils which himself had made.

Mornay of steady, and relentless mind,
Led on the monarch still but half resigned.
Firm force and godlike virtue point the way,
While glory’s hands the laurel wreath display ;
Flies far from Anet to conceal his shame.