Canto VIII

The sun's refulgence softly dies away,
Quenched by dark shadows, as the night prevails ;
And glow-worms, mimicking the parted day,
Stars of the earth, display their fiery tails;
And now the trumpet's hoarsely thrilling bray,
Echoing a martial summons through the vales,
Calls from the stream the troops: the hostile ranks
Now from the flood retire to their own banks.

And now against the bridge, on either side,
Tents and intrenchments for defence are reared ;
Meanwhile three champions, long in battle tried,
Miceno, Manfred, and Roldan, appeared,
From following the foe, through valley wide,
And bowery wood ; returning late, they heard
Upon the banks, the spirit-stirring sound
Of arms and horses ringing all around.

And having ascertained by active spies
The various fortunes of the fight,—in doubt
They stand, debating if 'twere good and wise
To pass the enemy's lines, and issue out
To their own camp ; or ford the stream, which lies
Between, and then their soldier's strength recruit ;
At length they pass the ford and take their way
Towards the bridge, with horsemen in array.

And first, the Potta, privately advising
To move the stakes at a particular time ;
Quick with the spoils of Ferrarese disguising
The foremost file, like men in pantomime,
And skilful artifices exercising,
To make the plot in full accordance chime ;
Went on and, near enough their train to lay,
Roared in Ferrarese : " Guardai, Guardai."

The dress and dialect, at dead midnight,
The tumult and confusion that arose,
And the loud crash, deceive the sentries quite,
And thus the champions work upon their foes:
Arrived in camp, how flash with lucid light
Their swords, the clang still more tumultuous grows:
And boldly they their arduous path pursue
Where the high bridge seems bursting on the view.

There was amazement in the bivouack,
Both heart and limb subdued, fatigued, opprest ;
When by the sounds of menace and attack,
A sudden terror shivered through the breast ;
As burning lightnings fall from heaven and track
With desolation, so with bloody crest
Comes Manfred, and Voluce, in the van ;
And with the hindmost squadron brave Roldan.

Like pears, the slaughtered people drop down dead
Under the fury of their flickering steel ;
The Count Romeo, seeing how dismayed
The Bolognese before them shrink and reel ;
Calls for his nephew Ricciardo's aid,
And, where his people most destruction feel,
Runs, but the impetuous heroes check his course,
Capturing both him and nephew, man and horse.

As clouds of fiery vapour shed around
Ruin and desolation, casting forth
Lightning, and winds, and tempests that astound,
And bear uprooted trees and stones from earth ;
So the three champions kill, and maim, and wound,
And crush all opposition, such their worth;
So, the Greek conjurors are pleased to say,
The eighth heaven bears the lesser heavens away.

Meantime the Potta, previously advised,
The brave Gherardo to the bridge had sent ;
But their arrival was so quick, surprised
They found it barred and bound, without a vent;
Here Roldan's horse was killed, so highly prized,
And he himself had rued ihe dire event,
If the two others, fighting in the front,
Had not fallen back again to bear the brunt.

On this side and on that they move where'er
The hindmost squadron suffers ; there they urge
Their force and skill, and nobly persevere,
Till all their troops are on the river's verge ;
Meanwhile the brave Gherard, approaching near,
Removes the bars, and through ihe gap emerge
His own allies, whilst kept behind and under,
The enemy stretch their nostrils wide with wonder.

The grand success of this terrific fight
Fame quickly noised abroad : — the rumour known,
Frederic lamented sore, as well he might,
The sad misfortunes of his captive son :
Implored his Iriends, and cursed himself outright
For being so slow and having nothing done ;
But above all he Ezzelin implored ; — "
At that famed period Padua's tyrant lord.

As soon as haughty Ezzelino knew
The Emperor's son was captured by the foe,
He armed his people ; — to his sovereign true,
And never in his direful vengeance slow ;
He then had with him one, who by a new
Inheritance was prince, as he could show,
Of the Moréa, situate in Greece,
Whom he had lately married to his niece.

In all the East a hero more renowned
Existed not, none wiser in debate ;
Eurimedonte was the name he owned,
A name tremendous to each Orient state,
Between the Red Sea and the Euxine found ;
The task was his that son to liberate,
Intrusted thus the warrior soon was ofl',
For he had got a cold, besides, — a cough.

Twelve squadrons were embodied ; each could boast
Two hundred horsemen and a thousand foot ;
And purposely the captains of this host
Wei'e Ghibellines, and faithful men to boot.
Thou Muse! that millet-mess, and chesnut-roast,
Didst sell them, point their names and lineage out ;
Who made the lofty towers of Asinelli
Tremble from base to summit, like a jelly.

Already opened were the gates of light
By the fair mistress of Tithonus old,
And in her shift, she, beautiful and bright,
Her feet was bathing in a sea of gold ;
Her rising breast, as milk or ivory white ;
Her lucid hair, amidst the waves unrolled ;
In Thetis' mirror she her charms surveyed,
Tinting her blooming cheeks with rosier red ;

When all the squadrons issued forth to be
Reviewed, the foremost was the flag of Est ;
Which once an eagle crowned bore gallantly,
An ostrich white was afterwards impressed
Upon the tyrant's scutcheon, strikingly,
To mark his deeds tiger had been best) ;
The flower of St. Elena second follows,
A fruitful land of frogs, all fens, and hollows ;

And Castelbald, which tributary sands
Receives from the Adige; good old Savino
Cumani is the leader, and commands
The troops from Carmignan and Solesino ;
And from Deserto and Valpona's lands,
Where coast along the shores the Vicentino ;
His arms are gilt, and on his flag his seen
A sable lion on a field of green.

Schinella, and Ingolf, of lineage high,
Twins, loved by Ezzelin, their house's pride,
From the Créola, and the mountains nigh,
Conduct their people on the farther side ;
San Daniel, Baone, and peaks that lie
Along the starry heavens, all craggy, wide,
Vend, Rua, Montegrotto, Montortone,
Gazzuol, and Galzignano, and Calaone.

With these Abano in one squadron goes,
And also Montagnon ; the humid air
And climate black and smoky, some suppose
Produce a brimstone-coloured people there ;
Megera dwells there, and her dwelling glows
With lire internal, horrid in its glare ;
If Pietro then had tried his magic charms,"
He'd raised up demons at the sound of arms.

A fillet of vermilion and white
The standards of the brother counts displayed :
Mantichier di Vigonza, on their right,
Leads the third squadron, armed with bow and blade ;
Vighezzol, Catelfranco, pour in sight,
And from the Brenta's further banks arrayed,
Where winds the Tergola in gulfs and shoals,
And the impetuous Muson foams and rolls.

Camposampier, Bal, Sala, and Mirano,
Stra, Mira, Oriag', Dolo, Fiess,
Arian, Caltana, Malar, Stigliano,
And those of Bogion, in number less ;
The standard of the Cavalier Soprano
Carries the ancient family impress ;
A bar of miniver, traversed on a field
Of gold, adorned with white and grey the shield.

The fourth that passes Inghelfredo leads,
A low-born, vulgar man ; appointed first
To a vile office, for unworthy deeds ;
Elected treasurer, he, in cunning versed,
To an illustrious martial rank succeeds ;
Craft serves his turn, the foulest and the worst ;
Proud in his mien, with arrogance possessed,
He has forgotten now his beggar's nest.

Baron di Terradura he is styled ;
Through his domain the deep Battaglia Hows,
And his old halls, o'ergrown with foliage wild,
Ring to the roar of waters—he has rows
Oi lilies o'er his armour thickly piled ;
A silver grey-hound on his helmet glows ;
And him the tyrant Ezzelin has made
The honoured leader of his own brigade.

The standard of Onara and Romano,
Of Musolente; and of Cittadella,
He governs; Fontanina, and Bassano,
And arms the peasantry of Bolzanella ;
With these go the Campésans, mano mano;
Campese, not renowned for its prunella/
But, — far as distant Ireland Cataio,
For the long-honoured tomb of old Merlin Coccaio.

The Latin author of Virgilian strains,
By which Cipada equals Mantua's fame/
And mountains of Cuccagna, rivers, plains,
Eclipse even Thessaly's romantic name,
Now the Campesans, once in Lethe's chains,
From streams Castalian highest honour claim ;
And haply this rude chaunting may prolong
Their fair renown, though uninspired the song.

The fifth is Brunor Buzzaccarni, he
Conducts those of Conselve, Bovolenta,
Are, Cona, l'Anguillara, Tribane,
Those of Sarmasa, and Castel di Brenta ;
Of Pontelungo, and of Polvere,
Where lies the land of Cooks, by which is meant a
Province for its superior breed renowned ;
Their standard has a white and greenish ground.

The others follow in a martial row,
From Pieve di Sacco, and Satonara,
Montmerlo, and Santenzo, Brazolo,
Along with them in one Camponogara,
San Bruson, and Cammin, accoutred go,
Led by the son of Signor Calcinara,
Called Franco Capolista; for his shield
He bears a red deer, on a golden field.

Of and Riviera he unites
The warlike and hereditary race ;
And those of Paluello, too, invites ;
So lazy were they, with so little grace,
So slow in arming, that, inglorious wights !
The war was ended ere they showed their face ;
And hence their neighbours joke them for the aid,
And succour given, and bravery displayed !

With the seventh squadron passes Ayocasso
Capodivacca, with him Montagnana,
And Zooné leaves behind, and Monterosso,
And leads Revlon, Torreggia, and Urbana,
Maggiaino, and the province of Merlasso,
And further to the north Luvigliana,
Selvazzan, Saccolungo, Cervarese,
Praia, and all the country round Salese.

But of Téolo shines the standard bright
Above the others, from its splendid hue ;
Teolo, where first saw the blessed light
Old Titus Livius, if the tale be true.
The flag of Ayocasso was bedight
With three swords, silver ; and, in limb and thew,
He every one surpassed, a gallant show,
Looking a lofty tower in suburb low.

After Monselce comes, with blade and sack,
Either for stealing or for fighting ready ;
Under the orders of Alviero Zacch,
And those of Casale, and Roncale di ;
His flag is chequered Italian, sciacchi
With blue and white, and Gorgo and Bertedi,
And ancient Corneggiana, Montereto,
Carrara, and Collalt, and Carpineto.

Captain the ninth is Ugon Santuliana,
Who of the neigbouring towns had. special care ;
The Terranegra leads, and Brusegana,
Antenor founded his good city there ;.
Villafranca, Mortise, and Candiana,
Saint Gregory, Saint Orfala, Carter,
Le Tombelle, Villatora, and Novente,
And other towns flourished there in plenty.

And no small portion of his vassal train,
From his Pernumia, and Terralba too ;
And the fine hills of Arqua ; mountain, plain,
Seen on each side enrich the fairy view ;
Where lies the bard, in whose impassioned strain,
The laurel still retains its freshest hue ;
And where the stuffed cat, (there are few but know it)
Still guards from rats the threshold of the poet.

Apollo, spite of Time's decay, ordained
The body should continue sleek and fat;
That her renown, so gloriously obtained,
Should in a thousand songs be sung, and that
The tombs of buried kings, who nobly reigned,
Should be eclipsed by an unburied cat.
Ugon has on his mail and upper vest
A golden pard in azure field exprest.

The squadron of Vicenza was the last,
Led by Naimiero Gualdi, outwardly
The friend of Ezzelin, with whom he past
As honest-hearted, free from perfidy ;
In camp he all in wariness surpast,
Inventor of all sorts of stratagem !
But feigning to be dull, his way to grope,
He with his turnip-standard served the Pope.

He was at least a man of fifty-two,
Learned, facetious, with a shrivelled skin ;
With others ever playful, for he knew
Margutte's jokes by heart ; could gibe and grin ;
And he had with him an obstreperous crew,
With squinting eyes, and horrible as sin;
Who bearing ladders, hedge-bills, bows, and darts,
For vilest deeds seemed bom with vilest hearts.

He leads Valmaran, Arcugnan, Fimone,
Sacco, and Pilla, and Spianzan, where
Begotto sweetly, on the Bacchiglione,
The charms and tresses sings of Betia fair ;
And where the warbling flageolet of Menone,
With dear Tietta's name attunes the air ;
And Gualda, Montecchio, Olm, Cornetto,
And thirty hamlets more in that distretto.

When the last squadron passed, the cavalier
Appointed to command them, singly came
On a bay courser, spotted front and rear ;
His armour of the tint of living flame ;
A pompous plume flowed down o'er either ear;
Most splendid in his look, a knight of fame ;
Upon him all around admiring stared ;
And Greeks and Saracens composed his guard.

Whilst these are armed for vengeance in the cause
Of Frederic's captive son; as in defeat
Upon Panaro's banks both annies pause.
Each looking for the other to retreat ;
The watch and sentries keeping picket-laws,
And ancient customs, track with silent feet
The swelling banks which overtop the sti-eam,
And gaze and wait as frightened as they seem.

Mastro Pasquino, the great engineer,
Filled many butts with biscuit, some with wine,
And macaroni, body-pampering cheer,
And turned them into bastions ; these, in fine,
Insured a firm defence, and, ever near,
The soldiers stooped, to guttle, I opine;
Un a truce their watchful labours ended,
And for ten days the battle was suspended.

Behold the two ambassadors draw near!
One with a long robe, hooded to the chest ;
The other with his sword and stylish gear,
All loves and graces sumptuously drest ;
The first a college-sage, and rather sear,
Named Dottor Marescotti, from the west;
The second is a Rodi Cavaliero,
Descended from Barzellin, called Fra Piero.

They come to try their rhetoric again,
The Bucket to recover ; they had found
Ezzelin preparing' for a fierce campaign ;
That tyrant by no gentle mercies bound.
Honoured they are, and due respect maintain,
In treating now they take another ground ;
And for the Bucket they propose to bring
The barons taken — all, except the king.

The Potta comprehending their design,
Replied : " It will be better far to close
"All wrangling, and King Enzius resign ;
"And with the Bucket, I at once propose
"To give up Faenza, every Gorzanine,
"Cremona, and Ricciardo." Here he rose
And showed himself most resolutely bent
On scorning all, but this arbitrement.

The sage ambassadors had now to call
For further powers, and from the camp they sent
A courier to Bologna's Council-hall,
With sealed despatches for the Reggiment,
Meanwhile the brave Gherard and Manfred tall,
The envoys take, with courteous intent,
To see the grand intrenchment, and the show
Of mighty squadrons marshalled, ere they go.

Then to Renoppia's quarters they retire,
A queen, surrounded by her female train ;
The most distinguished for their martial fire
Of those who dared to brave the battle-plain ;
All armed, at their embroidery ; they aspire
To imitate Minerva, nor in vain ;
But now their needles throw aside, and bring
The harper Scarpinel, to play and sing.

He was a famous linguist, and he knew
In every tongue to speak extempore ;
He rhimes composed, and sung so sweetly too,
That Pharaoh's heart had, by his minstrelsy,
Been all subdued ; in front his harp he drew,
The harp which rang with perfect harmony ;
And as his fingers o'er the cat-gut ran,
Made a few ugly grins, and thus began.

Endymion, couched on balmy herbs and flowers,
Was sleeping, weary of the tedious day,
And while the breeze from heaven's immortal bowers
Was tempering summer-heat, with amorous play
The infant Loves descended, amid showers
Of roses, and with laughing roguery they
Unbound his bow and horn; him they mistook
For Cupid,—so bewitching was his look.

His lovely locks were floating loose in air,
O'er his cheeks falling in a cloud of gold ;
The little Loves were from his face so fair
Parting- the lucid threads in many a fold ;
And with the flowers that they had gathered there,
Twisted, and into various garlands rolled,
Adorned his forehead, and his gentle feet,
And made him anklets, and a necklace sweet.

And oft compared his amorous smiling mouth
With peony and red anemone ;
And the soft cheeks of the enchanting youth
With rose and lily — lovelier still was he !
The winds and waters, the mild whispering south,
All, all are lulled in silent harmony ;
Air, water, earth, a balmy stillness keeping,
Seem murmuring tranquilly, " Behold Love sleeping."

As in the heavens where Taurus feels the heat
Shed by the luminous stars, above, around,
The daughters of old Atlas sparkling meet,
Their tresses glittering through the blue profound ;
The eldest the most gentle, and discreet,
Shines above all — for beauty most renowned ;
So midst the Loves Endymion appears,
Immersed in flowers and herbs, begemmed with dewy tears.

When the bright goddess of the lunar sphere,
Warmed by the rays of the departed sun,
Removed the veil to show the world more clear,
The prospect looked all silent, calm, and lone,
And scattering o"er the violets peeping near
Refreshing dew from her celestial zone,
Glanced haply on that mead, and unattended,
'I'd see what might befall, from heaven descended.

At her approach the Loves, all terrified,
Soon disappeared, and when the goddess bright
Saw the lone youth thus sleeping on his side,
She stopped — and gazed at him — a beauteous sight !
Restrained by virgin modesty and pride,
She timid stood, and blushed in her own light ;
And had already turned her steps away,
But charmed drew back to where the shepherd lay.

Through her moist eyes she felt an ardent fire
Pass to her heart, and all her soul on flame ;
By gradual soft advances, fond desire
Placed her close to the boy—subdued her shame ;
And with those flowrets, Flora's rich attire,
With which the Loves had played their innocent game,
She crowned herself — adorned her snowy breast,
But found them poison, fatal to her rest.

The flowers attract her hand—the hand again
Encouraged, — she his cheeks, and lips, and eyes,
Kisses, and fondly clasps him with a strain
So vivid, that he wakens with surprise ;
The splendours of her face divine enchain
His senses, and he trembles ; — he would rise,
With reverence to salute that heavenly guest,
But she enfolds him closer to her breast.

"Sleepy and beautiful soul!" she ardent said:
"Why tremblest, gazest thou'' The Moon am I,
"By love, and fate, and fortune, hither led,
"To sleep with thee, on this sweet bank to lie ;
"Be not disturbed, still press this balmy bed
"In bland repose, and, under the dark sky
"The ardour I express to thee Conceal,
"Or heaven's dire anger thou wilt surely feel.

"Eye of the world on which Apollo's light
"Is thrown, I am a humble shepherd-boy ;
"But by your favour, should you deem it right,
"In other spheres my service to employ,
"Be certain of my love, my faith I plight,
"And take this veil, a former pledge of joy ;
"Given by my father Æthlius to my mother,
"Calyce — never breathed there such another."

So saying, he a gauzy veil displayed,
Adorned with pearls and lilies — it was long,
Covering the back and chest, and, overlaid
From right to left, in folds pictorial hung ;
This he enamoured gave, no more afraid,
Terror no longer to his fibres clung ;
And, as a flower when languid, frozen, pale,
So he into her arms impassioned fell.

With not more strict embrace the twisting vine
Clings round the branchy elm, nor ivy green
With more affection clasps the shady pine,
Tenacious ever, ever faithful seen,
Than the two lovers, mortal and divine,
Full of endearing kindness, soul and mien ;
Throbbed their wild hearts in unison and joy,
The lunar goddess, and the shepherd-boy.

Thus amidst kisses and impassioned sighs,
Looks, glances, and delicious languishment,
The lovers feel love's soul-delighting ties,
In chaste communion, joyous and content;
The raptured goddess raised her tearful eyes,
Accused the stars, and every element,
Because her fate had been to hunt in grove
And forest, beasts,—unknown to him and love.

"Unhappy me!" she said, " how sad the day
"When I became a huntress of the plain;
"How many fruitless years have rolled away,
"Years, never, never to return again.
"O erring steps, that led me thus astray,
"How have I cast them to the winds in vain;
"All ! better had it been, how sweeter far,
"To live in love, than seek the panther's lair.

"My error now I know—but where's the cure!
"Alas ! not iu my power — for heaven denies
"The boon, and what is willed I must endure,
"But for the future I shall be more wise ;
"Therefore, Air, Earth, and Ocean! I conjure
"Ye to attend to what I now advise ;
"The law I now pronounce, fixed in my mind,
"Shall last while the sun lasts, to influence womankind.

"I do enact : The Orb, by destiny mine,
"Shall never hide a lovely face again,
' (Except some few whom I esteem divine,
"Greater than me and all the starry train)
"Who shall neglecting Love's inspiring shrine,
"Through life a rebel to his power remain ;
"Yes, all who keep untouched by that soft flame,
"Unless on mere pretence, and but in name."

The old blind harper wishing now to show
How sad the goddess to her sphere departed,
Renoppia looked at him with scowling brow,
And with a threatening voice his object thwarted.
"Go ! blind in eyes and mind, I tell thee go !
"Thou ugly wretch !" she said, " and evil-hearted !
"Go ! sing to harlots, with such chuckling glee,
"These shameful legends are not fit for me.

"If thou wouldst have me listen to thy song,
"And merit access to my house again,
"Sing of Zenobia, glorious, fair, and young,
"Or of Lucretia, — touch thr.t noble strain."
The harper paused, half angry — but ere long
Struck up a warlike tone, applause to again ;
And sung the love of Sextus, and his crime,
Commencing boldly in the octave rhime.

Tarquin the Proud, the Roman emperor,
Had near the royal halls of Turnus brought
His camp, where horse and foot, full many a corps,
Oxen and slaves, surrounded trench and moat ;
All his brave sons were there, and, furthermore,
In feasts and banquettings their pleasure sought;
So hard they drank that on St. Martin's day,
Seven of them swilled a cask of wine, they say.

Finished the wine, there rose an altercation
Among them, who the truest wife possessed ;
Ajid each being eloquent in vindication
Of his own partner, thinking her the best ;
To put an end to this strange disputation
They all agreed, upon a certain test,
At once to start post haste, devour the way,
And ascertain the fact without delay.

Stirrups nor saddles then were used, nor known,
And those wild lords, the grape juice in their brain,
Guided by the dim stars roved boldly on,
Nor feared the forest might their course restrain ;
Some lost their sacks, some slippers, some being thrown
Midst thorns and brambles rent their cloaks in twain ;
In various ways the fumes of wine went off,
And some arrived with hiccups, some a cough.

With them Tarquinius Collatinus went,
Whose wife, Lucretia, at Collatia stayed ;
Not their true brother, but the same descent, —
A cousin, who their cognomen displayed ;
They all reached Rome, on Iheir adventure bent,
And found their wives amidst a vast parade
Of feasting, dancing ; giggling one and all,
And frisky as the devil at a ball.

In a Moresca then they beat the ground,
And footed it with an accomplished air ;
And, having roasted ducks and capons found,
Took off two baskets to Collatia, where
They soon arrived ; — the gates and windows round
The house were well secured with bolt and bar ;
And several times they knocked, in that dark night,
Before they heard a voice, or saw a light.

An hour elapsed, and then a slave was seen
Upon the balcony, with listening ear,
Peeping out like a lizard, sharp and lean,
She cried: "Who knocks? My master is not here!"
"Yes! yes! he is!" then answered
"Come down, and you shall see him, never fear." Collatine,
Their master's voice the servants quickly knew,
And to unbolt the doors obsequious flew.

Lucretia met him in the hall o'erjoyed,
The distaff in her hand, no servant nigh ;
When hastening to embrace him, she descried
So many signors in his company,
Her rock of flax she vainly strove to hide,
And blushing showed those tints that beautify —
The full-blown rose, so exquisite and winning,
And called her maidens, then employed in spinning.

At once the royal brothers now decreed
To her the palm, as worthiest and the best ;
All night they slept there, and next morn with speed
Returned, their wild adventure to digest ;
But beauty, such as nothing could exceed,
And words that charm, inflamed the wicked breast
Of the proud Sextus, Tarquin's younger son ;
For chaste Lucretia his base heart had won.

The fifth day alter he turned back again,
And ventured to Collatia alone ;
Arriving there as eve assumed her reign,
He said, " I'll sleep here !" so familiar grown !
The spotless wife not dreaming of the train
Of plotted miseries, made the house his own ;
At night the traitor, not disposed to rest,
Stole like a monster to her room undrest.

Down fell the door, half broken; he rushed in,
Grasping a dagger ; — on an osier bed,
A poor old woman raised a horrid din,
As if bewitched ; on this account he made
Her jump out of the window, lose or win,
And to Lucretia in a flurry said,
she had raised as clamorous a note)
"Do pray, be quiet, or I'll cut your throat!"

At this the sweet Renoppia, bending down
With elegance and grace, unloosed her shoe ;
But the blind harper seeing by her frown
The tempest coming, cunningly withdrew ;
The lords laughed heartily when he had gone,
And rising up, with ceremony due
She thanked them for their kindness o'er and o'er,
And lady-like then saw them to the door.