The Sonnets, Triumphs, and Other Poems of Petrarch Part 98

Alike his future victims and the past Shall own the common tie, while time itself shall last.

But tell me (if your guide allow a s.p.a.ce The semblance of those tendant shades to trace) The names and fortunes of the following pair Who seem the n.o.blest gifts of mind to share."-- "My name," he said, "you seem to know so well That faithful Memory all the rest can tell; But as the sad detail may soothe my woes, Listen, while I my mournful doom disclose:-- To Rome and Scipio's cause my faith was bound, E'en Laelius scarce a warmer friends.h.i.+p own'd: Where'er their ensigns fann'd the summer sky, I led my Libyans on, a firm ally; Propitious Fortune still advanced his name, Yet more than she bestow'd, his worth might claim.

Still we advanced, and still our glory grew While westward far the Roman eagle flew With conquest wing'd; but my unlucky star Led me, unconscious, to the fatal snare Which Love had laid. I saw the regal dame-- Our hearts at once confess'd a mutual flame.

Caught by the lure of interdicted joys, Proudly I scorn'd the stern forbidding voice Of Roman policy; and hoped the vows At Hymen's altar sworn, might save my spouse.

But, oh! that wondrous man, who ne'er would yield To pa.s.sion's call, the cruel sentence seal'd, That tore my consort from my fond embrace, And left me sunk in anguish and disgrace.

Unmoved he saw my briny sorrows flow, Unmoved he listen'd to my tale of woe!

But friends.h.i.+p, waked at last, with reverent awe, Obsequious, own'd his mind's superior law; And to that holy and unclouded light, That led him on through pa.s.sion's dubious night, Submiss I bow'd; for, oh! the beam of day Is dark to him that wants her guiding ray!-- Love, hardly conquer'd, long repined in vain, When Justice link'd the adamantine chain; And cruel Friends.h.i.+p o'er the conquer'd ground Raised with strong hand th' insuperable mound.

To him I owed my laurels n.o.bly won-- I loved him as a brother, sire, and son, For in an equal race our lives had run; Yet the sad price I paid with burning tears;-- Dire was the cause that woke my gloomy fears!

Too well the sad result my soul divined, Too well I knew the unsubmitting mind Of Sophonisba would prefer the tomb To stern captivity's ign.o.ble doom.

I, too, sad victim of celestial wrath, Was forced to aid the tardy stroke of death: With pangs I yielded to her piercing cries, To speed her pa.s.sage to the nether skies; And worse than death endured, her mind to save From shame, more hateful than the yawning grave.-- What was my anguish, when she seized the bowl, She knows! and you, whose sympathising soul Has felt the fiery shaft, may guess my pains-- Now tears and anguish are her sole remains.

That treasure, to preserve my faith to Rome, Those hands committed to th' untimely tomb; And every hope and joy of life resign'd To keep the stain of falsehood from my mind.

But hasten, and the moving pomp survey, (The light-wing'd moments brook no long delay), To try if any form your notice claims Among those love-lorn youths and amorous dames."-- With poignant grief I heard his tale of woe, That seem'd to melt my heart like vernal snow, When a low voice these sullen accents sung:-- "Not for himself, but those from whom he sprung, He merits fate; for I detest them all To whose fell rage I owe my country's fall."

"Oh, calm your rage, unhappy Queen!" I cried; "Twice was the land and sea in slaughter dyed By cruel Carthage, till the sentence pa.s.s'd That laid her glories in the dust at last."-- "Yet mournful wreaths no less the victors crown'd; In deep despair our valour oft they own'd.

Your own impartial annals yet proclaim The Punic glory and the Roman shame."

She spoke--and with a smile of hostile spite Join'd the deep train, and darken'd to my sight.

Then, as a traveller through lands unknown With care and keen observance journeys on; Whose dubious thoughts his eager steps r.e.t.a.r.d, Thus through the files I pa.s.s'd with fix'd regard; Still singling some amid the moving show, Intent the story of their loves to know.

A spectre now within my notice came, Though dubious marks of joy, commix'd with shame, His features wore, like one who gains a boon With secret glee, which shame forbids to own, O dire example of the Demon's power!

The father leaves the hymeneal bower For his incestuous son; the guilty spouse With transport mix'd with honour, meets his vows!

In mournful converse now, amidst the host, Their compact they bewail'd, and Syria lost!

Instant, with eager step, I turn'd aside, And met the double husband, and the bride, And with an earnest voice the first address'd:-- A look of dread the spectre's face express'd, When first the accents of victorious Rome Brought to his mind his kingdom's ancient doom.

At length, with many a doleful sigh, he said, "You here behold Seleucus' royal shade.

Antiochus is next; his life to save, My ready hand my beauteous consort gave, (From me, whose will was law, a legal prize,) That bound our souls in everlasting ties Indissolubly strong. The royal fair Forsook a throne to cure the deep despair Of him, who would have dared the stroke of Death, To keep, without a stain, his filial faith.

A skilful leech the deadly symptoms guess'd; His throbbing veins the secret soon confess'd Of Love with honour match'd, in dire debate, Whenever he beheld my lovely mate; Else gentle Love, subdued by filial dread, Had sent him down among th' untimely dead."-- Then, like a man that feels a sudden thought His purpose change, the mingling crowd he sought, And left the question, which a moment hung Scarce half suppress'd upon my faltering tongue.

Suspended for a moment, still I stood, With various thoughts oppress'd in musing mood.

At length a voice was heard, "The pa.s.sing day Is yours, but it permits not long delay."-- I turn'd in haste, and saw a fleeting train Outnumbering those who pa.s.s'd the surging main By Xerxes led--a naked wailing crew, Whose wretched plight the drops of sorrow drew From my full eyes.--Of many a clime and tongue Commix'd the mournful pageant moved along While scarce the fortunes or the name of one Among a thousand pa.s.sing forms was known.

I spied that Ethiopian's dusky charms, Which woke in Perseus' bosom Love's alarms; And next was he who for a shadow burn'd, Which the deceitful watery gla.s.s return'd; Enamour'd of himself, in sad decay-- Amid abundance, poor--he look'd his life away; And now transform'd through pa.s.sion's baneful power, He o'er the margin hangs, a drooping flower; While, by her hopeless love congeal'd to stone, His mistress seems to look in silence on; Then he that loved, by too severe a fate, The cruel maid who met his love with hate, Pa.s.s'd by; with many more who met their doom By female pride, and fill'd an early tomb.-- There too, the victim of her plighted vows, Halcyone for ever mourns her spouse; Who now, in feathers clad, as poets feign, Makes a short summer on the wintry main.-- Then he that to the cliffs the maid pursued, And seem'd by turns to soar, and swim the flood;-- And she, who, snared by Love, her father sold, With her, who fondly snared the rolling gold; And her young paramour, who made his boast That he had gain'd the prize his rival lost.-- Acis and Galatea next were seen, And Polyphemus with infuriate mien;-- And Glaucus there, by rival arts a.s.sail'd, Fell Circe's hate and Scylla's doom bewail'd.-- Then sad Carmenta, with her royal lord, Whom the fell sorceress clad, by arts abhorr'd, With plumes; but still the regal stamp impress'd On his imperial wings and lofty crest.-- Then she, whose tears the springing fount supplied;-- And she whose form above the rolling tide Hangs a portentous cliff--the royal fair, Who wrote the dictates of her last despair To him whose s.h.i.+ps had left the friendly strand.

With the keen steel in her determined hand.-- There, too, Pygmalion, with his new-made spouse, With many more, I spied, whose amorous vows And fates in never-dying song resound Where Aganippe laves the sacred ground:-- And, last of all, I saw the lovely maid Of Love unconscious, by an oath betray'd.

BOYD.

PART III.

Like one by wonder reft of speech, I stood Pond'ring the mournful scene in pensive mood, As one that waits advice. My guide in haste Began:--"You let the moments run to waste What objects hold you here?--my doom you know; Compell'd to wander with the sons of woe!"-- "Oh, yet awhile afford your friendly aid!

You see my inmost soul;" submiss I said.

"The strong unsated wish you there can read; The restless cravings of my mind to feed With tidings of the dead."--In gentler tone He said, "Your longings in your looks are known; You wish to learn the names of those behind Who through the vale in long procession wind: I grant your prayer, if fate allows a s.p.a.ce,"

He said, "their fortunes, as they come, to trace.-- See that majestic shade that moves along, And claims obeisance from the ghostly throng: 'Tis Pompey; with the partner of his vows, Who mourns the fortunes of her slaughter'd spouse, By Egypt's servile band.--The next is he Whom Love's tyrannic spell forbade to see The danger by his cruel consort plann'd; Till Fate surprised him by her treacherous hand.-- Let constancy and truth exalt the name Of her, the lovely candidate for fame, Who saved her spouse!--Then Pyramus is seen, And Thisbe, through the shade, with pensive mien;-- Then Hero with Leander moves along,-- And great Ulysses, towering in the throng: His visage wears the signs of anxious thought There sad Penelope laments her lot: With trickling tears she seems to chide his stay, While fond Calypso charms her love-delay.-- Next he who braved in many a b.l.o.o.d.y fight.

For years on years, the whole collected might Of Rome, but sunk at length in Cupid's snare The shameful victim of th' Apulian fair!-- Then she, that, in a servile dress pursued, (Reft of her golden locks) o'er field and flood, With peerless faith, her exiled spouse unknown, With whom of old she fill'd a lofty throne.-- Then Portia comes, who fire and steel defied, And Julia, grieved to see a second bride Engage her consort's love.--The Hebrew swain Appears, who sold himself his love to gain For seven long summers--a vivacious flame, Which neither years nor constant toil could tame!-- Then Isaac, with his father, joins the band, Who, with his consort, left at G.o.d's command, Led by the lamp of faith, his native land.-- David is next, by lawless pa.s.sion sway'd; And, adding crime to crime, at last betray'd To deeds of blood, till solitude and tears Wash'd his dire guilt away, and calm'd his fears.

The sensual vapour, with Circean fume, Involved his royal son in deeper gloom, And dimm'd his glory, till, immersed in vice, His heart renounced the Ruler of the Skies, Adopting Stygian G.o.ds.--The changeful hue Of his incestuous brother meets your view, Who lurks behind: observe the sudden turn Of love and hatred blanch his cheek, and burn!

His ruin'd sister there, with frantic speed, To Absalom recounts the direful deed.-- Samson behold, a prey to female fraud!

Strong, but unwise, he laid the pledge of G.o.d In her fallacious lap, who basely sold Her husband's honour for Philistian gold.-- Judith is nigh, who, mid a host in arms, With gentle accents and alluring charms Their chief o'ercame, and, at the noon of night, From his pavilion sped her venturous flight With one attendant slave, who bore along The tyrant's head amid the hostile throng; Adoring Him who arms the feeble hand.

And bids the weak a mighty foe withstand.-- Unhappy Sichem next is seen, who paid A b.l.o.o.d.y ransom for an injured maid: His guiltless sire and all his slaughter'd race, With many a life, attend the foul disgrace.

Such was the ruin by a sudden gust Of pa.s.sion caused, when murder follow'd l.u.s.t!-- That other, like a wise physician, cured An abject pa.s.sion, long with pain endured: To Vashti for an easy boon he sued; She scorn'd his suit, and rage his love subdued: Soon to its aid a softer pa.s.sion came, And from his breast expell'd the former flame: Like wedge by wedge displaced, the nuptial ties He breaks, and soon another bride supplies.-- But if you wish to see the bosom (war Of Jealousy and Love) in deadly jar, Behold that royal Jew! the dire control Of Love and Hate by turns besiege his soul.

Now Vengeance wins the day--the deed is done!

And now, in fell remorse, he hates the sun, And calls his consort from the realms of night, To which his fatal hand had sped her flight-- Behold yon hapless three, by pa.s.sion lost, Procris, and Artemisia's royal ghost; And her, whose son (his mother's grief and joy) Razed with paternal rage the walls of Troy,-- Another triple sisterhood is seen; This characters of Hades. Mark their mien With sin distain'd: their downcast looks disclose A conscience of their crimes, and dread of coming woes.-- Semiramis, and Byblis (famed of old) Her mother's rival there you next behold; With many a warrior, many a lovely dame Of old, enn.o.bled by romantic fame.-- There Lancelot and Tristram (famed in fight) Are seen, with many a dame and errant knight;-- Genevra, Belle Isonde, and hundreds more; With those who mingled their incestuous gore Shed by paternal rage; and chant beneath, In baneful symphony, the Song of Death."

He scarce had spoken, when a chill presage (What warriors feel before the battle's rage, When in the angry trump's sonorous breath They hear, before it comes, the sound of Death) My heart possess'd; and, tinged with deadly pale, I seem'd escaped from Death's eternal jail; When, fleeting to my side with looks of Love, A phantom brighter than the Cyprian dove My fingers clasp'd; which, though of power to wield The temper'd sabre in the b.l.o.o.d.y field Against an armed foe, a touch subdued; And gentle words, and looks that fired the blood, My friend addressed me (I remember well), And from his lips these dubious accents fell:-- "Converse with whom you please, for all the train Are mark'd alike the slaves of Cupid's reign."-- Thus, in security and peace trepann'd, I was enlisted in that wayward band, Who short-lived joys by anguish long obtain, And whom the pleasures of a rival pain More than their proper joys. Remembrance shows Too clear at last the source of all my woes, When Jealousy, and Love, and Envy drew That nurture from my heart by which they grew.

As feverish eyes on air-drawn features dwell, My fascinated eyes, by magic spell, Dwell'd on the heavenly form with ardent look, And at a glance the dire contagion took That tinged my days to come; and each delight, But those that bore her stamp, consign'd to night.

I blush with shame when to my inward view The devious paths return where Cupid drew His willing slave, with all my hopes and fears-- When Phoebus seem'd to rise and set in tears For many a spring--and when I used to dwell A lonely hermit in a silent cell.

How upwards oft I traced the purling rills To their pure fountains in the misty hills!

The rocks I used to climb, the solemn woods, Where oft I wander'd by the winding floods!

And often spent, whene'er I chanced to stray, In amorous ditties all the livelong day!

What mournful rhymes I wrote and 'rased again, Spending the precious hours of youth in vain!

'Twas in this school I learn'd the mystic things Of the blind G.o.d, and all the secret springs From which his hopes and fears alternate rise: 'Graved on his frontlet, the detection lies, Which all may read, for I have oped their eyes.

And she, the cause of all my lengthen'd toils, Disdains my pa.s.sion, though she boasts my spoils.

Of rigid honour proud, she smiles to see The fatal triumph of her charms in me.

Not Love himself can aid, for Love retires, And in her sacred presence veils his fires: He feels his genius by her looks subdued, And all his spells by stronger spells withstood.

Hence my despair; for neither force nor art Can wound her bosom, nor extract the dart That rankles here, while proudly she defies The power that makes a captive world his prize.

She is not one that dallies with the foe, But with unconquer'd soul defies the blow; And, like the Lord of Light, displays afar A splendour which obscures each lesser star.

Her port is all divine; her radiant smile, And e'en her scorn, the captive heart beguile; Her accents breathe of heaven; her auburn hair (Whether it wanton with the sportive air, Or bound in s.h.i.+ning wreaths adorns her face,) Secures her conquests with resistless grace; Her eyes, that sparkle with celestial fire, Have render'd me the slave of fond desire.

But who can raise his style to match her charms?

What mortal bard can sing the soft alarms That flutter in the breast, and fire the veins?

Alas! the theme surmounts the loftiest strains.

Far as the ocean in its ample bed Exceeds the purling stream that warbles through the mead, Such charms are hers--as never were reveal'd On earth, since Phoebus first the world beheld!

And voices, tuned her peerless form to praise, Suffer a solemn pause with mute amaze.

Thus was I manacled for life; while she, Proud of my bonds, enjoy'd her liberty.

With ceaseless suit I pray'd, but all in vain; One prayer among a thousand scarce could gain A slight regard--so hopeless was my state, And such the laws of Love imposed by fate!

For stedfast is the rule by Nature given, Which all the ranks of life, from earth to heaven.

With reverent awe and homage due obey, And every age and climate owns its sway.

I know the cruel pangs by lovers borne, When from the breast the bleeding heart is torn By Love's relentless gripe; the deadly harms Of Cupid, when he wields resistless arms; Or when, in dubious truce, he drops his dart, And gives short respite to the tortured heart.

The vital current's ebb and flood I know, When shame or anger bids the features glow, Or terror pales the cheek; the deadly snake I know that nestles in the flowery brake, And, watchful, seems to sleep, and languor feigns, When health-inspiring vigour fills the veins.

I know what hope and fear a.s.sail the mind When I pursue my love, yet dread to find.

I know the strange and sympathetic tie, When, soul in soul transfused, a fond ally For ever seems another and the same, Or change with mutual love their mortal frame.

From transient smiles to long protracted woe The various turns and dark degrees I know; And hot and cold, and that unequall'd smart When souls survive, though sever'd from the heart.

I know, I cherish, and detect the cheat Of every hour; but still, with eager feet And fervent hope, pursue the flying fair, And still for promised rapture meet despair.

When absent, I consume in raging fire; But, in her presence check'd, the flames expire, Repress'd by sacred awe. The boundless sway Of cruel Love I feel, that makes a prey Of all those energies that lift the soul To her congenial climes above the pole I know the various pangs that rend the heart; I know that n.o.blest souls receive the dart Without defence, when Reason drops the s.h.i.+eld And, recreant, to her foe resigns the field.-- I saw the archer in his airy flight, I saw him when he check'd his arrow's flight: And when it reach'd the mark, I watched the G.o.d, And saw him win his way by force or fraud, As best befits his ends. His whirling throne Turns short at will, or runs directly on.

The rapid follies which his axle bear, Are short fallacious hope and certain fear; And many a promise given of Halcyon days, Whose faint and dubious gleam the heart betrays.

I know what secret flame the marrow fries, How in the veins a dormant fever lies; Till, fann'd to fury by contagious breath, It gains tremendous head, and ends in death.

I know too well what long and doubtful strife Forms the dire tissue of a lover's life; The transient taste of sweet commix'd with gall, What changes dire the hapless crew befall.

Their strange fantastic habitudes I know, Their measured groans in lamentable flow; When rhyming-fits the faltering tongue employ, And love sick spasms the mournful Muse annoy; The smile that like the lightning fleets away, The sorrows that for half a life delay; Like drops of honey in a wormwood bowl, Drain'd to the dregs in bitterness of soul.

BOYD.

PART IV.

So fickle fortune, in a luckless hour, Had close consigned me to a tyrant's power, Who cut the nerves that, with elastic force, Had borne me on in Freedom's generous course-- So I, in n.o.ble independence bred, Free as the roebuck in the sylvan glade, By pa.s.sion lured, a voluntary slave-- My ready name to Cupid's muster gave.

And yet I saw their grief and wild despair; I saw them blindly seek the fatal snare Through winding paths, and many an artful maze, Where Cupid's viewless spell the band obeys.

Here, as I turn'd my anxious eyes around, If any shade I then could see renown'd In old or modern times; the bard I spied Whose unabated love pursued his bride Down to the coast of Hades; and above His life resign'd, the pledge of constant love, Calling her name in death.--Alcaeus near, Who sung the joys of Love and toils severe, Was seen with Pindar and the Teian swain, A veteran gay among the youthful train Of Cupid's host.--The Mantuan next I found, Begirt with bards from age to age renown'd; Whether they chose in lofty themes to soar, Or sportive try the Muse's lighter lore.-- There soft Tibullus walk'd with Sulmo's bard; And there Propertius with Catullus shared The meed of lovesome lays: the Grecian dame With sweeter numbers woke the amorous flame While thus I turn'd around my wondering eyes, I saw a n.o.ble train with new surprise, Who seem'd of Love in choral notes to sing, While all around them breathed Elysian spring.-- Here Alighieri, with his love I spied, Selvaggia, Guido, Cino, side by side-- Guido, who mourn'd the lot that fix'd his name The second of his age in lyric fame.-- Two other minstrels there I spied that bore His name, renown'd on Arno's tuneful sh.o.r.e.

With them Sicilia's bards, in elder days Match'd with the foremost in poetic praise, Though now they rank behind.--Sennuccio nigh With gentle Franceschino met my eye.-- But soon another tribe, of manners strange And uncouth dialect, was seen to range Along the flowery paths, by Arnald led; In Cupid's lore by all the Muses bred, And master of the theme.--Marsilia's coast And Narbonne still his polish'd numbers boast.-- The next I saw with lighter step advance; 'Twas he that caught a flame at every glance That met his eye, with him who shared his name.

Join'd with an Arnald of inferior fame.-- Next either Rambold in procession trod, No easy conquest to the winged G.o.d.

The pride of Montferrat (a peerless dame) In many a ditty sung, announced his flame; And Genoa's bard, who left his native coast, And on Marsilia's towers the memory lost Of his first time, when Salem's sacred flame Taught him a n.o.bler heritage to claim,-- Gerard and Peter, both of Gallic blood, And tuneful Rudel, who, in moonstruck mood, O'er ocean by a flying image led, In the fantastic chase his canvas spread; And, where he thought his amorous vows to breathe, From Cupid's bow received the shaft of Death.-- There was Cabestaing, whose unequall'd lays From all his rivals won superior praise.-- Hugo was there, with Almeric renown'd;-- Bernard and Anselm by the Muses crown'd.-- Those and a thousand others o'er the field Advanced; nor javelin did they want, or s.h.i.+eld; The Muses form'd their guard, and march'd before.

Spreading their long renown from sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e.-- The Latian band, with sympathising woe, At last I spied amid the moving show: Bologna's poet first, whose honour'd grave His relics hold beside Messina's wave.

O fickle joys, that fleet upon the wind, And leave the la.s.situde of life behind!

The youth, that every thought and movement sway'd Of this sad heart, is now an empty shade!

What world contains thee now, my tuneful guide, Whom nought of old could sever from my side?

What is this life?--what none but fools esteem; A fleeting shadow, a romantic dream!-- Not far I wander'd o'er the peopled field, Till Socrates and Laelius I beheld.

Oh, may their holy influence never cease That soothed my heart-corroding pangs to peace!

Unequall'd friends! no bard's ecstatic lays Nor polish'd prose your deathless name can raise To match your genuine worth! O'er hill and dale We pa.s.s'd, and oft I told my doleful tale, Disclosing all my wounds, end not in vain: Their sacred presence seem'd to soothe my pain.