Part 67 (1/2)

23 New like a giant lover rose the sun From the ocean queen, fine in his fires and great; Seemed all the morn for show, for strength at noon, As if last night she had not quenched his heat.

24 And the sun's servants, who his rising wait, His pensioners, for so all lovers are, And all maintained by him at a high rate With daily fire, now for the chase prepare.

25 All were, like hunters, clad in cheerful green, Young Nature's livery, and each at strife Who most adorned in favours should be seen, Wrought kindly by the lady of his life.

26 These martial favours on their waists they wear, On which, for now they conquest celebrate, In an embroidered history appear Like life, the vanquished in their fears and fate.

27 And on these belts, wrought with their ladies' care, Hung cimeters of Akon's trusty steel; Goodly to see, and he who durst compare Those ladies' eyes, might soon their temper feel.

28 Cheered as the woods, where new-waked choirs they meet, Are all; and now dispose their choice relays Of horse and hounds, each like each other fleet; Which best, when with themselves compared, we praise.

29 To them old forest spies, the harbourers, With haste approach, wet as still weeping night, Or deer that mourn their growth of head with tears, When the defenceless weight does hinder flight.

30 And dogs, such whose cold secrecy was meant By Nature for surprise, on these attend; Wise, temperate lime-hounds that proclaim no scent, Nor harb'ring will their mouths in boasting spend.

31 Yet vainlier far than traitors boast their prize, On which their vehemence vast rates does lay, Since in that worth their treason's credit lies, These harb'rers praise that which they now betray.

32 Boast they have lodged a stag, that all the race Outruns of Croton horse, or Rhegian hounds; A stag made long since royal in the chase, If kings can honour give by giving wounds.

33 For Aribert had pierced him at a bay, Yet 'scaped he by the vigour of his head; And many a summer since has won the day, And often left his Rhegian followers dead.

34 His s.p.a.cious beam, that even the rights outgrew, From antler to his troch had all allowed, By which his age the aged woodmen knew, Who more than he were of that beauty proud.

35 Now each relay a several station finds, Ere the triumphant train the copse surrounds; Relays of horse, long breathed as winter winds, And their deep cannon-mouthed experienced hounds.

36 The huntsmen, busily concerned in show, As if the world were by this beast undone, And they against him hired as Nature's foe, In haste uncouple, and their hounds outrun.

37 Now wind they a recheat, the roused deer's knell, And through the forest all the beasts are awed; Alarmed by Echo, Nature's sentinel, Which shows that murderous man is come abroad.

38 Tyrannic man! thy subjects' enemy!

And more through wantonness than need or hate, From whom the winged to their coverts fly, And to their dens even those that lay in wait.

39 So this, the most successful of his kind, Whose forehead's force oft his opposers pressed, Whose swiftness left pursuers' shafts behind, Is now of all the forest most distressed!

40 The herd deny him shelter, as if taught To know their safety is to yield him lost; Which shows they want not the results of thought, But speech, by which we ours for reason boast.

41 We blush to see our politics in beasts, Who many saved by this one sacrifice; And since through blood they follow interests, Like us when cruel should be counted wise.

42 His rivals, that his fury used to fear For his loved female, now his faintness shun; But were his season hot, and she but near, (O mighty love!) his hunters were undone.

43 From thence, well blown, he comes to the relay, Where man's famed reason proves but cowardice, And only serves him meanly to betray; Even for the flying, man in ambush lies.

44 But now, as his last remedy to live, (For every s.h.i.+ft for life kind Nature makes, Since life the utmost is which she can give,) Cool Adice from the swoln bank he takes.

45 But this fresh bath the dogs will make him leave, Whom he sure-nosed as fasting tigers found; Their scent no north-east wind could e'er deceive Which drives the air, nor flocks that soil the ground.

46 Swift here the fliers and pursuers seem; The frighted fish swim from their Adice, The dogs pursue the deer, he the fleet stream, And that hastes too to the Adriatic sea.

47 Refreshed thus in this fleeting element, He up the steadfast sh.o.r.e did boldly rise; And soon escaped their view, but not their scent, That faithful guide, which even conducts their eyes.

48 This frail relief was like short gales of breath, Which oft at sea a long dead calm prepare; Or like our curtains drawn at point of death, When all our lungs are spent, to give us air.