With Palamon, above the rest in place,
Lycurgus came, the surly king of Thrace;
Black was his beard, and manly was his face:
The balls of his broad eyes roll'd in his head,
And glared bewixt a yellow and a red;
He look'd a lion with a gloomy stare,
And o'er his eye-brows hung his matted hair;
Big-boned, and large of limbs, with sinews strong,
Broad-shoulder'd, and his arms were round and long.
Four milk-white bulls (the Thracian use of old,)
Were yoked to draw his car of burnish'd gold.
Upright he stood, and bore aloft his shield,
Conspicuous from afar, and overlook'd the field.
His surcoat was a bear-skin on his back;
His hair hung long behind, and glossy raven-black.
His ample forehead bore a coronet
With sparkling diamonds, and with rubies set;
Ten brace, and more, of greyhounds, snowy fair,
And tall as stags, ran loose, and coursed around his chair,
A match for pards in flight, in grappling for the bear.
With golden muzzles all their mouths were bound,
And collars of the same their necks surround.
Thus through the field Lycurgus took his way;
His hundred knights attend in pomp and proud array.
To match this monarch, with strong Arcite came
Emetrius, king of Inde, a mighty name!
On a bay courser, goodly to behold,
The trappings of his horse emboss'd with barbarous gold.
Not Mars bestrode a steed with greater grace;
His surcoat o'er his arms was cloth of Thrace,
Adorn'd with pearls, all orient, round, and great;
His saddle was of gold, with emeralds set;
His shoulders large a mantle did attire,
With rubies thick, and sparkling as the fire;
His amber-coloured locks in ringlets run,
With graceful negligence, and shone against the sun.
His nose was aquiline, his eyes were blue,
Ruddy his lips, and fresh and fair his hue;
Some sprinkled freckles on his face were seen,
Whose dusk set off the whiteness of the skin.
His awful presence did the crowd surprise,
Nor durst the rash spectator meet his eyes,
Eyes that confess'd him born for kingly sway,
So fierce, they flash'd intolerable day.
His age in nature's youthful prime appear'd,
And just began to bloom his yellow beard.
Whene'er he spoke, his voice was heard around,
Loud as a trumpet, with a silver sound;
A laurel wreath'd his temples, fresh and green,
And myrtle sprigs, the marks of love, were mix'd between.
Upon his fist he bore, for his delight,
An eagle well reclaim'd, and lily white.
His hundred knights attend him to the war,
All arm'd for battle, save their heads were bare.
Words and devices blazed on every shield,
And pleasing was the terror of the field.
For kings, and dukes, and barons you might see,
Like sparkling stars, though different in degree,
All for the increase of arms, and love of chivalry.
Before the king tame leopards led the way,
And troops of lions innocently play.
So Bacchus through the conquer'd Indies rode,
And beasts in gambols frisk'd before the honest god.
Dryden, you will have noticed, smooths down, in some places, a little
the savagery of the Thracian. He has let go the fell gryphon, borrowing
instead the lion's glances of Emetrius. For the more refined poetical
invention of the advanced world, the opposition of the two animals for
contrasting the two heroes, had possibly something of the burlesque. To
Chaucer it was simply energetic. Or Dryden perhaps had not taken up a
right view of the gryphon's looking, or he thought that his readers
would not. He compensates Emetrius with plainly describing his eyes, in
four very animated verses. Lycurge's combed eye-brows are a little
mitigated, as is his ferocious bear-skin; and the ring of gold, as thick
as a man's arm, has become merely a well-jewelled coronet. The spirit of
the figure is, notwithstanding, caught and given. Dryden intends and
conveys the impression purposed and effected by Chaucer.
If the black and sullen portrait loses a little grimness under the rich
and harmonious pencil of Dryden, the needful contradistinction of the
two royal auxiliars is maintained by heightening the favour of the more
pleasing one. Throughout, Dryden with pains insists upon the more
attractive features which we have claimed for the King of Inde. Grace is
twice attributed to his appearance. He has gained blue eyes. His
complexion is carefully and delicately handled, as may be especially
seen in the management of the freckles. The _blooming_ of his yellow
beard, the thundering of the trumpet changed into a silvery sound, the
myrtle sprigs mixed amongst the warlike laurel--all unequivocally
display the gracious intentions of Dryden towards Emetrius--all aid in
rendering effective the opposition which Chaucer has deliberately
represented betwixt the two kings. Why the surly Thracian should be
rather allied to the knight who serves Venus, and the more gallant
Emetrius to the fierce Arcite, the favourite of the War-god, is left for
the meditation of readers in all time to come.
The two opposed pictures are perhaps as highly finished as any part of
the version. The words fall into their own places, painting their
objects. The verse marches with freedom, fervour, and power. Translation
has then reached its highest perfection when the suspicion of an
original vanishes. The translator makes the matter his own, and writes
as if from his own unassisted conception. The allusion to Bacchus is
Dryden's own happy addition.
Now read with us--perhaps for the first time--the famous recital of the
death of Arcite.