The Poetical Works of Ernest Christopher Dowson :: :: University of Virginia Library

Now must I tell what consequences sad
Conculix' most disgraceful conduct had;
What to audacious Tirconel befell,
What succour strange and salutary as well
Our Reverend friar was able to entreat
For Dorothy, and for the Sorel sweet,
And with what art he set them safe and free.
With what a fire and what dexterity,
Maid from Dunois was ravished by the ass,
And how God's vengeance on him came to pass,
Who had, with Satan's help, defiled the Maid.
But before all, 'tis Orléans siege arrayed,
Where many warriors brave clashed arms and fell,
'Tis there we need to let our interest dwell.
O God of Love! O power by frailty known!
O fatal Love! how nearly hadst thou thrown
That citadel of France in hostile hands,
Success unhoped of those who hate our lands.
What Bedford, in experience grown old,
And Talbot sought to do, albeit bold,
And failed at last, O Love, thou wouldst attain!
Reader, reflect, their fatal flames of bane
Your bodies burn, and sore your souls beguile.
Dear child! thou workest ruin with a smile.

In that sad land, while Love his arrows flings,
Where hundred heroes struggled for two Kings,
His tender hand, months since wrought grievous smart

225

On mighty Talbot with a golden dart,
That in the first of his two sheaves he found.
It was before that siege so long renowned,
An armistice, alas too short, they make;
Louvet and he, in peace their supper take;
This Louvet, president of worthy fame,
Was rash enough to bid to sup his dame.
Madame inclined somewhat to play the prude;
Wherefore Love thought her pride should be subdued.
For prudes he hates and oft will them abase.
Thus he deranged the sternness of her face,
Her noble dignity he changed indeed,
For certain traits which unto madness lead.
Dame President, on this auspicious day,
Great Talbot wins and charms his wits away.

You've seen already that grim escalade,
Assault of blood, and horrid cannonade,
Those brave attempts, and all those desperate fights,
Within, without, and on the ramparts' heights;
When Talbot and his fiery following train
The ramparts and the gates had burst and ta'en;
When on them from the houses' tops there broke
Sword, flame and grisly death at one fell stroke.
Then fiery Talbot, with his agile walk,
Tramples the dying, through the town to stalk,
He upset all things, crying out aloud:
‘My Britons, enter and disarm the crowd!’
Much he resembled then to war's great god,
Beneath his footsteps echoing the sod,

226

When Discord and Bellona and high Fate,
As minister of Death arm him with hate.

Dame President within her walls a breach
That looked upon a ruined cot, could reach;
And through this hole her gallant could espy,
His golden helm, where feathers curl and fly,
His mailed arm, and those live sparks of flame,
Which from his pupils' orbits darting came,
That carriage proud, that demi-god's great air;
Dame President was almost in despair;
With shame dumbfounded and bereft of wits:
As once, when in her grated stage box sits
That erst famed beauty love has sore inflamed,
And ogles Baron, actor justly famed.
With ardent eyes she feasts upon his face,
His rich adornment, gestures and his grace,
Mingled with his her accents in tones low,
Love's flames received, her senses owned the glow.

Unable to resist, Dame President,
Consumed by passion, calls her confidant:
‘Run, Suson, fly, and when you find him, say,
O bid him come and lead me hence away!
Convey to him, if him you can not find
That he take pity on my lot unkind;
That if he be a worthy, gallant knight,
I'll sup with him, within his house to-night.’
The confidant dispatched a little page;
It was her brother; well he earned his wage;

227

With no delay six hardy lackeys call
At Louvet's house, and force the outer wall.

They enter and a woman masked they see,
Painted and patched, with many a coquetry,
Her hair or true or false raised to a bow,
On either side in curls was rayed below.
They take her up; she vanished from view,
By secret paths which the brave Talbot knew.

The handsome Talbot on that famous day
Through so much blood and fire had made his way,
That on the eve in dalliance with Love's charms,
He would forget the trouble of his arms.
Each mighty hero, though he win or lose,
To sup with a fair dame, would rather choose.
Thus Talbot, who has suffered no defeat,
Awaits within his house his lady sweet.

All things are ready for a supper fine;
The chased glass flagons of the rarest wine
Twixt lumps of cooling ice are there to tap,
Those liquid rubies, and that brilliant sap,
Which Citeaux' blessed cellars hoard and hide;
In the proud tent, upon the other side,
A sofa, elegantly shaped, is placed,
Soft, low and wide, with proper fittings graced,
With back inclined, and two supports incased.
There our two lovers at their will could play;
Sir Talbot 'gan to live in the French way.

228

His care was first forthwith, the fair to find,
Who to his wooing had proved passing kind.
All things around him of his lady tell.
They bring her in, she's introduced as well.
A monster gray, in childish ruffs and frills,
Just three feet high, not to forget her heels.
Her little eyes with lively red ornate,
Yellow effusions ever inundate;
Her broad flat nose, twisted and turned within
Seems to drop straight upon her long hooked chin.

The Devil's mistress, Talbot thinks to take;
He utters cries at which the tables shake.
It was fat Louvet's sister whom had brought
The guard when in his house his wife they sought;
She strutted round with pride and pleasure spent,
In rich delight at such a ravishment.

Dame President the direst grief assailed;
To think how her high enterprise had failed,
She quite lost heart at this misreckoning,
And cursed her sister like a Valois King.
Already love had troubled sore her wit,
'Twas worse now jealousy had part in it,
Her troubled mind was lit with further flame,
And madder than before she now became.