 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
THE RESCUE OF ALBRET.
When Count d'Albrét had passed away, he left no son as heir;
And so his many seignories fell to his daughter fair;
To keep the name alive he willed that on her wedding-day
The mate she chose should take the arms and title of Albrét.
And so his many seignories fell to his daughter fair;
To keep the name alive he willed that on her wedding-day
The mate she chose should take the arms and title of Albrét.
She dwelt within her castle old, this noble demoiselle,
Almost as much from life apart as in the convent cell;
Ten men-at-arms the place to guard; ten servants at her call,
A white-haired priest, a saucy page, four maidens—these were all.
Almost as much from life apart as in the convent cell;
Ten men-at-arms the place to guard; ten servants at her call,
A white-haired priest, a saucy page, four maidens—these were all.
But many a needy gentleman bethought him of the prize,
For him who favor found within the noble lady's eyes,
And waited with impatience till, a twelvemonth being o'er
At court the Countess Isoline would show herself once more.
For him who favor found within the noble lady's eyes,
And waited with impatience till, a twelvemonth being o'er
At court the Countess Isoline would show herself once more.
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The free companion, John Lanceplaine, a soldier basely bred,
Heard of it, too, and thought: “Methinks 'tis time that I were wed.
A lady passing fair is much, and more the fertile land,
But most of all, nobility. I'll win the maiden's hand.
Heard of it, too, and thought: “Methinks 'tis time that I were wed.
A lady passing fair is much, and more the fertile land,
But most of all, nobility. I'll win the maiden's hand.
“I am not one to sue and court, am all devoid of grace,
Advanced in years and grey of beard, with scarred and wrinkled face;
I may not woo with courtly phrase, as might some silken lord.
My winning shall my wooing be; I'll gain her by my sword.
Advanced in years and grey of beard, with scarred and wrinkled face;
I may not woo with courtly phrase, as might some silken lord.
My winning shall my wooing be; I'll gain her by my sword.
“She bides at home, my spies report, not twenty miles away;
They say she has ten men-at-arms, no more, to guard Albrét.
The dwellers in the village near, I little reck for those,
We'll brush them off like trifling gnats when we the hold enclose.”
They say she has ten men-at-arms, no more, to guard Albrét.
The dwellers in the village near, I little reck for those,
We'll brush them off like trifling gnats when we the hold enclose.”
He called around his men-at-arms—a base and cruel band,
Part of the scum that overflowed that time the hapless land—
And said: “At daybreak forth we ride to storm a castled hold,
Its walls contain a wife for me, for you, rich store of gold.”
Part of the scum that overflowed that time the hapless land—
And said: “At daybreak forth we ride to storm a castled hold,
Its walls contain a wife for me, for you, rich store of gold.”
A motley troop before the place next day drew bridle-rein—
Two hundred ruffians, at their head the grisly John Lanceplaine,
Rode through the town with oath and jest, and camping on the field,
Sent message to the chatelaine, and summoned her to yield.
Two hundred ruffians, at their head the grisly John Lanceplaine,
Rode through the town with oath and jest, and camping on the field,
Sent message to the chatelaine, and summoned her to yield.
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“We mean,” 'twas said, “but courtesy; we promise treatment fair;
But woe to those in leaguered hold who may resistance dare.”
The countess showed no craven fear; she sent defiance back,
And waited with the garrison the robber-knaves' attack.
But woe to those in leaguered hold who may resistance dare.”
The countess showed no craven fear; she sent defiance back,
And waited with the garrison the robber-knaves' attack.
It was not long to wait: they come with confidence elate
With scaling-ladders for the walls, and rams to force the gate.
It was not long before they found their frantic efforts vain,
With twenty sorely wounded men, and five among them slain.
With scaling-ladders for the walls, and rams to force the gate.
It was not long before they found their frantic efforts vain,
With twenty sorely wounded men, and five among them slain.
“We'll spare more loss,” cried John Lanceplaine; “of food they have no store;
Famine shall do the work for us before a week be o'er.”
And so he ordered watch and ward, while careless, day by day,
The ruffians, sure to win at last, before the castle lay.
Famine shall do the work for us before a week be o'er.”
And so he ordered watch and ward, while careless, day by day,
The ruffians, sure to win at last, before the castle lay.
When bread fell short, Girard Beaujeu, the page, he eager said:
“My great and noble lady, thus our fate must sure be sped.
Give me to seek a mode by which an exit may be made
To find some gallant gentleman whose arms may give us aid.”
“My great and noble lady, thus our fate must sure be sped.
Give me to seek a mode by which an exit may be made
To find some gallant gentleman whose arms may give us aid.”
“Go forth, Girard,” the lady said, “go forth, for yet perchance
May be some knights who keep afield, and wield the sword and lance;
Go forth, and if your eager search bring succor in our need,
Honors and lands, as well as thanks, shall surely be your meed.”
May be some knights who keep afield, and wield the sword and lance;
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Honors and lands, as well as thanks, shall surely be your meed.”
From postern gate, at dead of night, with sword in hand, he steals;
Now creeps by bush, now crawls by stone, now stoops half bent, now kneels;
He finds the sentinels asleep, and makes his way to where
The horses of the losel knaves lie in the open air.
Now creeps by bush, now crawls by stone, now stoops half bent, now kneels;
He finds the sentinels asleep, and makes his way to where
The horses of the losel knaves lie in the open air.
He saddles one and bridles one, and slowly leads him down
The grassy slope and o'er the road, and past the sleeping town;
Then mounts with care, and cautious rides, till from all hearing passed,
Then urges on the wakened steed, and gallops hard and fast.
The grassy slope and o'er the road, and past the sleeping town;
Then mounts with care, and cautious rides, till from all hearing passed,
Then urges on the wakened steed, and gallops hard and fast.
Sir Hugh d'Espaign, with nine his friends, were holding revel fair
Within a little hostelry, “Le Lion Rouge,” at Aire;
In burst Girard, and said to him: “If honor you essay,
Come where a rabble rout besiege my lady of Albrét.”
Within a little hostelry, “Le Lion Rouge,” at Aire;
In burst Girard, and said to him: “If honor you essay,
Come where a rabble rout besiege my lady of Albrét.”
Sir Hugh gave ear to tale he told, and to the others then
He said: “There are two hundred there, and here we are but ten.
Why, that is but a score apiece; 'twill heighten the mellay;
Let's mount at once, fair friends, and reach the spot ere break of day.”
He said: “There are two hundred there, and here we are but ten.
Why, that is but a score apiece; 'twill heighten the mellay;
Let's mount at once, fair friends, and reach the spot ere break of day.”
144
They armed themselves, they mounted fast; Sir Hugh was in the lead;
And as they neared the robbers' camp they checked their horses' speed;
Slowly along the road they made in silentness their way,
Until they came where, through the dark, loomed sullenly Albrét.
And as they neared the robbers' camp they checked their horses' speed;
Slowly along the road they made in silentness their way,
Until they came where, through the dark, loomed sullenly Albrét.
Asleep Lanceplaine and all his men, the sentries nodding there—
The castle guard more watchful were, for succor making prayer—
When came the sound of thundering hoofs, a rush of horse, pell-mell,
And thrust of lance and stroke of sword, on coat and cuirass fell.
The castle guard more watchful were, for succor making prayer—
When came the sound of thundering hoofs, a rush of horse, pell-mell,
And thrust of lance and stroke of sword, on coat and cuirass fell.
Awake, Lanceplaine, from pleasant dreams of lands and lady fair!
He dreams no more; Sir Hugh's good lance has slain him then and there.
Awake the rest, to fight and fall, for well the wretches know
A shriftless cord shall be his fate, who 'scapes the thrust and blow.
He dreams no more; Sir Hugh's good lance has slain him then and there.
Awake the rest, to fight and fall, for well the wretches know
A shriftless cord shall be his fate, who 'scapes the thrust and blow.
In peril dire, Girard, the page; two knaves had set on him;
His was a slender build, and they were tall and stout of limb.
But steady blows he gives and takes, nor stays for help to call,
And from the castle as they gaze, they see his foemen fall.
His was a slender build, and they were tall and stout of limb.
But steady blows he gives and takes, nor stays for help to call,
And from the castle as they gaze, they see his foemen fall.
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Wave kerchiefs from the battlements; the field is lost and won;
A joyous shout of triumph goes to greet the rising sun,
And welcomed by the countess fair, the champions brave, who brought
Swift rescue to beleagured ones, and well on robbers wrought.
A joyous shout of triumph goes to greet the rising sun,
And welcomed by the countess fair, the champions brave, who brought
Swift rescue to beleagured ones, and well on robbers wrought.
And thus it was, Sir Hugh d'Espaign won lands and lady sweet;
And thus it was Girard Beaujeu won guerdon, fair and meet.
And poets sing, throughout the land, in many a pleasant lay,
The doings of the knights who rode to the rescue of Albrét.
And thus it was Girard Beaujeu won guerdon, fair and meet.
And poets sing, throughout the land, in many a pleasant lay,
The doings of the knights who rode to the rescue of Albrét.
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |