The Complete Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge: Poems, Plays, Essays, Lectures, Autobiography & Personal Letters (Illustrated). Samuel Taylor Coleridge

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">       But whispering tongues can poison truth;

       And constancy lives in realms above;

       And life is thorny; and youth is vain;

       And to be wroth with one we love,

       Doth work like madness in the brain.

       And thus it chanc’d, as I divine,

       With Roland and Sir Leoline.

       Each spake words of high disdain

       And insult to his heart’s best brother:

       They parted — never to meet again!

       But never either found another

       To free the hollow heart from paining —

       They stood aloof, the scars remaining,

       Like cliffs which had been rent asunder;

       A dreary sea now flows between; —

       But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder,

       Shall wholly do away, I ween,

       The marks of that which once hath been.

      Sir Leoline gazed for a moment on the face of Geraldine, and the youthful Lord of Tryermaine again came back upon his heart. He is then described as forgetting his age, and his noble heart swells with indignation.

      He then affectionately takes Geraldine in his arms, who meets the embrace:

      ”Prolonging it with joyous look,

       Which when she viewed, a vision fell

       Upon the soul of Christabel,

       The vision of fear, the touch and pain!

       She shrunk and shudder’d and saw again

       (Ah woe is me! Was it for thee,

       Thou gentle maid! such sights to see?)

      Geraldine then appears to her in her real character, (‘half’ human only,) the sight of which alarms Christabel. The Baron mistakes for jealousy this alarm in his daughter, which was induced by fear of Geraldine, and had been the sole cause of her unconsciously imitating the “hissing sound:”

      Whereat the Knight turn’d wildly round,

       And nothing saw, but his own sweet maid

       With eyes uprais’d, as one that pray’d.

      This touch, this sight passed away, and left in its stead the vision of her guardian angel (her mother) which had comforted her after rest, and having sought consolation in prayer, her countenance resumes its natural serenity and sweetness. The Baron surprised at these sudden transitions, exclaims,

      “What ails then my beloved child?”

      Christabel makes answer:

      ”All will yet be well!”

       I ween, she had no power to tell

       Aught else: so mighty was the spell.

      Yet the Baron seemed so captivated by Geraldine, as to “deem her a thing divine.” She pretended much sorrow, and feared she might have offended Christabel, praying with humility to be sent home immediately.

      ”Nay!

       Nay — by my soul!” said Leoline.

       ”Ho! — Bracy, the bard, the charge be thine!

       Go thou with music sweet and loud

       And take two steeds with trappings proud;

       And take the youth whom thou lov’st best

       To bear thy harp and learn thy song,

       And clothe you both in solemn vest

       And over the mountains haste along.

      He is desired to continue his way to the castle of Tryermaine. Bracy is thus made to act in a double capacity, as bard and herald: in the first, he is to announce to Lord Roland the safety of his daughter in Langdale Hall; in the second as herald to the Baron, he is to convey an apology according to the custom of that day,

      ”He bids thee come without delay,

       With all thy numerous array;

       And take thy lovely daughter home,

       And he will meet thee on the way,

       With all his numerous array;

       White with their panting palfrey’s foam,

       And by mine honour! I will say,

       That I repent me of the day;

       When I spake words of fierce disdain,

       To Roland de Vaux of Tryermaine! —

       For since that evil hour hath flown,

       Many a summer’s sun hath shone;

       Yet ne’er found I a friend again

       Like Roland de Vaux of Tryermaine.”

       The lady fell, and clasped his knees,

       Her face upraised, her eyes o’erflowing,

       And Bracy replied, with faltering voice,

       His gracious hail on all bestowing: —

       Thy words, thou sire of Christabel,

       Are sweeter than my harp can tell.

       Yet might I gain a boon of thee,

       This day my journey should not be,

       So strange a dream hath come to me:

       That I had vow’d with music loud

       To clear yon wood from thing unblest,

       Warn’d by a vision in my rest!

      The dream is then related by Bracy; it is an outline of the past, and a prophecy of the future. — The Baron listens with a smile, turns round, and looks at Geraldine,

      ”His eyes made up of wonder and love;

       And said in courtly accents fine,

       Sweet maid, Lord Roland’s beauteous dove,

       With arms more strong than harp or song,

       Thy sire and I will crush the snake!”

       He kissed her forehead as he spake,

       And Geraldine in maiden wise,

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