XC
The host, with will the fort to take,
Against it fierce assault doth make,
Yet hath the god but small success,
Though fight his troops with hardiness,
For those within resistance stout
Make to assailants from without.
The fort attacked
Then the two hosts their fury spend,
Attacking these, while those defend.
Labours the mighty mangonel.
Casting great rocks, with purpose fell.
Against the walls, whose guardians make
Stout wattled palisades, to break
The force thereof, with limber wood
From Danger’s thickets deftly hewed.16560
Against them the besiegers send
Great flights of keen-barbed arrows, penned
With earnest vows and giftings fair,
Which hope they in the end will bear
Good recompense, for every shaft
Hath graven on its polished haft
Fair promises, and each steel head
Is with strong oath or vow bestead.
But well the guardians know the charge
To parry, covering each with targe16570
His body, which might well resist
The deadliest shaft that ever hissed
In air, for made were they of wood
From Danger’s forests, gnarled and good—
’Gainst them were keenest arrows vain.
As thus the combat goes amain,
Cupid towards his mother flies,
Declares his perilous state, and cries
On her for help to break the wall.
Venus
The vow of Venus
Exclaims she: May foul death befall16580
The very heart and soul of me
If I, despite of Jealousy,
Permit that of a woman’s heart
Cold Chastity claim chiefest part.
Too oft she brings me pain and care.
Fair son, see thou that all men swear
Within your pleasant paths to tread.
The God of Love.
Right willingly, God Cupid said;
No living man shall be acclaimed
For noble, or as gentle named16590
Who loveth not, or hath not been
By damsel’s loving eyes beseen.
What grief! to know some mortals live
Who shun the joys ’tis mine to give;
Casting my dear delights away,
But they therefor shall smartly pay!
All those I hate, who love me not,
And dark and drear will make their lot.
Of such men will I far and wide
Complain, nor my displeasure hide16600
Or cloak, but will in many a mode
Lay on their backs some grievous load
Until I have my vengeance spent,
And they avow them penitent,
Or sink beneath my hate and scorn.
A curse on those of Adam born
Who dare to cross my sovereign will,
Their very life-blood will I spill,
Should they reject my dear delight!
Yea, should some show me such despite16610
As fell me to the earth with blows,
They’d do me no more hurt than those.
I am not mortal, mother mine,
But if it were so, I opine
That ’neath such misery soon should I
Wither and perish utterly.
Love’s joys
For if my pleasures men gave o’er
To me were left then nothing more
Saving my body and attire,
My bow and chaplet; all the fire16620
Of love extinct, then were men’s power
Of joyance dead, woe worth the hour!
For counting me of none avail
They must beneath life’s burden fail;
For where could mortal happier be
The Author.
Straightway that oath, the host all swore.
And, that it might be made more sure.
In place of relics brought they rows
Of quivers, arrows, pikes and bows,16630
And all Love’s implements of war,
And cried:
The Barons of the host with one voice.
The barons’ oath
Are these not better far
Than relics? Upon them will we
Make oath and pledge most solemnly;
If on such things false oaths we sware
Our credit lost for ever were.
The Author.
They swore on these, and nought beside,
For therein did their hearts confide,
And true their oath was, as might be
Sworn on the Holy Trinity.16640