Romance of the Rose (Ellis)/Chapter 13
XIII
Herein the Dreamer telleth how
He felt the shaft of Cupid’s bow.
E’en as he sought his hand to close
Around the stem, and snatch the rose,
Whose fragrance through his soul had sent
Such madness and bewilderment.
But this, his fondest hope, denied
The God of Love, who him espied.
Love speeds a shaft
The God of Love, whose bow was bent
With purpose fell, where’er I went1760
Pursued my steps, and took his stand
Beneath a fig-tree, close at hand
To where, with arm upraised, I sought
To pluck the Rose whose beauty brought
Me thither; then he took a shaft
And nocking it, with bowman’s craft,
Drew the string taut against his ear
With mighty arm, for well that gear
The Dreamer pierced by Beauty
He knows to handle; straightway flew
The shaft therefrom, which right well knew1770
Its deadly billet; through my heart
Quick pierced the golden-headed dart,
And on my forehead ice-cold sweat
Burst forth, and ne’er can I forget
How ’neath my fur-trimmed doublet spread
Chill shuddering as my life were sped.
Pierced by the fatal shaft I fell
Supine to earth; ah! woe to tell
How sudden faintness seemed to seize
My heart, the while I felt my knees1780
Give way, and when from out the swoon
I woke, felt feeble as the moon
Looketh in glare of day. I thought
To see blood flow, but when I sought
The wounded spot ’twas clear and dry.
Thereto both hands did I apply.
And strove, ’mid sighs and groans, to draw
The shaft from out the cruel flaw:
But, misery me, although the bole
I drew from out the fatal hole,1790
The iron barb, which Beauty hight,
Remained therein, fast-fixed, and tight
Past power to move it, yet no gout
Of crimson life-blood welled thereout.
Ah! then what anguish and distress.
What grief twice told, what heaviness,
I suffered: reft of speech I stood
Distrustful where or how I could
Some leech discover, or what herb
To seek that might or cure or curb1800
My grievous hurt.
The Rosebud still
My heart desired: that seemed t
o fill
My being only; and the gain
Of that dear treasure all my pain
Had cased straightway, and given to me
New life, from grief and sorrow free.
For even to see it and inhale
Its fragrance made the bitter bale
Of life seem lighter, and though death
Drew near, I strove to catch its breath.1810
But even then beheld that Love
Another arrow raised above
My trembling body.
The shaft hight Simpleness
Simpleness
This second shaft was called, nor less
Of might it hath than Beauty; oft
Have men and maidens felt its soft
But potent stroke. All suddenly
The God, without once warning me,
This golden arrow nocked and sped,
With mighty twang, against my head1820
Its cruel barb, which through the eye
Pierced to my soul; and verily
I fear no man of woman born
Can e’er from out my breast that thorn
Pull forth, for though one might release
The shaft, yet must the barb unpeace
For ever give to me, and lo!
Therewith desire began to grow
Fiercer within me than before
To win the rosebud; more and more1830
Increased it as the more I felt
Love’s second shaft, till seemed to melt
My inmost soul. Oh sweeter far
That rose to me, than violets are
When spring awakes; it drew me on,
Though wiser ’twere if I had gone
Swiftfooted thence in hasty flight;
But oft it haps that folly’s might
Prevails o’er reason, and I bent
My steps towards the rose whose scent1840
Subdued my will.
A careful watch
This while the archer kept to snatch
Fair field against me as I strove
To reach the fragrant flower, whose love
Entranced my soul.
The shaft hight Courtesy
Now thirdly flew
The shaft hight Courtesy, which through
My heart pierced once again. Adown
I fell at once in deadly swoon.
Stretched out beneath the sombre shade
An olive tree’s broad branches made.1850
The wound this time was wide and deep.
And when I woke from swooning sleep.
And strove with all my strength and craft
To pluck the weapon forth, the haft,
Alas! was all therefrom I gained.
Fast fixed the jagged barb remained.
Then sitting on the sward upright.
My painful anguish as I might
Brooking, I saw that woe must be
My lot, for this last wound to me1860
Brought new desire to gain the rose.
And yet again the archer chose
The shaft height Generosity
Another bolt of beauty rare,
Gold wrought and winged with plumage fair:
Ah! well might I then fear my fate,
For scalded man doth water hate,
Though but lukewarm or cold it be.
Franchise or Generosity
This shaft was named; yet nought dismayed
Would be though arrows round me played,1870
And swords and stones were showered pell-mell.
One word alone my tongue could spell:
“Give me my rose.”
Almighty Love,
Whose influence reigneth far above
All else, to me such courage gave
As dared his worst assault to brave.
Wounded and weak I gained my feet
And staggered on, prepared to meet
The archer, towards that rose-grown brake,
But found strong spines and thistles make1880
A barrier none could pass. Ah! vain
All efforts proved the prize to gain.
Yet near the hedge I stood, and might
Freely enjoy the gladsome sight
Of those sweet roses hedged by thorns,
Nought recking or of pains or scorns
If only I might snuff the air
With fragrance laden, and the fair
Sweet rosebuds gaze on, free from let
Or hindrance.
Then did I forget1890
All pain and suffering, lost in joy
That nought could ’minish, nought destroy;
So long as I might rest anear
The rose, o’erpast was all my fear.
Healed were my wounds, what more could I
Desire, than thus to live and die?
Company and Fair-Seeming
Some while remained I resting there,
When came the God of Love, (whose care
Alonely seemed my heart to rack)
As though his mind was to attack1900
Me once again. With fell intent,
His bright and beauteous bow he bent,
Driving an arrow ’neath my breast,
Which found my heart—its destined quest.
This arrow’s name was Company,
The which is known ’fore all to be
Potent in curing maid or dame
Of foolish coyness, pride, or shame.
It suddenly within me wrought
Renewed distress, and o’er me brought1910
Three swoons, and when from them I woke,
More barely my forlornness broke
Upon me, and all hope had fled
Of cure or bettering. Then I said:
More welcome death were, than to lead
A life so vile, where troubles breed
New troubles still, for Cupid now
Hath will to make of me, I trow,
A martyr; fain were I to flit
Me hence; but how to compass it?1920
Meanwhile the God against me aimed
Another arrow, which was named
Fair-Seeming. Dangerous it is.
Yet he who feels its force, ywis,
Love’s balsam
Blesseth the pain it brings. Its point
Is keen and pierces thew and joint
Like steel-wrought razor. But the head
With unguent is by Cupid spread
To dull the pain, for wills he not
The death of those whom he hath got1930
Within his toils, but betterment
Delights to give them; oft is sent
To all his lieges fragrant balm,
Wrought by his hands, their griefs to calm.
Lovers in him great comfort find;
Sores doth he heal and woundings bind.
This arrow Love against me drew,
Tearing my heart, but like a dew
Of sweet effect this unguent spread
Through all my frame, from heel to head,1940
My senses cleared, and gave me back
That strength whereof my limbs had lack.
And through that precious balsam death
Was cheated—Love renewed my breath.
Enough of strength I had to draw
The arrow forth, but like a claw
The barb held fast, so all the five
Fair shafts did Cupid thus contrive
To lodge within my frame, which ne’er
Can force remove or time outwear.1950
And though the ointment helped me much,
The pains I still endured were such,
That of my countenance the hue
Was altered, and right well I knew
That this last shaft both marred and made,
For anguish tipped its pointed blade;
The while the unguent, soft and suave,
To all my wounds sweet comfort gave.
At once it hurt and yet it healed.
Awaited new pains, yet old annealed.1960