CHRISTABLE
by: Samuel Taylor Coleridge
(1772-1834)
- 'is the middle of night by the castle clock,
- And the owls have awakened the crowing cock.
- Tu--whit!----Tu--whoo!
- And hark, again! the crowing cock,
- How drowsily it crew.
- Sir Leoline, the Baron rich,
- Hath a toothless mastiff, which
- From her kennel beneath the rock
- Maketh answer to the clock,
- Four for the quarters, and twelve for the hour;
- Ever and aye, by shine and shower,
- Sixteen short howls, not over loud;
- Some say, she sees my lady's shroud.
- Is the night chilly and dark?
- The night is chilly, but not dark.
- The thin gray cloud is spread on high,
- It covers but not hides the sky.
- The moon is behind, and at the full;
- And yet she looks both small and dull.
- The night is chill, the cloud is gray:
- 'T is a month before the month of May,
- And the Spring comes slowly up this way.
- The lovely lady, Christabel,
- Whom her father loves so well,
- What makes her in the wood so late,
- A furlong from the castle gate?
- She had dreams all yesternight
- Of her own betrothed knight;
- And she in the midnight wood will pray
- For the weal of her lover that's far away.
- She stole along, she nothing spoke,
- The sighs she heaved were soft and low,
- And naught was green upon the oak
- But moss and rarest mistletoe:
- She kneels beneath the huge oak tree,
- And in silence prayeth she.
- The lady sprang up suddenly,
- The lovely lady, Christabel!
- It moaned as near, as near can be,
- But what it is she cannot tell.--
- On the other side it seems to be,
- Of the huge, broad-breasted, old oak tree.
- The night is chill; the forest bare;
- Is it the wind that moaneth bleak?
- There is not wind enough in the air
- To move away the ringlet curl
- From the lovely lady's cheek--
- There is not wind enough to twirl
- The one red leaf, the last of its clan,
- That dances as often as dance it can,
- Hanging so light, and hanging so high,
- On the topmost twig that looks up at the sky.
- Hush, beating heart of Christabel!
- Jesu, Maria, shield her well!
- She folded her arms beneath her cloak,
- And stole to the other side of the oak.
- What sees she there?
There she sees a damsel bright,
- Drest in a silken robe of white,
- That shadowy in the moonlight shone:
- The neck that made that white robe wan,
- Her stately neck, and arms were bare;
- Her blue-veined feet unsandal'd were,
- And wildly glittered here and there
- The gems entangled in her hair.
- I guess, 'twas frightful there to see
- A lady so richly clad as she--
- Beautiful exceedingly!
- "Mary mother, save me now!"
- Said Christabel, "And who art thou?"
- The lady strange made answer meet,
- And her voice was faint and sweet:--
- "Have pity on my sore distress,
- I scarce can speak for weariness:
- Stretch forth thy hand, and have no fear!"
- Said Christabel, "How camest thou here?"
- And the lady, whose voice was faint and sweet,
- Did thus pursue her answer meet:--
- "My sire is of a noble line,
- And my name is Geraldine:
- Five warriors seized me yestermorn,
- Me, even me, a maid forlorn:
- They choked my cries with force and fright,
- And tied me on a palfrey white.
- The palfrey was as fleet as wind,
- And they rode furiously behind.
- They spurred amain, their steeds were white:
- And once we crossed the shade of night.
- As sure as Heaven shall rescue me,
- I have no thought what men they be;
- Nor do I know how long it is
- (For I have lain entranced I wis)
- Since one, the tallest of the five,
- Took me from the palfrey's back,
- A weary woman, scarce alive.
- Some muttered words his comrades spoke:
- He placed me underneath this oak;
- He swore they would return with haste;
- Whither they went I cannot tell--
- I thought I heard, some minutes past,
- Sounds as of a castle bell.
- Stretch forth thy hand," thus ended she,
- "And help a wretched maid to flee."
- Then Christabel stretched forth her hand,
- And comforted fair Geraldine:
- "O well, bright dame! may you command
- The service of Sir Leoline;
- And gladly our stout chivalry
- Will he send forth and friends withal
- To guide and guard you safe and free
- Home to your noble father's hall."
- She rose: and forth with steps they passed
- That strove to be, and were not, fast.
- Her gracious stars the lady blest,
- And thus spake on sweet Christabel:
- "All our household are at rest,
- The hall as silent as the cell;
- Sir Leoline is weak in health,
- And may not well awakened be,
- But we will move as if in stealth,
- And I beseech your courtesy,
- This night, to share your couch with me."
- They crossed the moat, and Christabel
- Took the key that fitted well;
- A little door she opened straight,
- All in the middle of the gate;
- The gate that was ironed within and without,
- Where an army in battle array had marched out.
- The lady sank, belike through pain,
- And Christabel with might and main
- Lifted her up, a weary weight,
- Over the threshold of the gate:
- Then the lady rose again,
- And moved, as she were not in pain.
- So free from danger, free from fear,
- They crossed the court: right glad they were.
- And Christabel devoutly cried
- To the lady by her side,
- "Praise we the Virgin all divine
- Who hath rescued thee from thy distress!"
- "Alas, alas!" said Geraldine,
- "I cannot speak for weariness."
- So free from danger, free from fear,
- They crossed the court: right glad they were.
- Outside her kennel, the mastiff old
- Lay fast asleep, in moonshine cold.
- The mastiff old did not awake,
- Yet she an angry moan did make!
- And what can ail the mastiff bitch?
- Never till now she uttered yell
- Beneath the eye of Christabel.
- Perhaps it is the owlet's scritch:
- For what can ail the mastiff bitch?
- They passed the hall, that echoes still,
- Pass as lightly as you will!
- The brands were flat, the brands were dying,
- Amid their own white ashes lying;
- But when the lady passed, there came
- A tongue of light, a fit of flame;
- And Christabel saw the lady's eye,
- And nothing else saw she thereby,
- Save the boss of the shield of Sir Leoline tall,
- Which hung in a murky old niche in the wall.
- "O softly tread," said Christabel,
- "My father seldom sleepeth well."
- Sweet Christabel her feet doth bare,
- And jealous of the listening air
- They steal their way from stair to stair,
- Now in glimmer, and now in gloom,
- And now they pass the Baron's room,
- As still as death, with stifled breath
- And now have reached her chamber door;
- And now doth Geraldine press down
- The rushes of the chamber floor.
- The moon shines dim in the open air,
- And not a moonbeam enters here.
- But they without its light can see
- The chamber carved so curiously,
- Carved with figures strange and sweet,
- All made out of the carver's brain,
- For a lady's chamber meet:
- The lamp with twofold silver chain
- Is fastened to an angel's feet.
- The silver lamp burns dead and dim;
- But Christabel the lamp will trim.
- She trimmed the lamp, and made it bright,
- And left it swinging to and fro,
- While Geraldine, in wretched plight,
- Sank down upon the floor below.
- "O weary lady, Geraldine,
- I pray you, drink this cordial wine!
- It is a wine of virtuous powers;
- My mother made it of wild flowers."
- "And will your mother pity me,
- Who am a maiden most forlorn?
- Christabel answered--"Woe is me!
- She died the hour that I was born.
- I have heard the gray-haired friar tell
- How on her death-bed she did say,
- That she should hear the castle-bell
- Strike twelve upon my wedding-day.
- O mother dear! that thou wert here!"
- "I would," said Geraldine, "she were!"
- But soon with altered voice, said she--
- "Off, wandering mother! Peak and pine!
- I have power to bid thee flee."
- Alas! what ails poor Geraldine?
- Why stares she with unsettled eye?
- Can she the bodiless dead espy?
- And why with hollow voice cries she,
- "Off, woman, off! this hour is mine--
- Though thou her guardian spirit be,
- Off, woman, off! 'tis given to me."
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