Of King Edgar and his imposing a tribute of wolves' heads upon the kings of Wales: from hence a transition to fox-hunting, which is described in all its parts.—Censure of an over-numerous pack.—Of the several engines to destroy foxes, and other wild beasts.—The steel-trap described, and the manner of using it.—Description of the pitfall for the lion; and another for the elephant.—The ancient way of hunting the tiger with a mirror.—The Arabian manner of hunting the wild boar.—Description of the royal stag-chase at Windsor Forest.—Concludes with an address to his Majesty, and an eulogy upon mercy.
In Albion's isle when glorious Edgar reigned,
He wisely provident, from her white cliffs
Launched half her forests, and with numerous fleets
Covered his wide domain: there proudly rode
Lord of the deep, the great prerogative
Of British monarchs. Each invader bold,
Dane and Norwegian, at a distance gazed,
And disappointed, gnashed his teeth in vain.
He scoured the seas, and to remotest shores
With swelling sails the trembling corsair fled.
_10
Rich commerce flourished; and with busy oars
Dashed the resounding surge. Nor less at land
His royal cares; wise, potent, gracious prince!
His subjects from their cruel foes he saved,
And from rapacious savages their flocks.
Cambria's proud kings (though with reluctance) paid
Their tributary wolves; head after head,
In full account, till the woods yield no more,
And all the ravenous race extinct is lost.
In fertile pastures, more securely grazed
_20
The social troops; and soon their large increase
With curling fleeces whitened all the plains.
But yet, alas! the wily fox remained,
A subtle, pilfering foe, prowling around 24
In midnight shades, and wakeful to destroy.
In the full fold, the poor defenceless lamb,
Seized by his guileful arts, with sweet warm blood
Supplies a rich repast. The mournful ewe,
Her dearest treasure lost, through the dun night
Wanders perplexed, and darkling bleats in vain:
_30
While in the adjacent bush, poor Philomel,
(Herself a parent once, till wanton churls
Despoiled her nest) joins in her loud laments,
With sweeter notes, and more melodious woe.
For these nocturnal thieves, huntsman, prepare
Thy sharpest vengeance. Oh! how glorious 'tis
To right the oppressed, and bring the felon vile
To just disgrace! Ere yet the morning peep,
Or stars retire from the first blush of day,
With thy far-echoing voice alarm thy pack,
_40
And rouse thy bold compeers. Then to the copse,
Thick with entangling grass, or prickly furze,
With silence lead thy many-coloured hounds,
In all their beauty's pride. See! how they range
Dispersed, how busily this way and that,
They cross, examining with curious nose
Each likely haunt. Hark! on the drag I hear
Their doubtful notes, preluding to a cry
More nobly full, and swelled with every mouth.
As straggling armies at the trumpet's voice,
_50
Press to their standard; hither all repair,
And hurry through the woods; with hasty step
Bustling, and full of hope; now driven on heaps
They push, they strive; while from his kennel sneaks
The conscious villain. See! he skulks along,
Sleek at the shepherd's cost, and plump with meals
Purloined. So thrive the wicked here below.
Though high his brush he bear, though tipped with white
It gaily shine; yet ere the sun declined
Recall the shades of night, the pampered rogue
_60
Shall rue his fate reversed; and at his heels
Behold the just avenger, swift to seize
His forfeit head, and thirsting for his blood.
Heavens! what melodious strains! how beat our hearts
Big with tumultuous joy! the loaded gales
Breathe harmony; and as the tempest drives
From wood to wood, through every dark recess
The forest thunders, and the mountains shake.
The chorus swells; less various, and less sweet
The trilling notes, when in those very groves,
_70
The feathered choristers salute the spring,
And every bush in concert joins; or when
The master's hand, in modulated air,
Bids the loud organ breathe, and all the powers
Of music in one instrument combine,
An universal minstrelsy. And now
In vain each earth he tries, the doors are barred
Impregnable, nor is the covert safe;
He pants for purer air. Hark! what loud shouts
Re-echo through the groves! he breaks away,
_80
Shrill horns proclaim his flight. Each straggling hound
Strains o'er the lawn to reach the distant pack.
'Tis triumph all and joy. Now, my brave youths,
Now give a loose to the clean generous steed;
Flourish the whip, nor spare the galling spur;
But in the madness of delight, forget
Your fears. Far o'er the rocky hills we range,
And dangerous our course; but in the brave
True courage never fails. In vain the stream
In foaming eddies whirls; in vain the ditch
_90
Wide-gaping threatens death. The craggy steep
Where the poor dizzy shepherd crawls with care,
And clings to every twig, gives us no pain;
But down we sweep, as stoops the falcon bold
To pounce his prey. Then up the opponent hill,
By the swift motion slung, we mount aloft:
So ships in winter-seas now sliding sink
Adown the steepy wave, then tossed on high
Ride on the billows, and defy the storm.
What lengths we pass! where will the wandering chase
_100
Lead us bewildered! smooth as the swallows skim
The new-shorn mead, and far more swift we fly.
See my brave pack! how to the head they press,
Jostling in close array; then more diffuse
Obliquely wheel, while from their opening mouths
The vollied thunder breaks. So when the cranes
Their annual voyage steer, with wanton wing
Their figure oft they change, and their loud clang
From cloud to cloud rebounds. How far behind
The hunter-crew, wide straggling o'er the plain!
_110
The panting courser now with trembling nerves
Begins to reel; urged by the goring spur,
Makes many a faint effort: he snorts, he foams,
The big round drops run trickling down his sides,
With sweat and blood distained. Look back and view
The strange confusion of the vale below,
Where sour vexation reigns; see yon poor jade,
In vain the impatient rider frets and swears,
With galling spurs harrows his mangled sides;
He can no more: his stiff unpliant limbs
_120
Rooted in earth, unmoved and fixed he stands,
For every cruel curse returns a groan,
And sobs, and faints, and dies. Who without grief
Can view that pampered steed, his master's joy,
His minion, and his daily care, well clothed,
Well fed with every nicer cate; no cost,
No labour spared; who, when the flying chase
Broke from the copse, without a rival led
The numerous train: now a sad spectacle
Of pride brought low, and humbled insolence,
_130
Drove like a panniered ass, and scourged along.
While these with loosened reins, and dangling heels,
Hang on their reeling palfreys, that scarce bear
Their weights; another in the treacherous bog
Lies floundering half engulfed. What biting thoughts
Torment the abandoned crew! Old age laments
His vigour spent: the tall, plump, brawny youth
Curses his cumbrous bulk; and envies now
The short Pygmean race, he whilom kenn'd
With proud insulting leer. A chosen few
_140
Alone the sport enjoy, nor droop beneath
Their pleasing toils. Here, huntsman, from this height
Observe yon birds of prey; if I can judge,
'Tis there the villain lurks; they hover round
And claim him as their own. Was I not right?
See! there he creeps along; his brush he drags,
And sweeps the mire impure; from his wide jaws
His tongue unmoistened hangs; symptoms too sure
Of sudden death. Ha! yet he flies, nor yields
To black despair. But one loose more, and all
_150
His wiles are vain. Hark! through yon village now
The rattling clamour rings. The barns, the cots
And leafless elms return the joyous sounds.
Through every homestall, and through every yard,
His midnight walks, panting, forlorn, he flies;
Through every hole he sneaks, through every jakes
Plunging he wades besmeared, and fondly hopes
In a superior stench to lose his own:
But faithful to the track, the unerring hounds
With peals of echoing vengeance close pursue.
_160
And now distressed, no sheltering covert near,
Into the hen-roost creeps, whose walls with gore
Distained attest his guilt. There, villain, there
Expect thy fate deserved. And soon from thence
The pack inquisitive, with clamour loud,
Drag out their trembling prize; and on his blood
With greedy transport feast. In bolder notes
Each sounding horn proclaims the felon dead:
And all the assembled village shouts for joy.
The farmer who beholds his mortal foe
_170
Stretched at his feet, applauds the glorious deed,
And grateful calls us to a short repast!
In the full glass the liquid amber smiles,
Our native product. And his good old mate
With choicest viands heaps the liberal board,
To crown our triumphs, and reward our toils.
Here must the instructive Muse (but with respect)
Censure that numerous pack, that crowd of state,
With which the vain profusion of the great
Covers the lawn, and shakes the trembling copse.
_180
Pompous incumbrance! A magnificence
Useless, vexatious! For the wily fox,
Safe in the increasing number of his foes,
Kens well the great advantage: slinks behind
And slily creeps through the same beaten track,
And hunts them step by step; then views escaped
With inward ecstasy, the panting throng
In their own footsteps puzzled, foiled and lost.
So when proud Eastern kings summon to arms
Their gaudy legions, from far distant climes
_190
They flock in crowds, unpeopling half a world:
But when the day of battle calls them forth
To charge the well-trained foe, a band compact
Of chosen veterans; they press blindly on,
In heaps confused, by their own weapons fall,
A smoking carnage scattered o'er the plain.
Nor hounds alone this noxious brood destroy:
The plundered warrener full many a wile
Devises to entrap his greedy foe,
Fat with nocturnal spoils. At close of day,
_200
With silence drags his trail; then from the ground
Pares thin the close-grazed turf, there with nice hand
Covers the latent death, with curious springs
Prepared to fly at once, whene'er the tread
Of man or beast unwarily shall press
The yielding surface. By the indented steel
With gripe tenacious held, the felon grins,
And struggles, but in vain: yet oft 'tis known,
When every art has failed, the captive fox
Has shared the wounded joint, and with a limb
_210
Compounded for his life. But if perchance
In the deep pitfall plunged, there's no escape;
But unreprieved he dies, and bleached in air
The jest of clowns, his reeking carcase hangs.
Of these are various kinds; not even the king
Of brutes evades this deep devouring grave:
But by the wily African betrayed,
Heedless of fate, within its gaping jaws
Expires indignant. When the orient beam
With blushes paints the dawn; and all the race
_220
Carnivorous, with blood full-gorged, retire
Into their darksome cells, there satiate snore
O'er dripping offals, and the mangled limbs
Of men and beasts; the painful forester 224
Climbs the high hills, whose proud aspiring tops,
With the tall cedar crowned, and taper fir,
Assail the clouds. There 'mong the craggy rocks,
And thickets intricate, trembling he views
His footsteps in the sand; the dismal road
And avenue to death. Hither he calls
_230
His watchful bands; and low into the ground
A pit they sink, full many a fathom deep.
Then in the midst a column high is reared,
The butt of some fair tree; upon whose top
A lamb is placed, just ravished from his dam.
And next a wall they build, with stones and earth
Encircling round, and hiding from all view
The dreadful precipice. Now when the shades
Of night hang lowering o'er the mountain's brow;
And hunger keen, and pungent thirst of blood,
_240
Rouse up the slothful beast, he shakes his sides,
Slow-rising from his lair, and stretches wide
His ravenous jaws, with recent gore distained.
The forests tremble, as he roars aloud,
Impatient to destroy. O'erjoyed he hears
The bleating innocent, that claims in vain
The shepherd's care, and seeks with piteous moan
The foodful teat; himself, alas! designed
Another's meal. For now the greedy brute
Winds him from far; and leaping o'er the mound
_250
To seize his trembling prey, headlong is plunged
Into the deep abyss. Prostrate he lies
Astunned and impotent. Ah! what avail
Thine eye-balls flashing fire, thy length of tail,
That lashes thy broad sides, thy jaws besmeared
With blood and offals crude, thy shaggy mane
The terror of the woods, thy stately port,
And bulk enormous, since by stratagem
Thy strength is foiled? Unequal is the strife,
When sovereign reason combats brutal rage.
_260
On distant Ethiopia's sun-burnt coasts,
The black inhabitants a pitfall frame,
But of a different kind, and different use.
With slender poles the wide capacious mouth,
And hurdles slight, they close; o'er these is spread
A floor of verdant turf, with all its flowers
Smiling delusive, and from strictest search
Concealing the deep grave that yawns below.
Then boughs of trees they cut, with tempting fruit
Of various kinds surcharged; the downy peach,
_270
The clustering vine, and of bright golden rind
The fragrant orange. Soon as evening gray
Advances slow, besprinkling all around
With kind refreshing dews the thirsty glebe,
The stately elephant from the close shade
With step majestic strides, eager to taste
The cooler breeze, that from the sea-beat shore
Delightful breathes, or in the limpid stream
To lave his panting sides; joyous he scents
The rich repast, unweeting of the death
_280
That lurks within. And soon he sporting breaks
The brittle boughs, and greedily devours
The fruit delicious. Ah! too dearly bought;
The price is life. For now the treacherous turf
Trembling gives way; and the unwieldy beast
Self-sinking, drops into the dark profound.
So when dilated vapours, struggling heave
The incumbent earth; if chance the caverned ground
Shrinking subside, and the thin surface yield,
Down sinks at once the ponderous dome, engulfed
_290
With all its towers. Subtle, delusive man!
How various are thy wiles! artful to kill
Thy savage foes, a dull unthinking race!
Fierce from his lair, springs forth the speckled pard,
Thirsting for blood, and eager to destroy;
The huntsman flies, but to his flight alone
Confides not: at convenient distance fixed,
A polished mirror stops in full career
The furious brute: he there his image views;
Spots against spots with rage improving glow;
_300
Another pard his bristly whiskers curls,
Grins as he grins, fierce-menacing, and wide
Distends his opening jaws; himself against
Himself opposed, and with dread vengeance armed.
The huntsman now secure, with fatal aim
Directs the pointed spear, by which transfixed
He dies, and with him dies the rival shade.
Thus man innumerous engines forms, to assail
The savage kind: but most the docile horse,
Swift and confederate with man, annoys
_310
His brethren of the plains; without whose aid
The hunter's arts are vain, unskilled to wage
With the more active brutes an equal war.
But borne by him, without the well-trained pack,
Man dares his foe, on wings of wind secure.
Him the fierce Arab mounts, and with his troop
Of bold compeers, ranges the deserts wild,
Where by the magnet's aid, the traveller
Steers his untrodden course; yet oft on land
Is wrecked, in the high-rolling waves of sand
_320
Immersed and lost; while these intrepid bands,
Safe in their horses' speed, out-fly the storm,
And scouring round, make men and beasts their prey.
The grisly boar is singled from his herd
As large as that in Erimanthian woods.
A match for Hercules. Round him they fly
In circles wide; and each in passing sends
His feathered death into his brawny sides.
But perilous the attempt. For if the steed
Haply too near approach; or the loose earth
_330
His footing fail; the watchful angry beast
The advantage spies; and at one sidelong glance
Rips up his groin. Wounded, he rears aloft,
And plunging, from his back the rider hurls
Precipitant; then bleeding spurns the ground,
And drags his reeking entrails o'er the plain.
Meanwhile the surly monster trots along,
But with unequal speed; for still they wound,
Swift-wheeling in the spacious ring. A wood
Of darts upon his back he bears; adown
_340
His tortured sides, the crimson torrents roll
From many a gaping font. And now at last
Staggering he falls, in blood and foam expires.
But whither roves my devious Muse, intent
On antique tales, while yet the royal stag
Unsung remains? Tread with respectful awe
Windsor's green glades; where Denham, tuneful bard,
Charmed once the listening dryads, with his song
Sublimely sweet. Oh! grant me, sacred shade,
To glean submiss what thy full sickle leaves.
_350
The morning sun that gilds with trembling rays
Windsor's high towers, beholds the courtly train
Mount for the chase, nor views in all his course
A scene so gay: heroic, noble youths,
In arts and arms renowned, and lovely nymphs
The fairest of this isle, where Beauty dwells
Delighted, and deserts her Paphian grove
For our more favoured shades: in proud parade
These shine magnificent, and press around
The royal happy pair. Great in themselves,
_360
They smile superior; of external show
Regardless, while their inbred virtues give
A lustre to their power, and grace their court
With real splendours, far above the pomp
Of eastern kings, in all their tinsel pride.
Like troops of Amazons, the female band
Prance round their cars, not in refulgent arms
As those of old; unskilled to wield the sword,
Or bend the bow, these kill with surer aim.
The royal offspring, fairest of the fair,
_370
Lead on the splendid train. Anna, more bright
Than summer suns, or as the lightning keen,
With irresistible effulgence armed,
Fires every heart. He must be more than man,
Who unconcerned can bear the piercing ray.
Amelia, milder than the blushing dawn,
With sweet engaging air, but equal power,
Insensibly subdues, and in soft chains
Her willing captives leads. Illustrious maids,
Ever triumphant! whose victorious charms,
_380
Without the needless aid of high descent,
Had awed mankind, and taught the world's great lords
To bow and sue for grace. But who is he
Fresh as a rose-bud newly blown, and fair
As opening lilies; on whom every eye
With joy and admiration dwells? See, see,
He reins his docile barb with manly grace.
Is it Adonis for the chase arrayed?
Or Britain's second hope? Hail, blooming youth![9]
May all your virtues with your years improve,
_390
Till in consumate worth, you shine the pride
Of these our days, and to succeeding times
A bright example. As his guard of mutes
On the great sultan wait, with eyes deject
And fixed on earth, no voice, no sound is heard
Within the wide serail, but all is hushed,
And awful silence reigns; thus stand the pack
Mute and unmoved, and cowering low to earth,
While pass the glittering court, and royal pair:
So disciplined those hounds, and so reserved,
_400
Whose honour 'tis to glad the hearts of kings.
But soon the winding horn, and huntsman's voice,
Let loose the general chorus; far around
Joy spreads its wings, and the gay morning smiles.
Unharboured now the royal stag forsakes
His wonted lair; he shakes his dappled sides,
And tosses high his beamy head, the copse
Beneath his antlers bends. What doubling shifts
He tries! not more the wily hare; in these
Would still persist, did not the full-mouthed pack
_410
With dreadful concert thunder in his rear.
The woods reply, the hunter's cheering shouts
Float through the glades, and the wide forest rings.
How merrily they chant! their nostrils deep
Inhale the grateful steam. Such is the cry,
And such the harmonious din, the soldier deems
The battle kindling, and the statesman grave
Forgets his weighty cares; each age, each sex
In the wild transport joins; luxuriant joy,
And pleasure in excess, sparkling exult
_420
On every brow, and revel unrestrained.
How happy art thou, man, when thou 'rt no more
Thyself! when all the pangs that grind thy soul,
In rapture and in sweet oblivion lost,
Yield a short interval, and ease from pain!
See the swift courser strains, his shining hoofs
Securely beat the solid ground. Who now
The dangerous pitfall fears, with tangling heath
High-overgrown? Or who the quivering bog
Soft yielding to the step? All now is plain,
_430
Plain as the strand sea-laved, that stretches far
Beneath the rocky shore. Glades crossing glades
The forest opens to our wondering view:
Such was the king's command. Let tyrants fierce
Lay waste the world; his the more glorious part
To check their pride; and when the brazen voice
Of war is hushed (as erst victorious Rome)
To employ his stationed legions in the works
Of peace; to smoothe the rugged wilderness,
To drain the stagnate fen, to raise the slope
_440
Depending road, and to make gay the face
Of nature, with the embellishments of art.
How melts my beating heart! as I behold
Each lovely nymph our island's boast and pride,
Push on the generous steed, that strokes along
O'er rough, o'er smooth, nor heeds the steepy hill,
Nor falters in the extended vale below:
Their garments loosely waving in the wind,
And all the flush of beauty in their cheeks!
While at their sides their pensive lovers wait,
_450
Direct their dubious course; now chilled with fear
Solicitous, and now with love inflamed.
Oh! grant, indulgent Heaven, no rising storm
May darken with black wings, this glorious scene!
Should some malignant power thus damp our joys,
Vain were the gloomy cave, such as of old
Betrayed to lawless love the Tyrian queen.
For Britain's virtuous nymphs are chaste as fair,
Spotless, unblamed, with equal triumph reign
In the dun gloom, as in the blaze of day.
_460
Now the blown stag, through woods, bogs, roads, and streams
Has measured half the forest; but alas!
He flies in vain, he flies not from his fears.
Though far he cast the lingering pack behind,
His haggard fancy still with horror views
The fell destroyer; still the fatal cry
Insults his ears, and wounds his trembling heart.
So the poor fury-haunted wretch (his hands
In guiltless blood distained) still seems to hear
The dying shrieks; and the pale threatening ghost
_470
Moves as he moves, and as he flies pursues.
See here his slot; up yon green hill he climbs,
Pants on its brow a while, sadly looks back
On his pursuers, covering all the plain;
But wrung with anguish, bears not long the sight,
Shoots down the steep, and sweats along the vale:
There mingles with the herd, where once he reigned
Proud monarch of the groves, whose clashing beam
His rivals awed, and whose exalted power
Was still rewarded with successful love.
_480
But the base herd have learned the ways of men,
Averse they fly, or with rebellious aim
Chase him from thence: needless their impious deed,
The huntsman knows him by a thousand marks,
Black, and embossed; nor are his hounds deceived;
Too well distinguish these, and never leave
Their once devoted foe; familiar grows
His scent, and strong their appetite to kill.
Again he flies, and with redoubled speed
Skims o'er the lawn; still the tenacious crew
_490
Hang on the track, aloud demand their prey,
And push him many a league. If haply then
Too far escaped, and the gay courtly train
Behind are cast, the huntsman's clanging whip
Stops full their bold career; passive they stand,
Unmoved, an humble, an obsequious crowd,
As if by stern Medusa gazed to stones.
So at their general's voice whole armies halt
In full pursuit, and check their thirst of blood.
Soon at the king's command, like hasty streams
_500
Dammed up a while, they foam, and pour along
With fresh-recruited might. The stag, who hoped
His foes were lost, now once more hears astunned
The dreadful din; he shivers every limb,
He starts, he bounds; each bush presents a foe.
Pressed by the fresh relay, no pause allowed,
Breathless, and faint, he falters in his pace,
And lifts his weary limbs with pain, that scarce
Sustain their load! he pants, he sobs appalled;
Drops down his heavy head to earth, beneath
_510
His cumbrous beams oppressed. But if perchance
Some prying eye surprise him; soon he rears
Erect his towering front, bounds o'er the lawn
With ill-dissembled vigour, to amuse
The knowing forester; who inly smiles
At his weak shifts, and unavailing frauds.
So midnight tapers waste their last remains,
Shine forth a while, and as they blaze expire.
From wood to wood redoubling thunders roll,
And bellow through the vales; the moving storm
_520
Thickens amain, and loud triumphant shouts,
And horns shrill-warbling in each glade, prelude
To his approaching fate. And now in view
With hobbling gait, and high, exerts amazed
What strength is left: to the last dregs of life
Reduced, his spirits fail, on every side
Hemmed in, besieged; not the least opening left
To gleaming hope, the unhappy's last reserve.
Where shall he turn? or whither fly? Despair
Gives courage to the weak. Resolved to die,
_530
He fears no more, but rushes on his foes,
And deals his deaths around; beneath his feet
These grovelling lie, those by his antlers gored
Defile the ensanguined plain. Ah! see distressed
He stands at bay against yon knotty trunk,
That covers well his rear, his front presents
An host of foes. Oh! shun, ye noble train,
The rude encounter, and believe your lives
Your country's due alone. As now aloof
They wing around, he finds his soul upraised
_540
To dare some great exploit; he charges home
Upon the broken pack, that on each side
Fly diverse; then as o'er the turf he strains,
He vents the cooling stream, and up the breeze
Urges his course with eager violence:
Then takes the soil, and plunges in the flood
Precipitant; down the mid-stream he wafts
Along, till (like a ship distressed, that runs
Into some winding creek) close to the verge
Of a small island, for his weary feet
_550
Sure anchorage he finds, there skulks immersed.
His nose alone above the wave draws in
The vital air; all else beneath the flood
Concealed, and lost, deceives each prying eye
Of man or brute. In vain the crowding pack
Draw on the margin of the stream, or cut
The liquid wave with oary feet, that move
In equal time. The gliding waters leave
No trace behind, and his contracted pores
But sparingly perspire: the huntsman strains
_560
His labouring lungs, and puffs his cheeks in vain;
At length a blood-hound bold, studious to kill,
And exquisite of sense, winds him from far;
Headlong he leaps into the flood, his mouth
Loud opening spends amain, and his wide throat
Swells every note with joy; then fearless dives
Beneath the wave, hangs on his haunch, and wounds
The unhappy brute, that flounders in the stream,
Sorely distressed, and struggling strives to mount
The steepy shore. Haply once more escaped,
_570
Again he stands at bay, amid the groves
Of willows, bending low their downy heads.
Outrageous transport fires the greedy pack;
These swim the deep, and those crawl up with pain
The slippery bank, while others on firm land
Engage; the stag repels each bold assault,
Maintains his post, and wounds for wounds returns.
As when some wily corsair boards a ship
Full-freighted, or from Afric's golden coasts,
Or India's wealthy strand, his bloody crew
_580
Upon her deck he slings; these in the deep
Drop short, and swim to reach her steepy sides,
And clinging, climb aloft; while those on board
Urge on the work of fate; the master bold,
Pressed to his last retreat, bravely resolves
To sink his wealth beneath the whelming wave,
His wealth, his foes, nor unrevenged to die.
So fares it with the stag: so he resolves
To plunge at once into the flood below,
Himself, his foes in one deep gulf immersed.
_590
Ere yet he executes this dire intent,
In wild disorder once more views the light;
Beneath a weight of woe, he groans distressed:
The tears run trickling down his hairy cheeks;
He weeps, nor weeps in vain. The king beholds
His wretched plight, and tenderness innate
Moves his great soul. Soon at his high command
Rebuked, the disappointed, hungry pack
Retire submiss, and grumbling quit their prey.
Great Prince! from thee, what may thy subjects hope;
_600
So kind, and so beneficent to brutes?
O mercy, heavenly born! Sweet attribute!
Thou great, thou best prerogative of power!
Justice may guard the throne, but joined with thee,
On rocks of adamant it stands secure,
And braves the storm beneath; soon as thy smiles
Gild the rough deep, the foaming waves subside,
And all the noisy tumult sinks in peace.
BOOK IV.
THE ARGUMENT.
Of the necessity of destroying some beasts, and preserving others for the use of man.—Of breeding of hounds; the season for this business.—The choice of the dog, of great moment.—Of the litter of whelps.—Number to be reared.—Of setting them out to their several walks.—Care to be taken to prevent their hunting too soon.—Of entering the whelps.—Of breaking them from running at sheep.-Of the diseases of hounds.-Of their age.—Of madness; two sorts of it described, the dumb, and outrageous madness: its dreadful effects.—Burning of the wound recommended as preventing all ill consequences.—The infectious hounds to be separated, and fed apart.—The vanity of trusting to the many infallible cures for this malady.—The dismal effects of the biting of a mad dog, upon man, described. —Description of the otter hunting.—The conclusion.
Whate'er of earth is formed, to earth returns
Dissolved: the various objects we behold,
Plants, animals, this whole material mass,
Are ever changing, ever new. The soul
Of man alone, that particle divine,
Escapes the wreck of worlds, when all things fail.
Hence great the distance 'twixt the beasts that perish,
And God's bright image, man's immortal race.
The brute creation are his property,
Subservient to his will, and for him made.
_10
As hurtful these he kills, as useful those
Preserves; their sole and arbitrary king.
Should he not kill, as erst the Samian sage
Taught unadvised, and Indian Brahmins now
As vainly preach; the teeming ravenous brutes
Might fill the scanty space of this terrene,
Encumbering all the globe: should not his care
Improve his growing stock, their kinds might fail,
Man might once more on roots, and acorns, feed,
And through the deserts range, shivering, forlorn,
_20
Quite destitute of every solace dear,
And every smiling gaiety of life.
The prudent huntsman, therefore, will supply,
With annual large recruits, his broken pack,
And propagate their kind. As from the root
Fresh scions still spring forth, and daily yield
New blooming honours to the parent-tree;
Far shall his pack be famed, far sought his breed,
And princes at their tables feast those hounds
His hand presents, an acceptable boon.
_30
Ere yet the Sun through the bright Ram has urged
His steepy course, or mother Earth unbound
Her frozen bosom to the western gale;
When feathered troops, their social leagues dissolved,
Select their mates, and on the leafless elm
The noisy rook builds high her wicker nest;
Mark well the wanton females of thy pack,
That curl their taper tails, and frisking court
Their pyebald mates enamoured; their red eyes
Flash fires impure; nor rest, nor food they take,
_40
Goaded by furious love. In separate cells
Confine them now, lest bloody civil wars
Annoy thy peaceful state. If left at large,
The growling rivals in dread battle join,
And rude encounter. On Scamander's streams
Heroes of old with far less fury fought,
For the bright Spartan dame, their valour's prize.
Mangled and torn thy favourite hounds shall lie,
Stretched on the ground; thy kennel shall appear
A field of blood: like some unhappy town
_50
In civil broils confused, while Discord shakes
Her bloody scourge aloft, fierce parties rage,
Staining their impious hands in mutual death.
And still the best beloved, and bravest fall:
Such are the dire effects of lawless love.
Huntsman! these ills by timely prudent care
Prevent: for every longing dame select
Some happy paramour; to him alone
In leagues connubial join. Consider well
His lineage; what his fathers did of old,
_60
Chiefs of the pack, and first to climb the rock,
Or plunge into the deep, or thread the brake
With thorns sharp-pointed, plashed, and briers inwoven.
Observe with care his shape, sort, colour, size.
Nor will sagacious huntsmen less regard
His inward habits: the vain babbler shun,
Ever loquacious, ever in the wrong.
His foolish offspring shall offend thy ears
With false alarms, and loud impertinence.
Nor less the shifting cur avoid, that breaks
_70
Illusive from the pack; to the next hedge
Devious he strays, there every mews he tries:
If haply then he cross the steaming scent,
Away he flies vain-glorious; and exults
As of the pack supreme, and in his speed
And strength unrivalled. Lo! cast far behind
His vexed associates pant, and labouring strain
To climb the steep ascent. Soon as they reach
The insulting boaster, his false courage fails,
Behind he lags, doomed to the fatal noose,
_80
His master's hate, and scorn of all the field.
What can from such be hoped, but a base brood
Of coward curs, a frantic, vagrant race?
When now the third revolving moon appears,
With sharpened horns, above the horizon's brink;
Without Lucina's aid, expect thy hopes
Are amply crowned; short pangs produce to light
The smoking litter; crawling, helpless, blind,
Nature their guide, they seek the pouting teat
That plenteous streams. Soon as the tender dam
_90
Has formed them with her tongue, with pleasure view
The marks of their renowned progenitors,
Sure pledge of triumphs yet to come. All these
Select with joy; but to the merciless flood
Expose the dwindling refuse, nor o'erload
The indulgent mother. If thy heart relent,
Unwilling to destroy, a nurse provide,
And to the foster-parent give the care
Of thy superfluous brood; she'll cherish kind
The alien offspring; pleased thou shalt behold
_100
Her tenderness, and hospitable love.
If frolic now, and playful they desert
Their gloomy cell, and on the verdant turf
With nerves improved, pursue the mimic chase,
Coursing around; unto thy choicest friends
Commit thy valued prize: the rustic dames
Shall at thy kennel wait, and in their laps
Receive thy growing hopes, with many a kiss
Caress, and dignify their little charge
With some great title, and resounding name
_110
Of high import. But cautious here observe
To check their youthful ardour, nor permit
The unexperienced younker, immature,
Alone to range the woods, or haunt the brakes
Where dodging conies sport: his nerves unstrung,
And strength unequal; the laborious chase
Shall stint his growth, and his rash forward youth
Contract such vicious habits, as thy care
And late correction never shall reclaim.
When to full strength arrived, mature and bold,
_120
Conduct them to the field; not all at once
But as thy cooler prudence shall direct,
Select a few, and form them by degrees
To stricter discipline. With these consort
The stanch and steady sages of thy pack,
By long experience versed in all the wiles,
And subtle doublings of the various chase.
Easy the lesson of the youthful train,
When instinct prompts, and when example guides.
If the too forward younker at the head
_130
Press boldly on, in wanton sportive mood,
Correct his haste, and let him feel abashed
The ruling whip. But if he stoop behind
In wary modest guise, to his own nose
Confiding sure; give him full scope to work
His winding way, and with thy voice applaud
His patience, and his care; soon shalt thou view
The hopeful pupil leader of his tribe,
And all the listening pack attend his call.
Oft lead them forth where wanton lambkins play,
_140
And bleating dams with jealous eyes observe
Their tender care. If at the crowding flock
He bay presumptuous, or with eager haste
Pursue them scattered o'er the verdant plain;
In the foul fact attached, to the strong ram
Tie fast the rash offender. See! at first
His horned companion, fearful, and amazed,
Shall drag him trembling o'er the rugged ground;
Then with his load fatigued, shall turn a-head,
And with his curled hard front incessant peal
_150
The panting wretch; till breathless and astunned,
Stretched on the turf he lie. Then spare not thou
The twining whip, but ply his bleeding sides
Lash after lash, and with thy threatening voice,
Harsh-echoing from the hills, inculcate loud
His vile offence. Sooner shall trembling doves
Escaped the hawk's sharp talons, in mid air,
Assail their dangerous foe, than he once more
Disturb the peaceful flocks. In tender age
Thus youth is trained; as curious artists bend
_160
The taper, pliant twig; or potters form
Their soft and ductile clay to various shapes.
Nor is't enough to breed; but to preserve
Must be the huntsman's care. The stanch old hounds
Guides of thy pack, though but in number few,
Are yet of great account; shall oft untie
The Gordian knot, when reason at a stand
Puzzling is lost, and all thy art is vain.
O'er clogging fallows, o'er dry plastered roads,
O'er floated meads, o'er plains with flocks distained
_170
Rank-scenting, these must lead the dubious way.
As party-chiefs in senates who preside,
With pleaded reason and with well turned speech
Conduct the staring multitude; so these
Direct the pack, who with joint cry approve,
And loudly boast discoveries not their own.
Unnumbered accidents, and various ills,
Attend thy pack, hang hovering o'er their heads,
And point the way that leads to Death's dark cave.
Short is their span; few at the date arrive
Of ancient Argus in old Homer's song
_180
So highly honoured: kind, sagacious brute!
Not even Minerva's wisdom could conceal
Thy much-loved master from thy nicer sense.
Dying, his lord he owned, viewed him all o'er
With eager eyes, then closed those eyes, well pleased.
Of lesser ills the Muse declines to sing,
Nor stoops so low; of these each groom can tell
The proper remedy. But oh! what care!
What prudence can prevent madness, the worst
Of maladies? Terrific pest! that blasts
_190
The huntsman's hopes, and desolation spreads
Through all the unpeopled kennel unrestrained.
More fatal than the envenomed viper's bite;
Or that Apulian[10] spider's poisonous sting,
Healed by the pleasing antidote of sounds.
When Sirius reigns, and the sun's parching beams
Bake the dry gaping surface, visit thou
Each even and morn, with quick observant eye,
Thy panting pack. If in dark sullen mood,
The gloating hound refuse his wonted meal,
_200
Retiring to some close, obscure retreat,
Gloomy, disconsolate: with speed remove
The poor infectious wretch, and in strong chains
Bind him suspected. Thus that dire disease
Which art can't cure, wise caution may prevent.
But this neglected, soon expect a change,
A dismal change, confusion, frenzy, death.
Or in some dark recess the senseless brute
Sits sadly pining: deep melancholy,
And black despair, upon his clouded brow
_210
Hang lowering; from his half-opening jaws
The clammy venom, and infectious froth,
Distilling fall; and from his lungs inflamed,
Malignant vapours taint the ambient air,
Breathing perdition: his dim eyes are glazed,
He droops his pensive head, his trembling limbs
No more support his weight; abject he lies,
Dumb, spiritless, benumbed; till death at last
Gracious attends, and kindly brings relief.
Or if outrageous grown, behold alas!
_220
A yet more dreadful scene; his glaring eye
Redden with fury, like some angry boar
Churning he foams; and on his back erect
His pointed bristles rise; his tail incurved
He drops, and with harsh broken bowlings rends
The poison-tainted air, with rough hoarse voice
Incessant bays; and snuff's the infectious breeze;
This way and that he stares aghast, and starts
At his own shade; jealous, as if he deemed
The world his foes. If haply toward the stream
_230
He cast his roving eye, cold horror chills
His soul; averse he flies, trembling, appalled.
Now frantic to the kennel's utmost verge
Raving he runs, and deals destruction round.
The pack fly diverse; for whate'er he meets
Vengeful he bites, and every bite is death.
If now perchance through the weak fence escaped,
Far up the wind he roves, with open mouth
Inhales the cooling breeze, nor man, nor beast
He spares, implacable. The hunter-horse,
_240
Once kind associate of his sylvan toils,
(Who haply now without the kennel's mound
Crops the rank mead, and listening hears with joy
The cheering cry, that morn and eve salutes
His raptured sense) a wretched victim falls.
Unhappy quadruped! no more, alas!
Shall thy fond master with his voice applaud
Thy gentleness, thy speed; or with his hand
Stroke thy soft dappled sides, as he each day
Visits thy stall, well pleased; no more shalt thou
_250
With sprightly neighings, to the winding horn
And the loud opening pack in concert joined,
Glad his proud heart. For oh! the secret wound
Rankling inflames, he bites the ground and dies.
Hence to the village with pernicious haste
Baleful he bends his course: the village flies
Alarmed; the tender mother in her arms
Hugs close the trembling babe; the doors are barred,
And flying curs, by native instinct taught,
Shun the contagious bane; the rustic bands
_260
Hurry to arms, the rude militia seize
Whate'er at hand they find; clubs, forks, or guns
From every quarter charge the furious foe,
In wild disorder, and uncouth array:
Till now with wounds on wounds oppressed and gored,
At one short poisonous gasp he breathes his last.
Hence to the kennel, Muse, return, and view
With heavy heart that hospital of woe:
Where Horror stalks at large; insatiate Death
Sits growling o'er his prey: each hour presents
_270
A different scene of ruin and distress.
How busy art thou, Fate! and how severe
Thy pointed wrath! the dying and the dead
Promiscuous lie; o'er these the living fight
In one eternal broil; not conscious why,
Nor yet with whom. So drunkards in their cups,
Spare not their friends, while senseless squabble reigns.
Huntsman! it much behoves thee to avoid
The perilous debate! Ah! rouse up all
Thy vigilance, and tread the treacherous ground
_280
With careful step. Thy fires unquenched preserve,
As erst the vestal flame; the pointed steel
In the hot embers hide; and if surprised
Thou feel'st the deadly bite, quick urge it home
Into the recent sore, and cauterise
The wound; spare not thy flesh, nor dread the event:
Vulcan shall save when Aesculapius fails.
Here, should the knowing Muse recount the means
To stop this growing plague. And here, alas!
Each hand presents a sovereign cure, and boasts
_290
Infallibility, but boasts in vain.
On this depend, each to his separate seat
Confine, in fetters bound; give each his mess
Apart, his range in open air; and then
If deadly symptoms to thy grief appear,
Devote the wretch, and let him greatly fall,
A generous victim for the public weal.
Sing, philosophic Muse, the dire effects
Of this contagious bite on hapless man.
The rustic swains, by long tradition taught
_300
Of leeches old, as soon as they perceive
The bite impressed, to the sea-coasts repair.
Plunged in the briny flood, the unhappy youth
Now journeys home secure; but soon shall wish
The seas as yet had covered him beneath
The foaming surge, full many a fathom deep.
A fate more dismal, and superior ills
Hang o'er his head devoted. When the moon,
Closing her monthly round, returns again
To glad the night; or when full orbed she shines
_310
High in the vault of heaven; the lurking pest
Begins the dire assault. The poisonous foam,
Through the deep wound instilled with hostile rage,
And all its fiery particles saline,
Invades the arterial fluid; whose red waves
Tempestuous heave, and their cohesion broke,
Fermenting boil; intestine war ensues,
And order to confusion turns embroiled.
Now the distended vessels scarce contain
The wild uproar, but press each weaker part,
_320
Unable to resist: the tender brain
And stomach suffer most; convulsions shake
His trembling nerves, and wandering pungent pains
Pinch sore the sleepless wretch; his fluttering pulse
Oft intermits; pensive, and sad, he mourns
His cruel fate, and to his weeping friends
Laments in vain; to hasty anger prone,
Resents each slight offence, walks with quick step,
And wildly stares; at last with boundless sway
The tyrant frenzy reigns. For as the dog
_330
(Whose fatal bite conveyed the infectious bane)
Raving he foams, and howls, and barks, and bites.
Like agitations in his boiling blood
Present like species to his troubled mind;
His nature, and his actions all canine.
So as (old Homer sung) the associates wild
Of wandering Ithacus, by Circe's charms
To swine transformed, ran grunting through the groves.
Dreadful example to a wicked world!
See there distressed he lies! parched up with thirst,
_340
But dares not drink. Till now at last his soul
Trembling escapes, her noisome dungeon leaves,
And to some purer region wings away.
One labour yet remains, celestial Maid!
Another element demands thy song.
No more o'er craggy steeps, through coverts thick
With pointed thorn, and briers intricate,
Urge on with horn and voice the painful pack
But skim with wanton wing the irriguous vale,
Where winding streams amid the flowery meads
_350
Perpetual glide along; and undermine
The caverned banks, by the tenacious roots
Of hoary willows arched; gloomy retreat
Of the bright scaly kind; where they at will,
On the green watery reed their pasture graze,
Suck the moist soil, or slumber at their ease,
Rocked by the restless brook, that draws aslope
Its humid train, and laves their dark abodes.
Where rages not oppression? Where, alas!
Is innocence secure? Rapine and spoil
_360
Haunt even the lowest deeps; seas have their sharks,
Rivers and ponds inclose the ravenous pike;
He in his turn becomes a prey; on him
The amphibious otter feasts. Just is his fate
Deserved; but tyrants know no bounds; nor spears
That bristle on his back, defend the perch
From his wide greedy jaws; nor burnished mail
The yellow carp; nor all his arts can save
The insinuating eel, that hides his head
Beneath the slimy mud; nor yet escapes
_370
The crimson-spotted trout, the river's pride,
And beauty of the stream. Without remorse,
This midnight pillager ranging around,
Insatiate swallows all. The owner mourns
The unpeopled rivulet, and gladly hears
The huntsman's early call, and sees with joy
The jovial crew, that march upon its banks
In gay parade, with bearded lances armed.
This subtle spoiler of the beaver kind,
Far off, perhaps, where ancient alders shade
The deep still pool; within some hollow trunk
_380
Contrives his wicker couch: whence he surveys
His long purlieu, lord of the stream, and all
The finny shoals his own. But you, brave youths,
Dispute the felon's claim; try every root,
And every reedy bank; encourage all
The busy-spreading pack, that fearless plunge
Into the flood, and cross the rapid stream.
Bid rocks and caves, and each resounding shore,
Proclaim your bold defiance; loudly raise
_390
Each cheering voice, till distant hills repeat
The triumphs of the vale. On the soft sand
See there his seal impressed! and on that bank
Behold the glittering spoils, half-eaten fish,
Scales, fins, and bones, the leavings of his feast.
Ah! on that yielding sag-bed, see, once more
His seal I view. O'er yon dank rushy marsh
The sly goose-footed prowler bends his course,
And seeks the distant shallows. Huntsman, bring
Thy eager pack; and trail him to his couch.
_400
Hark! the loud peal begins, the clamorous joy,
The gallant chiding, loads the trembling air.
Ye Naiads fair, who o'er these floods preside,
Raise up your dripping heads above the wave,
And hear our melody. The harmonious notes
Float with the stream; and every winding creek
And hollow rock, that o'er the dimpling flood
Nods pendant; still improve from shore to shore
Our sweet reiterated joys. What shouts!
What clamour loud! What gay heart-cheering sounds
_410
Urge through, the breathing brass their mazy way!
Nor choirs of Tritons glad with sprightlier strains
The dancing billows, when proud Neptune rides
In triumph o'er the deep. How greedily
They snuff the fishy steam, that to each blade
Rank-scenting clings! See! how the morning dews
They sweep, that from their feet besprinkling drop
Dispersed, and leave a track oblique behind.
Now on firm land they range; then in the flood
They plunge tumultuous; or through reedy pools
_420
Rustling they work their way: no holt escapes
Their curious search. With quick sensation now
The fuming vapour stings; flutter their hearts,
And joy redoubled bursts from every mouth
In louder symphonies. Yon hollow trunk,
That with its hoary head incurved, salutes
The passing wave, must be the tyrant's fort,
And dread abode. How these impatient climb,
While others at the root incessant bay:
They put him down. See, there he dives along!
_430
The ascending bubbles mark his gloomy way.
Quick fix the nets, and cut off his retreat
Into the sheltering deeps. Ah, there he vents!
The pack lunge headlong, and protended spears
Menace destruction: while the troubled surge
Indignant foams, and all the scaly kind
Affrighted, hide their heads. Wild tumult reigns,
And loud uproar. Ah, there once more he vents!
See, that bold hound has seized him; down they sink,
Together lost: but soon shall he repent
_440
His rash assault. See there escaped, he flies
Half-drowned, and clambers up the slippery bank
With ouze and blood distained. Of all the brutes,
Whether by Nature formed, or by long use,
This artful diver best can bear the want
Of vital air. Unequal is the fight,
Beneath the whelming element. Yet there
He lives not long; but respiration needs
At proper intervals. Again he vents;
Again the crowd attack. That spear has pierced
_450
His neck; the crimson waves confess the wound.
Fixed is the bearded lance, unwelcome guest,
Where'er he flies; with him it sinks beneath,
With him it mounts; sure guide to every foe.
Inly he groans; nor can his tender wound
Bear the cold stream. Lo! to yon sedgy bank
He creeps disconsolate; his numerous foes
Surround him, hounds and men. Pierced through and through,
On pointed spears they lift him high in air;
Wriggling he hangs, and grins, and bites in vain:
_460
Bid the loud horns, in gaily warbling strains,
Proclaim the felon's fate; he dies, he dies.
Rejoice, ye scaly tribes, and leaping dance
Above the wave, in sign of liberty
Restored; the cruel tyrant is no more.
Rejoice, secure and blessed; did not as yet
Remain, some of your own rapacious kind;
And man, fierce man, with all his various wiles.
O happy, if ye knew your happy state,
Ye rangers of the fields! whom Nature boon
_470
Cheers with her smiles, and every element
Conspires to bless. What, if no heroes frown
From marble pedestals; nor Raphael's works,
Nor Titian's lively tints, adorn our walls?
Yet these the meanest of us may behold;
And at another's cost may feast at will
Our wondering eyes; what can the owner more?
But vain, alas! is wealth, not graced with power.
The flowery landscape, and the gilded dome,
And vistas opening to the wearied eye,
_480
Through all his wide domain; the planted grove,
The shrubby wilderness with its gay choir
Of warbling birds, can't lull to soft repose
The ambitious wretch, whose discontented soul
Is harrowed day and night; he mourns, he pines,
Until his prince's favour makes him great.
See, there he comes, the exalted idol comes!
The circle's formed, and all his fawning slaves
Devoutly bow to earth; from every mouth
The nauseous flattery flows, which he returns
_490
With promises, that die as soon as born.
Vile intercourse! where virtue has no place.
Frown but the monarch; all his glories fade;
He mingles with the throng, outcast, undone,
The pageant of a day; without one friend
To soothe his tortured mind; all, all are fled.
For though they basked in his meridian ray,
The insects vanish, as his beams decline.
Not such our friends; for here no dark design,
No wicked interest bribes the venal heart;
_500
But inclination to our bosom leads,
And weds them there for life; our social cups
Smile, as we smile; open, and unreserved.
We speak our inmost souls; good humour, mirth,
Soft complaisance, and wit from malice free,
Smoothe every brow, and glow on every cheek.
O happiness sincere! what wretch would groan
Beneath the galling load of power, or walk
Upon the slippery pavements of the great,
Who thus could reign, unenvied and secure?
_510
Ye guardian powers who make mankind your care,
Give me to know wise Nature's hidden depths,
Trace each mysterious cause, with judgment read
The expanded volume, and submiss adore
That great creative Will, who at a word
Spoke forth the wondrous scene. But if my soul
To this gross clay confined, flutters on earth
With less ambitious wing; unskilled to range
From orb to orb, where Newton leads the way;
And view with piercing eyes, the grand machine,
_520
Worlds above worlds; subservient to his voice,
Who veiled in clouded majesty, alone
Gives light to all; bids the great system move,
And changeful seasons in their turns advance,
Unmoved, unchanged himself; yet this at least
Grant me propitious, an inglorious life,
Calm and serene, nor lost in false pursuits
Of wealth or honours; but enough to raise
My drooping friends, preventing modest want
That dares not ask. And if to crown my joys,
_530
Ye grant me health, that, ruddy in my cheeks,
Blooms in my life's decline; fields, woods, and streams,
Each towering hill, each humble vale below,
Shall hear my cheering voice, my hounds shall wake
The lazy morn, and glad the horizon round.
END OF SOMERVILLE'S CHASE.
[Footnote 1: In republishing only the "Chase" of Somerville and "the Fables" of Gay, we have acted on the principle of selecting the best, and the most characteristic, in our age, perhaps the only readable specimen of either poet.]
[Footnote 2: 'Great Prince:' Prince Frederick. Our readers will remember the humorous epitaph on him, in edifying contrast to Somerville's praise:—
'Here lies Fred,
Who was alive, and is dead:
If it had been his father,
I'd much rather;
Had it been his mother,
Better than another;
Were it his sister,
Nobody would have miss'd her;
Were it the whole generation,
The better for the nation.
But since it's only Fred,
There's no more to be said,
But that he was alive, and is dead.'
We quote this from recollection of Thackeray's recitation, but think it pretty accurate.]
[Footnote 3: 'Neustria:' Normandy.]
[Footnote 4: 'Fountain of light,' &c. Scott as well as Somerville loved to write in brilliant sunshine.]
[Footnote 6: 'Talbot kind:' Derived, we think, from the famous John Talbot, the first Earl of Shrewsbury, who employed this species of hound against the Irish rebels.]
[Footnote 7: 'Aurengzebe:' in 1659, seized the throne of India, after murdering his relatives, but became a good, wise, and brave emperor.]
[Footnote 8: 'Ammon's son:' Alexander the Great.]
[Footnote 9: 'Blooming youth:' Fred again.]
[Footnote 10: 'Apulia:' now Puglia, the south-eastern part of Italy.]