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,
Casting down her large bright eyes;
With blushing cheek and courtesy fine,
She turn’d her from Sir Leoline;
Softly gathering up her train,
That o’er her right arm fell again;
And folded her arms across her chest,
And couch’d her head upon her breast.
And look’d askance at Christabel —
Jesu, Maria, shield her well!
Then takes place that extraordinary change which, being read in a party at Lord Byron’s, is said to have caused Shelley to faint:
A snake’s small eye blinks dull and shy,
And the lady’s eyes, they shrunk in her head,
Each shrunk up to a serpent’s eye,
And with somewhat of malice, and more of dread
At Christabel she looked askance! —
One moment, — and the sight was fled!
But Christabel in dizzy trance,
Stumbling on the unsteady ground —
Shudder’d aloud, with a hissing sound;
And Geraldine again turn’d round,
And like a thing, that sought relief,
Full of wonder and full of grief;
She roll’d her large bright eyes divine,
Wildly on Sir Leoline.
The maid, alas! her thoughts are gone,
She nothing sees — no sight but one!
The look, those shrunken serpent eyes, had made such a deep impression on Christabel,
That all her features were resign’d
To the sole image in her mind:
And passively did imitate
That look of dull and treacherous hate.
And thus she stood in dizzy trance,
Still picturing that look askance.
But when the trance was o’er, the maid
Paus’d awhile and inly pray’d,
”By my mother’s soul do I entreat
That thou this woman send away!”
She said, and more she could not say,
For what she knew she could not tell
O’er master’d by the mighty spell.
The poet now describes the Baron as suffering under the confused emotions of love for Christabel, and anger at her apparent jealousy, and the insult offered to the daughter of his friend, which so wrought upon him that,
He roll’d his eye with stern regard
Upon the gentle minstrel bard,
And said in tones abrupt, austere —
”Why, Bracy? dost thou loiter here?
”I bade thee hence!” The bard obey’d,
And turning from his own sweet maid,
The aged knight, Sir Leoline
Led forth the lady Geraldine!
Here ends the second canto.
In the conclusion to the second canto, he speaks of a child and its father’s fondness, so often expressed by “you little rogue,” “ you little rascal,” with an endearing kiss, says:
A little child, a limber elf,
Singing, dancing to itself;
A fairy thing with red round cheeks,
That always finds and never seeks;
Makes such a vision to the sight,
As fills a father’s eyes with light;
And pleasures flow in so thick and fast
Upon his heart, that he at last
Must needs express his love’s excess,