On the invasion of Hungary by Solyman, in 1532, the emperor repaired to Vienna to undertake the war in person. The campaign was carried on without any action of moment; but Garcilaso was engaged in various skirmishes, and saw enough of war to fill him with horror at its results. At this time, however, he fell into disgrace at court. One of his cousins, a son of don Pedro Lasso, aspired clandestinely to the hand of donna Isabel, daughter of don Luis de la Cueva, maid of honour to the empress. We are ignorant of the reason wherefore Charles was opposed to this marriage, and the consequent necessity of carrying on the amour secretly. Garcilaso befriended the lovers. The intrigue being discovered, the emperor was highly incensed; he banished the cousin, and exiled Garcilaso to an island of the Danube, an imprisonment which he commemorates in an ode, of which we may quote some stanzas from Mr. Wiffen's translation, which characterise the disposition of the man; no courtier or man of the world he, repining at disgrace and disappointment; but a poet, ready to find joy in solitude, and to adorn adversity with the rainbow hues of the imagination. "TO THE DANUBE. With the mild sound of clear swift waves, the Danube's arms of foam Circle a verdant isle which peace has made her chosen home; Where the fond poet might repair from weariness and strife, And in the sunshine of sweet song consume his happy life. Here evermore the smiling spring goes scattering odorous flowers, And nightingales and turtle doves, in depth of myrtle bowers, Turn disappointment into hope, turn sadness to delight, With magic of their fond laments, which cease not day nor night. Here am I placed, or sooth to say, alone, 'neath foreign skies, Forced in arrest, and easy 'tis in such a paradise To force a meditative man, whose own desires would doom Himself with pleasure to a world all redolence and bloom. One thought alone distresses me, if I whilst banished sink 'Midst such misfortunes to the grave, lest haply they should think It was my complicated ills that caused my death, while I Know well that if I die 'twill be because I wish to die. * * * * * River divine, rich Danube! thou the bountiful and strong, That through fierce nations roll'st thy waves rejoicingly along, Since only but by rushing through thy drowning billows deep, These scrolls can hence escape to tell the noble words I weep. If wrecked in undeciphered loss on some far foreign land, They should by any chance be found upon the desert sand, Since they upon thy willowed shore must drift, where'er they are, Their relics let the kind blue waves with murmured hymns inter. Ode of my melancholy hours! last infant of my lyre! Although in booming waves it be thy fortune to expire, Grieve not, since I, howe'er from holy rites debarred, Have seen to all that touches thee with catholic regard. Less, less had been thy life, if thou hadst been but ranked among Those without record, that have risen and died upon my tongue;