Of these great rivals, Gondibert was he whom the king had destined for his son-in-law, and the heir of his throne; and Rhodalind too, in the privacy of her own breast, had made the same choice. This is related in a manner little inferior to Shakespear’s famous description of concealed love. Yet sadly it is sung, that she in shades, Mildly as mourning doves, love’s sorrows felt; Whilst in her secret tears, her freshness fades, As roses silently in lymbecks melt. Gondibert, however, though of a nature by no means unsusceptible of the tender passion, had not as yet felt it for a particular object; and Oswald, who stood forth as the public suitor to the princess, was incited by no other motive than ambition. Not Rhodalind herself (says the poet) Could he affect, but shining in her throne. His cause was powerfully pleaded with the princess by his sister Gartha, with whom we are next brought acquainted. A bold, full, majestic beauty; and a corresponding mind, high, restless, and aspiring, are her distinguishing features. The prince and duke were urged on to ambitious pursuits by their respective armies, which, just returned from conquest, lay encamped, the one at Brescia, and the other at Bergamo. That of Gondibert was composed of hardy youth whom he had selected from his father’s camp, and educated in martial discipline under his own inspection. Temperance, chastity, vigilance, humanity, and all the high virtues of chivalry, remarkably distinguish these young soldiers from those of later times. Beauty, indeed, commanded no less regard amongst them than in a modern camp; but it was an object of passion, and not of appetite; and was the powerful engine in their education which inspired them with noble and exalted sentiments. This is an idea on which our author, true to the principles of chivalry, very frequently enlarges, and always with peculiar force and dignity. In the present instance it is thus finely expressed: But, though the Duke taught rigid discipline, He let them beauty thus at distance know; As priests discover some more sacred shrine, Which none must touch, yet all to it may bow. When thus, as suitors, mourning virgins pass Thro’ their clean camp, themselves in form they draw, That they with martial reverence may grace Beauty, the stranger, which they seldom saw. They vayl’d their ensigns as it by did move, Whilst inward, as from native conscience, all Worship’d the poet’s darling godhead, Love; Which grave philosophers did Nature call. Indeed, the influence of this passion in its purest and most exalted state during the course of education, is a subject that might, perhaps, shine as much in the hands of a moralist as of a poet. The soldiers of Oswald were his father’s brave veterans, in whose arms he had been bred. The story thus opened, and our attention awakened to the expectation of important events, the first canto is closed.