75 War, the world's art, nature to them became; In camps begot, born, and in anger bred; The living vexed till death, and then their fame, Because even fame some life is to the dead. 76 Cities, wise statesmen's folds for civil sheep, They sacked, as painful shearers of the wise; For they like careful wolves would lose their sleep, When others' prosperous toils might be their prize. 77 Hugo amongst these troops spied many more, Who had, as brave destroyers, got renown; And many forward wounds in boast they wore, Which, if not well revenged, had ne'er been shown. 78 Such the bold leaders of these lancers were, Which of the Brescian veterans did consist; Whose practised age might charge of armies bear, And claim some rank in Fame's eternal list. 79 Back to his Duke the dexterous Hugo flies, What he observed he cheerfully declares; With noble pride did what he liked despise; For wounds he threatened whilst he praised their scars. 80 Lord Arnold cried, 'Vain is the bugle-horn, Where trumpets men to manly work invite! That distant summons seems to say, in scorn, We hunters may be hunted hard ere night.' 81 'Those beasts are hunted hard that hard can fly,' Replied aloud the noble Hurgonil; 'But we, not used to flight, know best to die; And those who know to die, know how to kill. 82 'Victors through number never gained applause; If they exceed our count in arms and men, It is not just to think that odds, because One lover equals any other ten.' FROM 'GONDIBERT'--CANTO IV. 1 The King, who never time nor power misspent In subject's bashfulness, whiling great deeds Like coward councils, who too late consent, Thus to his secret will aloud proceeds: 2 'If to thy fame, brave youth, I could add wings, Or make her trumpet louder by my voice, I would, as an example drawn for kings, Proclaim the cause why thou art now my choice. * * * * * 3 'For she is yours, as your adoption free; And in that gift my remnant life I give; But 'tis to you, brave youth! who now are she; And she that heaven where secondly I live. 4 'And richer than that crown, which shall be thine When life's long progress I have gone with fame, Take all her love; which scarce forbears to shine, And own thee, through her virgin curtain, shame.' 5 Thus spake the king; and Rhodalind appeared Through published love, with so much bashfulness, As young kings show, when by surprise o'erheard, Moaning to favourite ears a deep distress. 6 For love is a distress, and would be hid Like monarchs' griefs, by which they bashful grow; And in that shame beholders they forbid; Since those blush most, who most their blushes show.