I went and peered, and could descry No cause for her distressful cry; But yet for her dear lady’s sake I stooped, methought, the dove to take, When lo! Which when I saw and when I heard, I wondered what might ail the bird; For nothing near it could I see, Save the grass and herbs underneath the old tree. And, by mine honor! But now unrobe yourself; for I Must pray, ere yet in bed I lie. Then the lady rose again, And moved, as she were not in pain. I have power to bid thee flee. Such sorrow with such grace she blended, As if she feared she had offended Sweet Christabel, that gentle maid!
And while she spake, her looks, her air, Such gentle thankfulness declare, That so it seemed her girded vests Grew tight beneath her heaving breasts. The moon shines dim in the open air, And not a moonbeam enters here. And thus the lofty lady spake- ‘All they, who live in the upper sky, Do love you, holy Christabel! Yet Geraldine nor speaks nor stirs: Amid the jagged shadows Of mossy leafless boughs, Kneeling in the moonlight, To make her gentle vows; Her slender palms together prest, Heaving sometimes on her breast; Her face resigned to bliss or bale- Her face, oh, call it fair not pale, And both blue eyes more bright than clear. The palfrey was as fleet as wind, And they rode furiously behind.
Stretch forth thy hand, and have no fear!
She kneels beneath the huge oak tree, And in silence prayeth she. No doubt, she hath a vision sweet. And wouldst thou wrong thy only child, Her child and thine? It is a wine of virtuous powers; My mother made it of wild flowers. Yet he who saw this Geraldine, Had deemed her sure a thing divine. I saw the same, Fluttering, and uttering fearful moan, Among the green herbs in the forest alone.
And in my dream methought I went To search out what might there be found; And what the sweet bird’s trouble meant, That thus lay fluttering on the ground. Sir Leoline, a moment’s space, Stood gazing on the damsel’s face: The lovely maid and the lady tall Are pacing both into the hall, And pacing on through page and groom, Enhed the Baron’s presence-room.
Full text of “English-Hungarian dictionary”
Magyaru if her guardian spirit ‘t were, What if she knew her mother near? Her fair large eyes ‘gan glitter bright, And from the floor, whereon she sank, The mwgyarul lady stood upright: 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!
She had dreams all yesternight Of her own betrothed knight; And she in the midnight wood will pray For the weal of her lover that’s far away. Deep from within she seems half-way To lift some weight with sick assay, And eyes the maid and seeks delay; Then suddenly, as one defied, Collects herself in scorn and pride, And lay down by the maiden’s side!
The moon shines dim in the open air, And not a moonbeam enters here. And why with hollow voice cries she, magyaeul, woman, off!
Such giddiness of heart and brain Comes seldom save from rage and pain, So talks as it’s most used sersg do. The night is chill; the forest bare; Is it the wind that moaneth bleak?
I have heard the gray-haired friar tell, How on her death-bed she did say, That she should hear the castle-bell Strike twelve upon my wedding-day. For the lady was ruthlessly seized; and he kenned In the beautiful lady the child of his friend!
Thy beautiful daughter is safe and free- Sir Leoline greets thee thus through me. And hence the custom and law began That still at dawn the sacristan, Who duly pulls the heavy bell, Five and forty beads must tell Between each stroke- a warning knell, Which not a soul can choose but hear From Bratha Head to Wyndermere. Five warriors seized me yestermorn, Me, even me, a maid forlorn: Can she the bodiless dead espy?
These words Sir Leoline will say Many a morn to his dying day! O then the Baron forgot his age, His noble heart swelled high with rage; He swore by the wounds in Jesu’s side He would proclaim it far and wide, With trump and solemn heraldry, That they, who thus had wronged the dame Were base as spotted infamy! The lamp with twofold silver chain Is fastened to an angel’s feet.
What sees she there? Asleep, and dreaming fearfully, Fearfully dreaming, yet, I wis, Dreaming that alone, which is- O sorrow and shame! Some muttered words his comrades spoke: The Baron rose, and while he prest His gentle daughter to his breast, With cheerful wonder in his eyes The lady Geraldine espies, And gave such welcome to the same, As might beseem so bright a dame!
For what can aid the mastiff bitch? But this she knows, in joys and woes, That saints will aid if men will call: As sure as Heaven shall rescue me, I have no thought what men they be; Nor do I know how long it is For I have lain entranced, I wis Since one, the tallest of the five, Took me from the palfrey’s back, A weary woman, scarce alive.
Etnikai polgárháború Erdélyben ben
Thou knowest to-night, and wilt know to-morrow, This mark of my shame, this seal of my sorrow; But vainly thou warrest, For this is alone in Thy power to declare, That in the dim forest Thou heard’st a low moaning, And found’st a bright lady, surpassingly fair: The lady sprang up suddenly, The lovely lady, Christabel!
I saw a bright green snake Coiled around its wings and neck. He bids thee come without delay With all thy numerous array; And take thy maguarul daughter home: The moon is behind, and at the full; And yet she looks both small and dull.
I have power to bid thee flee. And passively did imitate That look of dull and treacherous hate!
But when he heard the lady’s tale, And when she told her father’s name, Why waxed Sir Leoline so pale, Murmuring o’er the name again, Lord Roland de Vaux of Tryermaine? Her gracious stars the lady blest, And thus spake on sweet Christabel: Never till now she uttered yell Beneath the eye of Christabel.
Thy only child Lies at thy feet, thy joy, thy pride. She died the hour that I was born. The touch, the sight, had passed away, And in its stead that vision blest, Which comforted her after-rest, While in the lady’s arms she lay, Had put a rapture in her breast, And on her lips and o’er her eyes Spread smiles like light!
Saith Bracy the bard, ‘So let it knell! And now the tears were on his face, And fondly in his arms he took Fair Geraldine who met the embrace, Prolonging it with joyous look.
Coleridge, Samuel Taylor: Christabel (részletek) (Christabel Magyar nyelven)
Was it for thee, Thou gentle maid! That prayer her deadly pangs beguiled, Sir Leoline! She stole along, she nothing spoke, The sighs she heaved were soft and low, And naught was green upon the engsd, But moss and rarest mistletoe: She was most beautiful to see, Like a lady of a far countree. And oft the while she seems to smile As infants at a sudden light!