O may he meet with dragons belching fire,
1
Like Jason, he who sought the fleece of gold;
Or to a beast, till seven long years transpire,
Like Nabugodonozor, king of old,
Be changed; or smitten with as vast a woe
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As Helen's rape brought Troy-town long ago;
Or swallowed be within those bogs of hell
Where Tantalus and Proserpina dwell;
More than Job's sorrows be his evil chance,
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Close-snared as Daedalus of whom men tell,
Who could wish evil to the realm of France!
Four months head-downward in the marsh's mire,
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Even as the bittern may he cry; or, sold
To the Grand Turk for cash, in harness dire,
Toil like a bull; or, as the tale is told
Of Magdalen, for thirty long years go
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Sans wool or linen—yea! unvestured so;
Drowned like Narcissus be he; or, as befel
To Absalom, hang by the hair; 'twere well
Judas' dread end were his, or circumstance
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Of horror strange as Simon Magus' spell,
Who could wish evil to the realm of France!
Were but Octavian king—runs my desire—
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With molten coin, so slowly growing cold,
To fill his belly; or might he expire
Between revolving mill-stones crushed and rolled,
Like good Saint Victor; or in the choking flow
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Of ocean drown, fate worse than Jonah's know
In the great whale; him from thy light expel,
Phoebus; and, Venus—punishment more fell—
Deny him thy sweet self; and á outrance
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Curse him, High God, with curse ineffable
Who could wish evil to the realm of France!
Prince, may Eolus forth on winds compel
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His soul, where, sunk beneath the ocean's swell,
The woods of Glaucus gloom, and never glance
Of hope can fall—in him what good can dwell
Who could wish evil to the realm of France!