Analysis of The Troubadour. Canto 3 D (Captivity)
Letitia Elizabeth Landon 1802 (Chelsea) – 1838 (Cape Coast)
AND AMIRALD from that hour sought
A refuge from each mournful thought
In RAYMOND'S sad but soothing smile;
And listening what might well beguile
The spirit from its last recess
Of dark and silent wretchedness.
He spoke of EVA, and he tried
To rouse her father into pride
Of her fair beauty; rather strove
To waken hope yet more than love.
He saw how deeply AMIRALD fear'd
To touch a wound not heal'd but sear'd:
His gentle care was not in vain,
And AMIRALD learn'd to think again
Of hope, if not of happiness;
And soon his bosom pined to press
The child whom he so long had left
An orphan doubly thus bereft.
He mark'd with what enamour'd tongue
RAYMOND on EVA'S mention hung,—
The softened tone, the downward gaze,
All that so well the heart betrays;
And a reviving future stole
Like dew and sunlight on his soul.
Soon the Crusaders would be met
Where winter's rest from war was set;
And then farewell to arms and Spain;—
Then for their own fair France again.
One morn there swell'd the trumpet's blast,
Calling to battle, but the last;
And AMIRALD watch'd the youthful knight
Spur his proud courser to the fight:
Tall as the young pine yet unbent
By strife with its mountain element,—
His vizor was up, and his full dark eye
Flash'd as its flashing were victory;
And hope and pride sate on his brow
As his earlier war-dreams were on him now.
Well might he be proud, for where was there one
Who had won the honour that he had won?
And first of the line it was his to lead
His band to many a daring deed.
But rose on the breath of the evening gale,
Not the trumpet's salute, but a mournful tale
Of treachery, that had betray'd the flower
Of the Christian force to the Infidel's power.
One came who told he saw RAYMOND fall,
Left in the battle the last of all;
His helm was gone, and his wearied hand
Held a red but a broken brand.—
What could a warrior do alone?
And AMIRALD felt all hope was gone.
Alas for the young! alas for the brave!
For the morning's hope, and the evening's grave!
And gush'd for him hot briny tears,
Such as AMIRALD had not shed for years;—
With heavy step and alter'd heart,
Again he turn'd him to depart.
He sought his child, but half her bloom
Was withering in RAYMOND'S tomb.
Albeit not with those who fled,
Yet was not RAYMOND with the dead.
There is a lofty castle stands
On the verge of Grenada's lands;
It has a dungeon, and a chain,
And there the young knight must remain.
Day after day,—or rather night,—
Can morning come without its light?
Pass'd on without a sound or sight.
The only thing that he could feel,
Was the same weight of fettering steel,—
The only sound that he could hear
Was when his own voice mock'd his ear,—
His only sight was the drear lamp
That faintly show'd the dungeon's damp,
When by his side the jailor stood,
And brought his loathed and scanty food.
What is the toil, or care, or pain,
The human heart cannot sustain?
Enough if struggling can create
A change or colour in our fate;
But where's the spirit that can cope
With listless suffering, when hope,
The last of misery's allies,
Sickens of its sweet self, and dies.
He thought on EVA :—tell not me
Of happiness in memory!
Oh! what is memory but a gift
Within a ruin'd temple left,
Recalling what its beauties were,
And then presenting what they are.
And many hours pass'd by,—each one
Sad counterpart of others gone;
Till even to his dreams was brought
The sameness of his waking thought;
And in his sleep he felt again
The dungeon, darkness, damp, and chain.
Scheme | AABBCCDDXX EEFGXCHHIIJJKK LLFG MMNNAXXOPPQQRX SSTTUUVVXWXXXXYYZZ RR1 1 FFNNN2 2 3 3 4 4 XX FF5 5 6 6 7 7 OOXHTXQWAAGF |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 0111101 01011101 0111101 010011101 01011101 110101 11110011 11010011 10110101 11011111 1111011 11011111 11011101 0111101 11111100 01110111 01111111 11010101 111111 10110101 01010101 11110101 00010101 1101111 10010111 11011111 0111101 11111101 1111011 10110101 0110101 11110101 1101111 111110100 111101111 111100100 01011111 11100110111 1111111111 111011111 0110111111 111100101 1110110101 1010110101 11001101010 1010110110 111111101 100100111 111101101 10110101 110100101 0111111 0110101101 1010100101 0111111 11111111 11010101 01111101 11111101 1100011 01011111 11110101 11010101 101111 11010001 01011101 11011101 11010111 11010111 01011111 1011111 01011111 11111111 11011011 1101011 1111011 01110101 11011111 01011001 011100101 01110101 11010111 11010011 011110 1111101 11110111 11000100 111100101 01010101 01011100 01010111 010101111 1101101 11011111 01011101 00111101 01010101 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 3,429 |
Words | 658 |
Sentences | 28 |
Stanzas | 8 |
Stanza Lengths | 10, 14, 4, 14, 18, 17, 8, 12 |
Lines Amount | 97 |
Letters per line (avg) | 28 |
Words per line (avg) | 7 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 337 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 81 |
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"The Troubadour. Canto 3 D (Captivity)" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 2 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/44919/the-troubadour.-canto-3-d-%28captivity%29>.
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