# Romance of the Rose (Ellis)/Chapter 13

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Herein the Dreamer telleth how He felt the shaft of Cupid’s bow. E’en as he sought his hand to close Around the stem, and snatch the rose, Whose fragrance through his soul had sent Such madness and bewilderment. But this, his fondest hope, denied The God of Love, who him espied.
Love speeds a shaft The God of Love, whose bow was bent With purpose fell, where’er I went1760 Pursued my steps, and took his stand Beneath a fig-tree, close at hand To where, with arm upraised, I sought To pluck the Rose whose beauty brought Me thither; then he took a shaft And nocking it, with bowman’s craft, Drew the string taut against his ear With mighty arm, for well that gear ​The Dreamer pierced by Beauty He knows to handle; straightway flew The shaft therefrom, which right well knew1770 Its deadly billet; through my heart Quick pierced the golden-headed dart, And on my forehead ice-cold sweat Burst forth, and ne’er can I forget How ’neath my fur-trimmed doublet spread Chill shuddering as my life were sped. Pierced by the fatal shaft I fell Supine to earth; ah! woe to tell How sudden faintness seemed to seize My heart, the while I felt my knees1780 Give way, and when from out the swoon I woke, felt feeble as the moon Looketh in glare of day. I thought To see blood flow, but when I sought The wounded spot ’twas clear and dry. Thereto both hands did I apply. And strove, ’mid sighs and groans, to draw The shaft from out the cruel flaw: But, misery me, although the bole I drew from out the fatal hole,1790 The iron barb, which Beauty hight, Remained therein, fast-fixed, and tight Past power to move it, yet no gout Of crimson life-blood welled thereout.
Ah! then what anguish and distress. What grief twice told, what heaviness, I suffered: reft of speech I stood Distrustful where or how I could Some leech discover, or what herb To seek that might or cure or curb1800 My grievous hurt. ​The Rosebud still My heart desired: that seemed t o fill My being only; and the gain Of that dear treasure all my pain Had cased straightway, and given to me New life, from grief and sorrow free. For even to see it and inhale Its fragrance made the bitter bale Of life seem lighter, and though death Drew near, I strove to catch its breath.1810 But even then beheld that Love Another arrow raised above My trembling body. The shaft hight Simpleness Simpleness This second shaft was called, nor less Of might it hath than Beauty; oft Have men and maidens felt its soft But potent stroke. All suddenly The God, without once warning me, This golden arrow nocked and sped, With mighty twang, against my head1820 Its cruel barb, which through the eye Pierced to my soul; and verily I fear no man of woman born Can e’er from out my breast that thorn Pull forth, for though one might release The shaft, yet must the barb unpeace For ever give to me, and lo! Therewith desire began to grow Fiercer within me than before To win the rosebud; more and more1830 Increased it as the more I felt Love’s second shaft, till seemed to melt ​My inmost soul. Oh sweeter far That rose to me, than violets are When spring awakes; it drew me on, Though wiser ’twere if I had gone Swiftfooted thence in hasty flight; But oft it haps that folly’s might Prevails o’er reason, and I bent My steps towards the rose whose scent1840 Subdued my will. A careful watch This while the archer kept to snatch Fair field against me as I strove To reach the fragrant flower, whose love Entranced my soul. The shaft hight Courtesy Now thirdly flew The shaft hight Courtesy, which through My heart pierced once again. Adown I fell at once in deadly swoon. Stretched out beneath the sombre shade An olive tree’s broad branches made.1850 The wound this time was wide and deep. And when I woke from swooning sleep. And strove with all my strength and craft To pluck the weapon forth, the haft, Alas! was all therefrom I gained. Fast fixed the jagged barb remained. Then sitting on the sward upright. My painful anguish as I might Brooking, I saw that woe must be My lot, for this last wound to me1860 Brought new desire to gain the rose. And yet again the archer chose ​The shaft height Generosity Another bolt of beauty rare, Gold wrought and winged with plumage fair: Ah! well might I then fear my fate, For scalded man doth water hate, Though but lukewarm or cold it be. Franchise or Generosity This shaft was named; yet nought dismayed Would be though arrows round me played,1870 And swords and stones were showered pell-mell. One word alone my tongue could spell: “Give me my rose.” Almighty Love, Whose influence reigneth far above All else, to me such courage gave As dared his worst assault to brave. Wounded and weak I gained my feet And staggered on, prepared to meet The archer, towards that rose-grown brake, But found strong spines and thistles make1880 A barrier none could pass. Ah! vain All efforts proved the prize to gain. Yet near the hedge I stood, and might Freely enjoy the gladsome sight Of those sweet roses hedged by thorns, Nought recking or of pains or scorns If only I might snuff the air With fragrance laden, and the fair Sweet rosebuds gaze on, free from let Or hindrance. Then did I forget1890 All pain and suffering, lost in joy That nought could ’minish, nought destroy; ​So long as I might rest anear The rose, o’erpast was all my fear. Healed were my wounds, what more could I Desire, than thus to live and die?
Company and Fair-Seeming Some while remained I resting there, When came the God of Love, (whose care Alonely seemed my heart to rack) As though his mind was to attack1900 Me once again. With fell intent, His bright and beauteous bow he bent, Driving an arrow ’neath my breast, Which found my heart—its destined quest. This arrow’s name was Company, The which is known ’fore all to be Potent in curing maid or dame Of foolish coyness, pride, or shame. It suddenly within me wrought Renewed distress, and o’er me brought1910 Three swoons, and when from them I woke, More barely my forlornness broke Upon me, and all hope had fled Of cure or bettering. Then I said: More welcome death were, than to lead A life so vile, where troubles breed New troubles still, for Cupid now Hath will to make of me, I trow, A martyr; fain were I to flit Me hence; but how to compass it?1920 Meanwhile the God against me aimed Another arrow, which was named Fair-Seeming. Dangerous it is. Yet he who feels its force, ywis, ​Love’s balsam Blesseth the pain it brings. Its point Is keen and pierces thew and joint Like steel-wrought razor. But the head With unguent is by Cupid spread To dull the pain, for wills he not The death of those whom he hath got1930 Within his toils, but betterment Delights to give them; oft is sent To all his lieges fragrant balm, Wrought by his hands, their griefs to calm. Lovers in him great comfort find; Sores doth he heal and woundings bind. This arrow Love against me drew, Tearing my heart, but like a dew Of sweet effect this unguent spread Through all my frame, from heel to head,1940 My senses cleared, and gave me back That strength whereof my limbs had lack. And through that precious balsam death Was cheated—Love renewed my breath.
Enough of strength I had to draw The arrow forth, but like a claw The barb held fast, so all the five Fair shafts did Cupid thus contrive To lodge within my frame, which ne’er Can force remove or time outwear.1950 And though the ointment helped me much, The pains I still endured were such, That of my countenance the hue Was altered, and right well I knew That this last shaft both marred and made, For anguish tipped its pointed blade; ​The while the unguent, soft and suave, To all my wounds sweet comfort gave. At once it hurt and yet it healed. Awaited new pains, yet old annealed.1960