Chapter XVIII: Canto IV: (after Stanza 44)

“Oh vain reflections’ guiling human sense! 1
How could this darkling error seal your sight?
How have ye hugged this gay and glad pretence
That lures to ’sanguined hate and baneful fight?
And now of bloodshed dour experience,
A sore dread trial of the deadly blight
Is shown to thee. And now when known thy lot
Thou shalt give counsel which thou tookest not.

2

“Dos corpos dos imigos cavalleiros,
Do matto os animaes se apascentaram;
As fontes de mais perto nos primeiros
Dias sangue com agua distillaram.
Os pastores do campo, e os monteiros
Da vizinha montanha, não gostaram
As aves de rapina em mais de hum ano,
Por terem o sabor do corpo humano.”

“The corpses of the Cavaliers, our fone, 2
Fed the foul creatures of the field and wood:
The nearest fountains till some days were gone
Distilled their chrystal black with human blood.
The meadow-shepherds, and the swains who wone
Upon the mountain, loathed the fulsome food,
The feral bird,--which for a year and more,
Smackt of the gorgèd flesh and human gore.”

Canto IV.

Ponderando tamanho atrevimento
Disse a Neptuno então Protheo propheta:
“Temo que desta gente, gente venha,
Que de teus reinos o grão sceptro tenha.”

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