PART I
‘Tis the middle of night by the castle clock,
And the owls have awakened the crowing cock;
Tuâwhit! Tuâwhoo!
And hark, again! the crowing cock,
How drowsily it crew.
Sir Leoline, the Baron rich,
Hath a toothless mastiff bitch;
From her kennel beneath the rock
She maketh answer to the clock,
Four for the quarters, and twelve for the hour;
Ever and aye, by shine and shower,
Sixteen short howls, not over loud;
Some say, she sees my lady’s shroud.
Is the night chilly and dark?
The night is chilly, but not dark.
The thin gray cloud is spread on high,
It covers but not hides the sky.
The moon is behind, and at the full;
And yet she looks both small and dull.
The night is chill, the cloud is gray:
‘Tis a month before the month of May,
And the Spring comes slowly up this way.
The lovely lady, Christabel,
‘Tis the middle of night â āĻāĻāĻŋ āĻāĻā§āϰ āϰāĻžāϤ by the castle clock â āĻĻā§āϰā§āĻā§āϰ āĻāĻĄāĻŧāĻŋ āĻ āύā§āϝāĻžāϝāĻŧā§ And the owls â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻĒā§āĻāĻāĻžāϰāĻž have awakened â āĻāĻžāĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āϤā§āϞā§āĻā§ the crowing cock â āĻĄāĻžāĻāϤ⧠āĻĨāĻžāĻāĻž āĻŽā§āϰāĻāĻā§Tu-whit Tu-whoo â āĻā§-āĻšā§āĻāĻ āĻā§-āĻšā§ (āĻĒā§āĻāĻāĻžāϰ āĻĄāĻžāĻ)And hark again â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻļā§āύ⧠āĻāĻŦāĻžāϰ the crowing cock â āĻĄāĻžāĻāϤ⧠āĻĨāĻžāĻāĻž āĻŽā§āϰāĻāĻā§ How drowsily â āĻāϤ āϤāύā§āĻĻā§āϰāĻžāĻā§āĻāύā§āύāĻāĻžāĻŦā§ it crew â āϏ⧠āĻĄāĻžāĻāϞSir Leoline â āϏā§āϝāĻžāϰ āϞāĻŋāĻāϞāĻžāĻāύ the Baron rich â āϧāύ⧠āĻŦā§āϝāĻžāϰāύHath â āĻāĻā§ a toothless â āĻĻāĻžāĻāϤāĻšā§āύ mastiff bitch â āĻŽāĻžāĻĻā§ āĻŽāĻžāϏā§āĻāĻŋāĻĢ āĻā§āĻā§āϰFrom her kennel â āϤāĻžāϰ āĻā§āĻāϝāĻŧāĻžāĻĄāĻŧ āĻĨā§āĻā§ beneath the rock â āĻĒāĻžāĻĨāϰā§āϰ āύāĻŋāĻā§She maketh answer â āϏ⧠āϏāĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻž āĻĻā§āϝāĻŧ to the clock â āĻāĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϰ āϧā§āĻŦāύāĻŋāϤā§Four â āĻāĻžāϰāĻŦāĻžāϰ for the quarters â āĻĒā§āύ⧠āĻāĻŖā§āĻāĻžāϰ āĻāύā§āϝ and twelve â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻŦāĻžāϰā§āĻŦāĻžāϰ for the hour â āĻĒā§āϰā§āĻŖ āĻāĻŖā§āĻāĻžāϰ āĻāύā§āϝEver and aye â āϏāĻŦāϏāĻŽāϝāĻŧāĻ by shine and shower â āϰā§āĻĻā§ āĻ āĻŦā§āώā§āĻāĻŋāϤā§Sixteen â āώā§āϞāĻāĻŋ short howls â āĻā§āĻ āĻā§āĻ āĻšā§āĻā§āĻāĻžāĻšā§āϝāĻŧāĻž not over loud â āĻā§āĻŦ āĻā§āϰ⧠āύāϝāĻŧSome say â āĻā§āĻ āĻā§āĻ āĻŦāϞ⧠she sees â āϏ⧠āĻĻā§āĻā§ my lady’s shroud â āĻāĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻžāϰ āĻāĻžāĻĢāύIs the night â āϰāĻžāϤ āĻāĻŋ chilly and dark â āĻļā§āϤāϞ āĻ āĻ āύā§āϧāĻāĻžāϰThe night â āϰāĻžāϤ is chilly â āĻļā§āϤāϞ but not dark â āĻāĻŋāύā§āϤ⧠āĻ āύā§āϧāĻāĻžāϰ āύāϝāĻŧThe thin gray cloud â āĻĒāĻžāϤāϞāĻž āϧā§āϏāϰ āĻŽā§āĻ is spread on high â āĻāĻāĻā§ āĻāĻāĻžāĻļā§ āĻāĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻāĻā§It covers â āĻāĻāĻŋ āĻĸā§āĻā§ āϰā§āĻā§āĻā§ but not hides â āĻāĻŋāύā§āϤ⧠āĻāĻĄāĻŧāĻžāϞ āĻāϰā§āύāĻŋ the sky â āĻāĻāĻžāĻļāĻā§The moon â āĻāĻžāĻāĻĻ is behind â āĻĒā§āĻāύ⧠āϰāϝāĻŧā§āĻā§ and at the full â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻĒā§āϰā§āĻŖāĻŋāĻŽāĻžāϰAnd yet â āϤāĻŦā§āĻ she looks â āϤāĻžāĻā§ āĻĻā§āĻāĻžāϝāĻŧ both small and dull â āĻā§āĻ āĻ āĻŽā§āϞāĻžāύThe night â āϰāĻžāϤ is chill â āĻļā§āϤāϞ the cloud â āĻŽā§āĻ is gray â āϧā§āϏāϰ’Tis a month before â āĻāĻāĻŋ āĻāĻ āĻŽāĻžāϏ āĻāĻā§ the month of May â āĻŽā§ āĻŽāĻžāϏā§āϰAnd the Spring â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻŦāϏāύā§āϤ comes slowly â āϧā§āϰ⧠āϧā§āϰ⧠āĻāϏ⧠up this way â āĻāĻ āĻĒāĻĨā§The lovely lady â āϏā§āύā§āĻĻāϰ āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻž Christabel â āĻā§āϰāĻŋāϏā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§āϞ
The opening of Christabel is a masterpiece of Gothic atmosphere. Coleridge sets the poem at midnight in a medieval castle, a traditional setting for supernatural events. The hooting of the owl, the unnatural crowing of the cock, and the old mastiff’s sixteen howls create a sense of fear and suspense. The belief that the dog sees Lady Leoline’s funeral shroud introduces the supernatural indirectly through folklore rather than direct description. The dim full moon hidden behind grey clouds symbolizes truth and goodness being temporarily obscured, while the slow arrival of spring suggests that joy and renewal have been delayed. Through symbolism, sound imagery, foreshadowing, and Gothic setting, Coleridge prepares the reader for the mysterious arrival of Geraldine. Thus, the opening successfully establishes the central mood of mystery, psychological tension, and supernatural expectation that dominates the poem.
Whom her father loves so well,
What makes her in the wood so late,
A furlong from the castle gate?
She had dreams all yesternight
Of her own betrothèd knight;
And she in the midnight wood will pray
For the weal of her lover that’s far away.
She stole along, she nothing spoke,
The sighs she heaved were soft and low,
And naught was green upon the oak
But moss and rarest misletoe:
She kneels beneath the huge oak tree,
And in silence prayeth she.
The lady sprang up suddenly,
The lovely lady Christabel!
It moaned as near, as near can be,
But what it is she cannot tell.â
On the other side it seems to be,
Of the huge, broad-breasted, old oak tree.
The night is chill; the forest bare;
Is it the wind that moaneth bleak?
There is not wind enough in the air
To move away the ringlet curl
From the lovely lady’s cheekâ
There is not wind enough to twirl
The one red leaf, the last of its clan,
That dances as often as dance it can,
Hanging so light, and hanging so high,
On the topmost twig that looks up at the sky.
Hush, beating heart of Christabel!
Jesu, Maria, shield her well!
She folded her arms beneath her cloak,
And stole to the other side of the oak.
What sees she there?
There she sees a damsel bright,
Drest in a silken robe of white,
That shadowy in the moonlight shone:
The neck that made that white robe wan,
Her stately neck, and arms were bare;
Her blue-veined feet unsandl’d were,
And wildly glittered here and there
The gems entangled in her hair.
I guess, ’twas frightful there to see
A lady so richly clad as sheâ
Beautiful exceedingly!
Whom â āϝāĻžāĻā§ her father â āϤāĻžāϰ āĻŦāĻžāĻŦāĻž loves so well â āĻā§āĻŦ āĻāĻžāϞā§āĻŦāĻžāϏā§āύWhat makes â āĻā§ āĻāĻžāϰāĻŖā§ her â āϏ⧠in the wood â āĻŦāύā§āϰ āĻŽāϧā§āϝ⧠so late â āĻāϤ āϰāĻžāϤā§A furlong â āĻāĻ āĻĢāĻžāϰāϞāĻ āĻĻā§āϰ⧠from the castle gate â āĻĻā§āϰā§āĻā§āϰ āĻĢāĻāĻ āĻĨā§āĻā§She had dreams â āϏ⧠āϏā§āĻŦāĻĒā§āύ āĻĻā§āĻā§āĻāĻŋāϞ all yesternight â āĻāϤ āϰāĻžāϤāĻāϰOf â āϤāĻžāϰ her own â āύāĻŋāĻā§āϰ betrothed knight â āĻŦāĻžāĻāĻĻāϤā§āϤ āĻŦā§āϰāϝā§āĻĻā§āϧāĻžāϰAnd she â āĻāĻŦāĻ āϏ⧠in the midnight wood â āĻŽāϧā§āϝāϰāĻžāϤā§āϰ āĻŦāύ⧠will pray â āĻĒā§āϰāĻžāϰā§āĻĨāύāĻž āĻāϰāĻŦā§For the weal â āĻŽāĻā§āĻāϞā§āϰ āĻāύā§āϝ of her lover â āϤāĻžāϰ āĻĒā§āϰāĻŋāϝāĻŧāĻāύā§āϰ that’s far away â āϝ⧠āĻ āύā§āĻ āĻĻā§āϰ⧠āĻāĻā§She stole along â āϏ⧠āύāĻŋāĻāĻļāĻŦā§āĻĻā§ āĻāĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻā§āϞ she nothing spoke â āϏ⧠āĻāĻŋāĻā§āĻ āĻŦāϞāϞ āύāĻžThe sighs â āĻĻā§āϰā§āĻāĻļā§āĻŦāĻžāϏāĻā§āϞ⧠she heaved â āϏ⧠āĻĢā§āϞāĻāĻŋāϞ were soft and low â āĻŽā§āĻĻā§ āĻ āĻā§āώā§āĻŖ āĻāĻŋāϞAnd naught â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻāĻŋāĻā§āĻ was green â āϏāĻŦā§āĻ āĻāĻŋāϞ āύāĻž upon the oak â āĻāĻ āĻāĻžāĻā§āϰ āĻāĻĒāϰBut â āĻļā§āϧ⧠moss â āĻļā§āϝāĻžāĻāϞāĻž and rarest misletoe â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻŦāĻŋāϰāϞ āĻŽāĻŋāϏāϞāĻā§She kneels â āϏ⧠āĻšāĻžāĻāĻā§ āĻā§āĻĄāĻŧā§ āĻŦāϏ⧠beneath â āύāĻŋāĻā§ the huge oak tree â āĻŦāĻŋāĻļāĻžāϞ āĻāĻ āĻāĻžāĻā§āϰAnd â āĻāĻŦāĻ in silence â āύā§āϰāĻŦā§ prayeth she â āϏ⧠āĻĒā§āϰāĻžāϰā§āĻĨāύāĻž āĻāϰā§The lady â āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻž sprang up â āĻšāĻ āĻžā§ āĻāĻ ā§ āĻĻāĻžāĻāĻĄāĻŧāĻžāϞ suddenly â āĻšāĻ āĻžā§The lovely lady â āϏā§āύā§āĻĻāϰ āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻž Christabel â āĻā§āϰāĻŋāϏā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§āϞIt moaned â āĻāĻāĻŋ āĻā§āĻāĻžāĻā§āĻāĻŋāϞ as near â āĻā§āĻŦ āĻāĻžāĻā§ as near can be â āϝāϤāĻāĻž āĻāĻžāĻā§ āĻšāĻāϝāĻŧāĻž āϏāĻŽā§āĻāĻŦBut â āĻāĻŋāύā§āϤ⧠what it is â āĻāĻāĻŋ āĻā§ she cannot tell â āϏ⧠āĻŦā§āĻāϤ⧠āĻĒāĻžāϰāϞ āύāĻžOn the other side â āĻ āύā§āϝ āĻĒāĻžāĻļā§ it seems to be â āĻŽāύ⧠āĻšāϞ⧠āĻāĻāĻŋ āĻāĻā§Of the huge â āĻŦāĻŋāĻļāĻžāϞ broad-breasted â āĻĒā§āϰāĻļāϏā§āϤ āĻāĻžāĻŖā§āĻĄā§āϰ old oak tree â āĻĒā§āϰā§āύ⧠āĻāĻ āĻāĻžāĻā§āϰThe night â āϰāĻžāϤ is chill â āĻļā§āϤāϞThe forest â āĻŦāύ bare â āĻĒāĻžāϤāĻžāĻšā§āύIs it â āĻāĻāĻŋ āĻāĻŋ the wind â āĻŦāĻžāϤāĻžāϏ that moaneth bleak â āϝ⧠āĻŦāĻŋāώāĻŖā§āύ āϏā§āϰ⧠āĻšāĻžāĻšāĻžāĻāĻžāϰ āĻāϰāĻā§There is not â āύā§āĻ wind enough â āĻāϤāĻā§āĻā§ āĻŦāĻžāϤāĻžāϏāĻ in the air â āĻŦāĻžāϤāĻžāϏā§To move away â āϏāϰāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻĻā§āĻāϝāĻŧāĻžāϰ āĻāύā§āϝ the ringlet curl â āĻā§āĻāĻĄāĻŧāĻžāύ⧠āĻā§āϞā§āϰ āĻā§āĻāĻžFrom â āĻĨā§āĻā§ the lovely lady’s cheek â āϏā§āύā§āĻĻāϰ āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻžāϰ āĻāĻžāϞThere is not â āύā§āĻ wind enough â āĻāϤāĻā§āĻā§ āĻŦāĻžāϤāĻžāϏāĻ to twirl â āĻā§āϰāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻĻā§āĻāϝāĻŧāĻžāϰ āĻāύā§āϝThe one red leaf â āĻāĻāĻŽāĻžāϤā§āϰ āϞāĻžāϞ āĻĒāĻžāϤāĻžāĻāĻŋ the last of its clan â āϤāĻžāϰ āĻŦāĻāĻļā§āϰ āĻļā§āώāĻāĻŋThat dances â āϝā§āĻāĻŋ āύāĻžāĻā§ as often as â āϝāϤāĻŦāĻžāϰ āĻĒāĻžāϰ⧠dance it can â āύā§āĻā§ āĻāĻ ā§Hanging â āĻā§āϞ⧠āĻāĻā§ so light â āĻāϤ āĻšāĻžāϞāĻāĻžāĻāĻžāĻŦā§ and hanging so high â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻāϤ āĻāĻāĻā§āϤ⧠āĻā§āϞā§On the topmost twig â āϏāϰā§āĻŦā§āĻā§āĻ āĻĄāĻžāϞā§āϰ āĻĄāĻāĻžāϝāĻŧ that looks up â āϝāĻž āϤāĻžāĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻāĻā§ at the sky â āĻāĻāĻžāĻļā§āϰ āĻĻāĻŋāĻā§Hush â āĻā§āĻĒ beating heart â āϧā§āĻāĻĒā§āĻ āĻāϰāĻž āĻšā§āĻĻāϝāĻŧ of Christabel â āĻā§āϰāĻŋāϏā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§āϞā§āϰJesu Maria â āϝāĻŋāĻļā§, āĻŽāĻžāϰāĻŋāϝāĻŧāĻžShield her well â āϤāĻžāĻā§ āĻāĻžāϞā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§ āϰāĻā§āώāĻž āĻāϰā§āύShe folded â āϏ⧠āĻāĻĄāĻŧā§ āĻāϰāϞ her arms â āϤāĻžāϰ āĻĻā§āĻ āĻšāĻžāϤ beneath her cloak â āĻāĻžāĻĻāϰā§āϰ āύāĻŋāĻā§And stole â āĻāĻŦāĻ āύāĻŋāĻāĻļāĻŦā§āĻĻā§ āĻā§āϞ to the other side â āĻ āύā§āϝ āĻĒāĻžāĻļā§ of the oak â āĻāĻ āĻāĻžāĻā§āϰWhat sees she there â āϏ⧠āϏā§āĻāĻžāύ⧠āĻā§ āĻĻā§āĻāϞThere she sees â āϏā§āĻāĻžāύ⧠āϏ⧠āĻĻā§āĻāϞ a damsel bright â āĻāĻ āĻāĻā§āĻā§āĻŦāϞ āϤāϰā§āĻŖā§āĻā§Drest â āĻĒāϰāĻŋāĻšāĻŋāϤāĻž in a silken robe â āϰā§āĻļāĻŽāĻŋ āĻĒā§āĻļāĻžāĻā§ of white â āϏāĻžāĻĻāĻž āϰāĻā§āϰThat â āϝāĻž shadowy â āĻāĻžāϝāĻŧāĻžāĻŽāϝāĻŧāĻāĻžāĻŦā§ in the moonlight â āĻāĻžāĻāĻĻā§āϰ āĻāϞā§āϝāĻŧ shone â āĻā§āĻŦāϞāĻā§āĻŦāϞ āĻāϰāĻāĻŋāϞThe neck â āĻāĻžāĻĄāĻŧ that made â āϝāĻž āĻāϰ⧠āϤā§āϞā§āĻāĻŋāϞ that white robe â āϏā§āĻ āϏāĻžāĻĻāĻž āĻĒā§āĻļāĻžāĻāĻā§ wan â āĻĢā§āϝāĻžāĻāĻžāĻļā§Her stately neck â āϤāĻžāϰ āϏā§āĻ āĻžāĻŽ āĻāĻžāĻĄāĻŧ and arms â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻŦāĻžāĻšā§ were bare â āĻāύā§āĻŽā§āĻā§āϤ āĻāĻŋāϞHer blue-veined feet â āϤāĻžāϰ āύā§āϞ āĻļāĻŋāϰāĻžāϝā§āĻā§āϤ āĻĒāĻž unsandled were â āĻāĻžāϞāĻŋ āĻāĻŋāϞAnd wildly glittered â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻŦā§āύā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§ āĻāϞāĻŽāϞ āĻāϰāĻāĻŋāϞ here and there â āĻāĻāĻžāύ⧠āϏā§āĻāĻžāύā§The gems â āϰāϤā§āύāĻā§āϞ⧠entangled â āĻāĻĄāĻŧāĻžāύ⧠āĻāĻŋāϞ in her hair â āϤāĻžāϰ āĻā§āϞā§I guess â āĻāĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻŽāύ⧠āĻšāϝāĻŧ ’twas frightful â āĻāĻāĻŋ āĻāϝāĻŧāĻāĻāϰ āĻāĻŋāϞ there to see â āϏā§āĻāĻžāύ⧠āĻĻā§āĻāĻžāϰ āĻāύā§āϝA lady â āĻāĻ āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻž so richly clad â āĻāϤ āϏāĻŽā§āĻĻā§āϧ āĻĒā§āĻļāĻžāĻā§ āϏāĻā§āĻāĻŋāϤ as she â āϤāĻžāϰ āĻŽāϤā§Beautiful â āϏā§āύā§āĻĻāϰ exceedingly â āĻ āϤā§āϝāύā§āϤ
This passage exemplifies Coleridge’s mastery of Gothic atmosphere and psychological suspense. Rather than presenting supernatural terror directly, he builds tension through silence, symbolic natural imagery, and unexplained sounds. Christabel’s innocence, expressed through her midnight prayer and devotion to her absent fiancÊ, contrasts sharply with the mysterious appearance of Geraldine. Geraldine’s dazzling beauty, clothed in white yet described as strangely frightening, introduces one of the poem’s central themes: the deceptive nature of appearances. Thus, the passage prepares the reader for the conflict between innocence and hidden evil that shapes the remainder of Christabel.
Mary mother, save me now!
(Said Christabel) And who art thou?
The lady strange made answer meet,
And her voice was faint and sweet:â
Have pity on my sore distress,
I scarce can speak for weariness:
Stretch forth thy hand, and have no fear!
Said Christabel, How camest thou here?
And the lady, whose voice was faint and sweet,
Did thus pursue her answer meet:â
My sire is of a noble line,
And my name is Geraldine:
Five warriors seized me yestermorn,
Me, even me, a maid forlorn:
They choked my cries with force and fright,
And tied me on a palfrey white.
The palfrey was as fleet as wind,
And they rode furiously behind.
They spurred amain, their steeds were white:
And once we crossed the shade of night.
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.
Some muttered words his comrades spoke:
He placed me underneath this oak;
He swore they would return with haste;
Whither they went I cannot tellâ
I thought I heard, some minutes past,
Sounds as of a castle bell.
Mary mother â āĻŽāĻžāϤāĻž āĻŽā§āϰāĻŋ save me now â āĻāĻāύ āĻāĻŽāĻžāĻā§ āϰāĻā§āώāĻž āĻāϰā§āύ Said Christabel â āĻā§āϰāĻŋāϏā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§āϞ āĻŦāϞāϞ And who â āĻāϰ āĻā§ art thou â āϤā§āĻŽāĻŋThe lady strange â āĻ āĻĒāϰāĻŋāĻāĻŋāϤ āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻž made answer â āĻāϤā§āϤāϰ āĻĻāĻŋāϞā§āύ meet â āϝāĻĨāĻžāϝāĻĨāĻāĻžāĻŦā§And her voice â āĻāĻŦāĻ āϤāĻžāϰ āĻāĻŖā§āĻ āϏā§āĻŦāϰ was faint and sweet â āĻā§āώā§āĻŖ āĻ āĻŽāϧā§āϰ āĻāĻŋāϞHave pity â āĻĻāϝāĻŧāĻž āĻāϰ⧠on my sore distress â āĻāĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻāĻā§āϰ āĻĻā§āĻāĻā§āϰ āĻāĻĒāϰI scarce can speak â āĻāĻŽāĻŋ āĻĒā§āϰāĻžāϝāĻŧ āĻāĻĨāĻžāĻ āĻŦāϞāϤ⧠āĻĒāĻžāϰāĻŋ āύāĻž for weariness â āĻā§āϞāĻžāύā§āϤāĻŋāϰ āĻāĻžāϰāĻŖā§Stretch forth â āĻŦāĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻĻāĻžāĻ thy hand â āϤā§āĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻšāĻžāϤ and have no fear â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻāϝāĻŧ āĻĒā§āϝāĻŧā§ āύāĻžSaid Christabel â āĻā§āϰāĻŋāϏā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§āϞ āĻŦāϞāϞ How camest thou here â āϤā§āĻŽāĻŋ āĻāĻāĻžāύ⧠āĻāϞ⧠āĻā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§And the lady â āĻāĻŦāĻ āϏā§āĻ āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻž whose voice â āϝāĻžāϰ āĻāĻŖā§āĻ āϏā§āĻŦāϰ was faint and sweet â āĻā§āώā§āĻŖ āĻ āĻŽāϧā§āϰ āĻāĻŋāϞDid thus â āĻāĻāĻžāĻŦā§ pursue â āĻāĻžāϞāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻā§āϞā§āύ her answer â āϤāĻžāϰ āĻāϤā§āϤāϰ meet â āϝāĻĨāĻžāϝāĻĨāĻāĻžāĻŦā§My sire â āĻāĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻĒāĻŋāϤāĻž is of â āĻāĻāĻāύ a noble line â āĻ āĻāĻŋāĻāĻžāϤ āĻŦāĻāĻļā§āϰ āĻŽāĻžāύā§āώAnd â āĻāĻŦāĻ my name â āĻāĻŽāĻžāϰ āύāĻžāĻŽ is Geraldine â āĻā§āϰāĻžāϞā§āĻĄāĻŋāύFive warriors â āĻĒāĻžāĻāĻāĻāύ āϝā§āĻĻā§āϧāĻž seized me â āĻāĻŽāĻžāĻā§ āϧāϰ⧠āĻĢā§āϞā§āĻāĻŋāϞ yestermorn â āĻāϤāĻāĻžāϞ āϏāĻāĻžāϞā§Me even me â āĻāĻŽāĻžāĻā§, āĻšā§āϝāĻžāĻ āĻāĻŽāĻžāĻā§āĻ a maid forlorn â āĻāĻ āĻ āϏāĻšāĻžāϝāĻŧ āϤāϰā§āĻŖā§āĻā§They choked â āϤāĻžāϰāĻž āϰā§āĻĻā§āϧ āĻāϰā§āĻāĻŋāϞ my cries â āĻāĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻāĻŋā§āĻāĻžāϰ with force and fright â āĻŦāϞāĻĒā§āϰāϝāĻŧā§āĻ āĻ āĻāϝāĻŧ āĻĻā§āĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§And tied me â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻāĻŽāĻžāĻā§ āĻŦā§āĻāϧā§āĻāĻŋāϞ on a palfrey white â āĻāĻāĻāĻŋ āϏāĻžāĻĻāĻž āĻā§āĻĄāĻŧāĻžāϰ āĻĒāĻŋāĻ ā§The palfrey â āϏā§āĻ āĻā§āĻĄāĻŧāĻžāĻāĻŋ was as fleet as wind â āĻŦāĻžāϤāĻžāϏā§āϰ āĻŽāϤ⧠āĻĻā§āϰā§āϤ āĻāĻŋāϞAnd they â āĻāĻŦāĻ āϤāĻžāϰāĻž rode furiously â āĻĒā§āϰāĻāĻŖā§āĻĄ āĻāϤāĻŋāϤ⧠āĻā§āĻāĻāĻŋāϞ behind â āĻĒāĻŋāĻāύā§They spurred â āϤāĻžāϰāĻž āĻā§āĻĄāĻŧāĻžāĻā§ āϤāĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻžāϞ amain â āĻĒā§āϰāĻāĻŖā§āĻĄāĻāĻžāĻŦā§ their steeds â āϤāĻžāĻĻā§āϰ āĻā§āĻĄāĻŧāĻžāĻā§āϞ⧠were white â āϏāĻžāĻĻāĻž āĻāĻŋāϞAnd once â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻāĻāϏāĻŽāϝāĻŧ we crossed â āĻāĻŽāϰāĻž āĻ āϤāĻŋāĻā§āϰāĻŽ āĻāϰāϞāĻžāĻŽ the shade of night â āϰāĻžāϤā§āϰ āĻ āύā§āϧāĻāĻžāϰAs sure as Heaven â āϏā§āĻŦāϰā§āĻ āϝā§āĻŽāύ āύāĻŋāĻļā§āĻāĻŋāϤāĻāĻžāĻŦā§ shall rescue me â āĻāĻŽāĻžāĻā§ āϰāĻā§āώāĻž āĻāϰāĻŦā§I have no thought â āĻāĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻā§āύ⧠āϧāĻžāϰāĻŖāĻž āύā§āĻ what men â āĻā§āĻŽāύ āϞā§āĻ they be â āϤāĻžāϰāĻžNor do I know â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻāĻŽāĻŋ āĻāĻžāύāĻŋ āύāĻž how long â āĻāϤāĻā§āώāĻŖ it is â āĻšāϝāĻŧā§āĻā§For I have lain â āĻāĻžāϰāĻŖ āĻāĻŽāĻŋ āĻāĻŋāϞāĻžāĻŽ entranced â āϏāĻŽā§āĻŽā§āĻšāĻŋāϤ āĻ āĻŦāϏā§āĻĨāĻžāϝāĻŧ I wis â āύāĻŋāĻļā§āĻāϝāĻŧāĻSince one â āϝāĻāύ āĻāĻāĻāύ the tallest of the five â āĻĒāĻžāĻāĻāĻāύā§āϰ āĻŽāϧā§āϝ⧠āϏāĻŦāĻā§āϝāĻŧā§ āϞāĻŽā§āĻŦāĻž āĻŦā§āϝāĻā§āϤāĻŋTook me â āĻāĻŽāĻžāĻā§ āύāĻžāĻŽāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻĻāĻŋāϞ from the palfrey’s back â āĻā§āĻĄāĻŧāĻžāϰ āĻĒāĻŋāĻ āĻĨā§āĻā§A weary woman â āĻāĻ āĻā§āϞāĻžāύā§āϤ āύāĻžāϰ⧠scarce alive â āĻĒā§āϰāĻžāϝāĻŧ āĻŽā§āϤāĻĒā§āϰāĻžāϝāĻŧSome muttered words â āĻāĻŋāĻā§ āĻŦāĻŋāĻĄāĻŧāĻŦāĻŋāĻĄāĻŧ āĻāϰ⧠āĻŦāϞāĻž āĻāĻĨāĻž his comrades â āϤāĻžāϰ āϏāĻā§āĻā§āϰāĻž spoke â āĻŦāϞāϞHe placed me â āϏ⧠āĻāĻŽāĻžāĻā§ āϰāĻžāĻāϞ underneath this oak â āĻāĻ āĻāĻ āĻāĻžāĻā§āϰ āύāĻŋāĻā§He swore â āϏ⧠āĻļāĻĒāĻĨ āĻāϰāϞ they would return â āϤāĻžāϰāĻž āĻĢāĻŋāϰ⧠āĻāϏāĻŦā§ with haste â āĻĻā§āϰā§āϤWhither â āĻā§āĻĨāĻžāϝāĻŧ they went â āϤāĻžāϰāĻž āĻā§āϞ I cannot tell â āĻāĻŽāĻŋ āĻŦāϞāϤ⧠āĻĒāĻžāϰāĻŋ āύāĻžI thought â āĻāĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻŽāύ⧠āĻšāϞ⧠I heard â āĻāĻŽāĻŋ āĻļā§āύā§āĻāĻŋāϞāĻžāĻŽ some minutes past â āĻāĻŋāĻā§āĻā§āώāĻŖ āĻāĻā§Sounds â āĻļāĻŦā§āĻĻ as of â āϝā§āύ a castle bell â āĻĻā§āϰā§āĻā§āϰ āĻāĻŖā§āĻāĻžāϧā§āĻŦāύāĻŋ
Coleridge beautifully combines pathos with mystery. Geraldine’s story of being kidnapped, her weak and gentle voice, and her helpless condition naturally make Christabel feel sympathy for her. At the same time, the poet creates a sense of doubt by leaving many questions unanswered. Geraldine cannot clearly explain who the warriors were or how she came to be alone in the forest, which makes her story seem suspicious. In this way, Coleridge keeps the readers uncertain about whether she is speaking the truth. Her extraordinary beauty and gentle manner hide a mysterious and possibly dangerous nature. Through this contrast, Coleridge builds suspense and prepares the reader for Geraldine’s growing influence over Christabel. The passage also highlights one of the central Gothic ideas of the poemâthat evil often appears in the attractive disguise of beauty and innocence.
Stretch forth thy hand (thus ended she).
And help a wretched maid to flee.
Then Christabel stretched forth her hand,
And comforted fair Geraldine:
O well, bright dame! may you command
The service of Sir Leoline;
And gladly our stout chivalry
Will he send forth and friends withal
To guide and guard you safe and free
Home to your noble father’s hall.
She rose: and forth with steps they passed
That strove to be, and were not, fast.
Her gracious stars the lady blest,
And thus spake on sweet Christabel:
All our household are at rest,
The hall as silent as the cell;
Sir Leoline is weak in health,
And may not well awakened be,
But we will move as if in stealth,
And I beseech your courtesy,
This night, to share your couch with me.
They crossed the moat, and Christabel
Took the key that fitted well;
A little door she opened straight,
All in the middle of the gate;
The gate that was ironed within and without,
Where an army in battle array had marched out.
The lady sank, belike through pain,
And Christabel with might and main
Lifted her up, a weary weight,
Over the threshold of the gate:
Then the lady rose again,
Stretch forth â āĻŦāĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻĻāĻžāĻ thy hand â āϤā§āĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻšāĻžāϤ thus ended she â āĻāĻāĻžāĻŦā§āĻ āϏ⧠āĻāĻĨāĻž āĻļā§āώ āĻāϰāϞAnd help â āĻāĻŦāĻ āϏāĻžāĻšāĻžāϝā§āϝ āĻāϰ⧠a wretched maid â āĻāĻ āĻ āϏāĻšāĻžāϝāĻŧ āϤāϰā§āĻŖā§āĻā§ to flee â āĻĒāĻžāϞāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āϝā§āϤā§Then â āϤāĻāύ Christabel â āĻā§āϰāĻŋāϏā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§āϞ stretched forth â āĻŦāĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻĻāĻŋāϞ her hand â āϤāĻžāϰ āĻšāĻžāϤAnd comforted â āĻāĻŦāĻ āϏāĻžāύā§āϤā§āĻŦāύāĻž āĻĻāĻŋāϞ fair Geraldine â āϏā§āύā§āĻĻāϰ⧠āĻā§āϰāĻžāϞā§āĻĄāĻŋāύāĻā§O well â āĻāĻšāĻž āύāĻŋāĻļā§āĻāϝāĻŧāĻ bright dame â āϏā§āύā§āĻĻāϰ⧠āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻž may you command â āĻāĻĒāύāĻŋ āĻāĻĻā§āĻļ āĻāϰāϤ⧠āĻĒāĻžāϰā§āύThe service â āϏā§āĻŦāĻž of Sir Leoline â āϏā§āϝāĻžāϰ āϞāĻŋāĻāϞāĻžāĻāύā§āϰAnd gladly â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻāύāύā§āĻĻā§āϰ āϏāĻā§āĻā§ our stout chivalry â āĻāĻŽāĻžāĻĻā§āϰ āĻŦā§āϰ āϝā§āĻĻā§āϧāĻžāϰāĻžWill he send forth â āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āĻĒāĻžāĻ āĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻĻā§āĻŦā§āύ and friends withal â āĻāĻŦāĻ āϏāĻā§āĻā§āĻĻā§āϰāĻTo guide â āĻĒāĻĨ āĻĻā§āĻāĻžāϤ⧠and guard you â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻāĻĒāύāĻžāĻā§ āϰāĻā§āώāĻž āĻāϰāϤ⧠safe and free â āύāĻŋāϰāĻžāĻĒāĻĻā§ āĻ āύāĻŋāĻļā§āĻāĻŋāύā§āϤā§Home â āĻŦāĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϤ⧠to your noble father’s hall â āĻāĻĒāύāĻžāϰ āĻ āĻāĻŋāĻāĻžāϤ āĻĒāĻŋāϤāĻžāϰ āĻĒā§āϰāĻžāϏāĻžāĻĻā§She rose â āϏ⧠āĻāĻ ā§ āĻĻāĻžāĻāĻĄāĻŧāĻžāϞ and forth â āĻāĻŦāĻ āϤāĻžāϰāĻĒāϰ with steps â āĻĒāĻĻāĻā§āώā§āĻĒā§ they passed â āϤāĻžāϰāĻž āĻāĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻāϞāϞThat strove â āϝāĻž āĻā§āώā§āĻāĻž āĻāϰāĻāĻŋāϞ to be â āĻšāϤ⧠and were not â āĻāĻŋāύā§āϤ⧠āĻšāϞ⧠āύāĻž fast â āĻĻā§āϰā§āϤHer gracious stars â āϤāĻžāϰ āĻļā§āĻ āύāĻā§āώāϤā§āϰāĻā§āϞ⧠the lady blest â āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻžāĻā§ āĻāĻļā§āϰā§āĻŦāĻžāĻĻ āĻāϰāϞAnd thus â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻāĻāĻžāĻŦā§ spake on â āĻŦāϞāϤ⧠āϞāĻžāĻāϞ sweet Christabel â āĻŽāϧā§āϰ āĻā§āϰāĻŋāϏā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§āϞAll our household â āĻāĻŽāĻžāĻĻā§āϰ āĻĒā§āϰ⧠āĻĒāϰāĻŋāĻŦāĻžāϰ are at rest â āĻā§āĻŽāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻāĻā§The hall â āĻĒā§āϰāĻžāϏāĻžāĻĻā§āϰ āĻšāϞāĻāϰ as silent â āĻāϤāĻāĻžāĻ āύā§āϰāĻŦ as the cell â āϝā§āύ āĻāĻāĻāĻŋ āĻāĻā§āώSir Leoline â āϏā§āϝāĻžāϰ āϞāĻŋāĻāϞāĻžāĻāύ is weak in health â āϏā§āĻŦāĻžāϏā§āĻĨā§āϝ⧠āĻĻā§āϰā§āĻŦāϞAnd may not â āĻāĻŦāĻ āϤāĻžāĻā§ well awakened be â āĻāĻžāĻāĻžāύ⧠āĻāĻāĻŋāϤ āύāϝāĻŧBut â āĻāĻŋāύā§āϤ⧠we will move â āĻāĻŽāϰāĻž āĻāϞāĻŦ as if in stealth â āϝā§āύ āύāĻŋāĻāĻļāĻŦā§āĻĻā§And I beseech â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻāĻŽāĻŋ āĻ āύā§āϰā§āϧ āĻāϰāĻāĻŋ your courtesy â āĻāĻĒāύāĻžāϰ āϏā§āĻāύā§āϝāĻŦā§āϧāĻā§This night â āĻāĻ āϰāĻžāϤ⧠to share â āĻāĻžāĻ āĻāϰ⧠āύāĻŋāϤ⧠your couch â āĻāĻĒāύāĻžāϰ āĻļāϝā§āϝāĻž with me â āĻāĻŽāĻžāϰ āϏāĻā§āĻā§They crossed â āϤāĻžāϰāĻž āĻĒāĻžāϰ āĻšāϞ⧠the moat â āĻĒāϰāĻŋāĻāĻžAnd Christabel â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻā§āϰāĻŋāϏā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§āϞ took the key â āĻāĻžāĻŦāĻŋāĻāĻŋ āύāĻŋāϞ that fitted well â āϝā§āĻāĻŋ āĻ āĻŋāĻāĻŽāϤ⧠āĻŽāĻžāύāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻā§āϞA little door â āĻāĻāĻāĻŋ āĻā§āĻ āĻĻāϰāĻāĻž she opened â āϏ⧠āĻā§āϞāϞ straight â āϏāĻā§āĻā§ āϏāĻā§āĻā§All in the middle â āĻ āĻŋāĻ āĻŽāĻžāĻāĻāĻžāύ⧠of the gate â āĻĢāĻāĻā§āϰThe gate â āĻĢāĻāĻāĻāĻŋ that was ironed â āϞā§āĻšāĻž āĻĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻŦāĻžāĻāϧāĻžāύ⧠āĻāĻŋāϞ within and without â āĻā§āϤāϰ⧠āĻ āĻŦāĻžāĻāϰā§Where â āϝā§āĻāĻžāύ āĻĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ an army â āĻāĻāĻāĻŋ āϏā§āύā§āϝāĻĻāϞ in battle array â āϝā§āĻĻā§āϧā§āϰ āϏāĻžāĻā§ had marched out â āĻŦā§āϰāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§āĻāĻŋāϞThe lady â āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻž sank â āϞā§āĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻĒāĻĄāĻŧāϞā§āύ belike through pain â āϏāĻŽā§āĻāĻŦāϤ āϝāύā§āϤā§āϰāĻŖāĻžāϝāĻŧAnd Christabel â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻā§āϰāĻŋāϏā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§āϞ with might and main â āϏāĻŽāϏā§āϤ āĻļāĻā§āϤāĻŋ āĻĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§Lifted her up â āϤāĻžāĻā§ āϤā§āϞ⧠āϧāϰāϞ a weary weight â āĻāĻ āĻā§āϞāĻžāύā§āϤ āĻāĻžāϰā§āϰ āĻŽāϤā§Over â āĻĒāĻžāϰ āĻāϰ⧠the threshold â āĻĻā§āϰāĻā§āĻĄāĻŧāĻž of the gate â āĻĢāĻāĻā§āϰThen â āϤāĻžāϰāĻĒāϰ the lady â āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻž rose again â āĻāĻŦāĻžāϰ āĻāĻ ā§ āĻĻāĻžāĻāĻĄāĻŧāĻžāϞ
This passage highlights Christabel’s innocence, kindness, and unwavering faith in human goodness. Deeply moved by Geraldine’s apparent suffering, she welcomes the stranger into her home without any suspicion. Coleridge uses this act of generosity to create powerful dramatic irony, because the reader gradually senses that Geraldine may not be what she seems. The quiet castle, the secret entry, and the crossing of the moat and threshold all carry symbolic meaning, suggesting that a mysterious evil is entering a place of safety and innocence. Geraldine’s sudden weakness at the gate further hints at her supernatural nature. Through these details, Coleridge skillfully combines Gothic atmosphere with symbolism to show how innocence can become vulnerable when it trusts appearances too easily.
And moved, as she were not in pain.
So free from danger, free from fear,
They crossed the court: right glad they were.
And Christabel devoutly cried
To the lady by her side,
Praise we the Virgin all divine
Who hath rescued thee from thy distress!
Alas, alas! said Geraldine,
I cannot speak for weariness.
So free from danger, free from fear,
They crossed the court: right glad they were.
Outside her kennel, the mastiff old
Lay fast asleep, in moonshine cold.
The mastiff old did not awake,
Yet she an angry moan did make!
And what can ail the mastiff bitch?
Never till now she uttered yell
Beneath the eye of Christabel.
Perhaps it is the owlet’s scritch:
For what can ail the mastiff bitch?
They passed the hall, that echoes still,
Pass as lightly as you will!
The brands were flat, the brands were dying,
Amid their own white ashes lying;
But when the lady passed, there came
A tongue of light, a fit of flame;
And Christabel saw the lady’s eye,
And nothing else saw she thereby,
Save the boss of the shield of Sir Leoline tall,
Which hung in a murky old niche in the wall.
O softly tread, said Christabel,
My father seldom sleepeth well.
Sweet Christabel her feet doth bare,
And jealous of the listening air
They steal their way from stair to stair,
Now in glimmer, and now in gloom,
And now they pass the Baron’s room,
And moved â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻāϞāϞ as she were not in pain â āϝā§āύ āϤāĻžāϰ āĻā§āύ⧠āĻŦā§āϝāĻĨāĻžāĻ āύā§āĻSo free from danger â āĻāϤ āĻŦāĻŋāĻĒāĻĻāĻŽā§āĻā§āϤ free from fear â āĻāϝāĻŧāĻŽā§āĻā§āϤThey crossed â āϤāĻžāϰāĻž āĻĒāĻžāϰ āĻšāϞ⧠the court â āĻĒā§āϰāĻžāϏāĻžāĻĻā§āϰ āĻĒā§āϰāĻžāĻā§āĻāĻŖ right glad â āĻā§āĻŦ āĻāύāύā§āĻĻāĻŋāϤ they were â āĻāĻŋāϞAnd Christabel â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻā§āϰāĻŋāϏā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§āϞ devoutly cried â āĻāĻā§āϤāĻŋāĻāϰ⧠āĻŦāϞāϞTo the lady â āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻžāĻā§ by her side â āϤāĻžāϰ āĻĒāĻžāĻļā§Praise we â āĻāϞ⧠āĻāĻŽāϰāĻž āĻĒā§āϰāĻļāĻāϏāĻž āĻāϰāĻŋ the Virgin all divine â āĻāĻļā§āĻŦāϰāĻŋāĻ āĻā§āĻŽāĻžāϰ⧠āĻŽā§āϰāĻŋāϰWho hath rescued thee â āϝāĻŋāύāĻŋ āϤā§āĻŽāĻžāĻā§ āĻāĻĻā§āϧāĻžāϰ āĻāϰā§āĻā§āύ from thy distress â āϤā§āĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻŦāĻŋāĻĒāĻĻ āĻĨā§āĻā§Alas alas â āĻšāĻžāϝāĻŧ āĻšāĻžāϝāĻŧ said Geraldine â āĻā§āϰāĻžāϞā§āĻĄāĻŋāύ āĻŦāϞāϞI cannot speak â āĻāĻŽāĻŋ āĻāĻĨāĻž āĻŦāϞāϤ⧠āĻĒāĻžāϰāĻāĻŋ āύāĻž for weariness â āĻā§āϞāĻžāύā§āϤāĻŋāϰ āĻāĻžāϰāĻŖā§So free from danger â āĻāϤ āĻŦāĻŋāĻĒāĻĻāĻŽā§āĻā§āϤ free from fear â āĻāϝāĻŧāĻŽā§āĻā§āϤThey crossed â āϤāĻžāϰāĻž āĻĒāĻžāϰ āĻšāϞ⧠the court â āĻĒā§āϰāĻžāϏāĻžāĻĻā§āϰ āĻĒā§āϰāĻžāĻā§āĻāĻŖ right glad â āĻā§āĻŦ āĻāύāύā§āĻĻāĻŋāϤ they were â āĻāĻŋāϞOutside â āĻŦāĻžāĻāϰ⧠her kennel â āϤāĻžāϰ āĻā§āĻāϝāĻŧāĻžāĻĄāĻŧā§āϰ the mastiff old â āĻŦā§āĻĻā§āϧ āĻŽāĻžāϏā§āĻāĻŋāĻĢ āĻā§āĻā§āϰāĻāĻŋLay â āĻļā§āϝāĻŧā§ āĻāĻŋāϞ fast asleep â āĻāĻā§āϰ āĻā§āĻŽā§ in moonshine cold â āĻ āĻžāύā§āĻĄāĻž āĻāĻžāĻāĻĻā§āϰ āĻāϞā§āϝāĻŧThe mastiff old â āĻŦā§āĻĻā§āϧ āĻŽāĻžāϏā§āĻāĻŋāĻĢāĻāĻŋ did not awake â āĻā§āĻā§ āĻāĻ āϞ āύāĻžYet â āϤāĻŦā§āĻ she â āϏ⧠an angry moan â āϰāĻžāĻāĻžāύā§āĻŦāĻŋāϤ āĻā§āĻāĻžāύāĻŋ did make â āĻāϰāϞAnd what â āĻāϰ āĻā§ can ail â āĻšāϝāĻŧā§āĻā§ the mastiff bitch â āĻŽāĻžāĻĻā§ āĻŽāĻžāϏā§āĻāĻŋāĻĢ āĻā§āĻā§āϰāĻāĻŋāϰNever till now â āĻāĻ āĻĒāϰā§āϝāύā§āϤ āĻāĻāύāĻ āύāϝāĻŧ she uttered â āϏ⧠āĻāĻā§āĻāĻžāϰāĻŖ āĻāϰā§āĻā§ yell â āĻāĻŋā§āĻāĻžāϰBeneath â āϏāĻžāĻŽāύ⧠the eye â āĻā§āĻā§āϰ of Christabel â āĻā§āϰāĻŋāϏā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§āϞā§āϰPerhaps â āĻšāϝāĻŧāϤ⧠it is â āĻāĻāĻŋ the owlet’s scritch â āĻā§āĻ āĻĒā§āĻāĻāĻžāϰ āĻāϰā§āĻāĻļ āĻĄāĻžāĻFor what â āĻāĻžāϰāĻŖ āĻā§ can ail â āĻšāϝāĻŧā§āĻā§ the mastiff bitch â āĻŽāĻžāĻĻā§ āĻŽāĻžāϏā§āĻāĻŋāĻĢ āĻā§āĻā§āϰāĻāĻŋāϰThey passed â āϤāĻžāϰāĻž āĻ āϤāĻŋāĻā§āϰāĻŽ āĻāϰāϞ the hall â āĻšāϞāĻāϰ that echoes still â āϝā§āĻāĻžāύ⧠āĻāĻāύāĻ āĻĒā§āϰāϤāĻŋāϧā§āĻŦāύāĻŋ āĻļā§āύāĻž āϝāĻžāϝāĻŧPass â āĻāϞ⧠as lightly as you will â āϝāϤāĻāĻž āϏāĻŽā§āĻāĻŦ āύāĻŋāĻāĻļāĻŦā§āĻĻā§The brands â āĻā§āĻŦāϞāύā§āϤ āĻāĻžāĻ āĻā§āϞ⧠were flat â āĻĒā§āϰāĻžāϝāĻŧ āύāĻŋāĻā§ āĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§āĻāĻŋāϞThe brands â āĻāĻžāĻ āĻā§āϞ⧠were dying â āύāĻŋāĻā§ āĻāϏāĻāĻŋāϞAmid â āĻŽāϧā§āϝ⧠their own white ashes â āύāĻŋāĻā§āĻĻā§āϰ āϏāĻžāĻĻāĻž āĻāĻžāĻāϝāĻŧā§āϰ lying â āĻĒāĻĄāĻŧā§ āĻāĻŋāϞBut when â āĻāĻŋāύā§āϤ⧠āϝāĻāύ the lady passed â āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻž āĻĒāĻžāϰ āĻšāϞā§āύThere came â āĻā§āĻŦāϞ⧠āĻāĻ āϞ a tongue of light â āĻāĻā§āύā§āϰ āĻāĻāĻāĻŋ āĻļāĻŋāĻāĻž a fit of flame â āĻšāĻ āĻžā§ āĻ āĻā§āύāĻŋāĻļāĻŋāĻāĻžAnd Christabel â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻā§āϰāĻŋāϏā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§āϞ saw â āĻĻā§āĻāϞ the lady’s eye â āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻžāϰ āĻā§āĻAnd nothing else â āĻāϰ āĻāĻŋāĻā§āĻ āύāĻž saw she â āϏ⧠āĻĻā§āĻāϞ thereby â āϤāĻāύSave â āĻļā§āϧ⧠the boss â āĻŽāĻžāĻā§āϰ āĻāĻāĻā§ āϧāĻžāϤāĻŦ āĻ āĻāĻļ of the shield â āĻĸāĻžāϞā§āϰOf Sir Leoline tall â āĻĻā§āϰā§āĻāĻĻā§āĻšā§ āϏā§āϝāĻžāϰ āϞāĻŋāĻāϞāĻžāĻāύā§āϰWhich hung â āϝāĻž āĻā§āϞāĻāĻŋāϞ in a murky old niche â āĻāĻāĻāĻŋ āĻ āύā§āϧāĻāĻžāϰ āĻĒā§āϰā§āύ⧠āĻā§āϞā§āĻā§āĻāĻŋāϤ⧠in the wall â āĻĻā§āĻāϝāĻŧāĻžāϞā§O softly tread â āĻāϏā§āϤ⧠āĻĒāĻž āĻĢā§āϞ⧠said Christabel â āĻā§āϰāĻŋāϏā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§āϞ āĻŦāϞāϞMy father â āĻāĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻŦāĻžāĻŦāĻž seldom â āϏāĻšāĻā§ sleepeth well â āĻāĻžāϞ⧠āĻā§āĻŽāĻžāύ āύāĻžSweet Christabel â āĻŽāϧā§āϰ āĻā§āϰāĻŋāϏā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§āϞ her feet â āϤāĻžāϰ āĻĒāĻž doth bare â āĻāĻžāϞāĻŋ āĻāϰāϞAnd jealous â āĻāĻŦāĻ āϏāϤāϰā§āĻ of the listening air â āĻāĻžāϰāĻĒāĻžāĻļā§āϰ āĻļā§āϰāĻŦāĻŖāĻļā§āϞ āύā§āϰāĻŦāϤāĻž āϏāĻŽā§āĻĒāϰā§āĻā§They steal â āϤāĻžāϰāĻž āύāĻŋāĻāĻļāĻŦā§āĻĻā§ āĻāĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻā§āϞ their way â āϤāĻžāĻĻā§āϰ āĻĒāĻĨ āϧāϰā§From stair to stair â āĻāĻ āϏāĻŋāĻāĻĄāĻŧāĻŋ āĻĨā§āĻā§ āĻāϰā§āĻ āϏāĻŋāĻāĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϤā§Now in glimmer â āĻāĻāύāĻ āĻā§āώā§āĻŖ āĻāϞā§āϝāĻŧ and now in gloom â āĻāĻŦāĻžāϰ āĻāĻāύāĻ āĻ āύā§āϧāĻāĻžāϰā§And now â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻāĻāύ they pass â āϤāĻžāϰāĻž āĻĒāĻžāϰ āĻšāĻā§āĻā§ the Baron’s room â āĻŦā§āϝāĻžāϰāύā§āϰ āĻāĻā§āώ
This passage is a fine example of Coleridge’s Gothic imagination and his ability to create suspense through suggestion rather than direct revelation. Christabel’s innocent gratitude to the Virgin Mary contrasts sharply with the mysterious signs that accompany Geraldine’s presence. The mastiff’s angry moan, the sudden flame from the dying fire, and Christabel’s strange attraction to Geraldine’s eyes all hint that Geraldine possesses supernatural powers. Although Christabel believes she has rescued an unfortunate woman, the reader gradually realizes that she has unknowingly brought danger into her own home. Through symbolism, dramatic irony, and vivid Gothic imagery, Coleridge deepens the mystery surrounding Geraldine and reinforces the theme that evil often enters quietly, disguised as innocence and helplessness.
As still as death, with stifled breath!
And now have reached her chamber door;
And now doth Geraldine press down
The rushes of the chamber floor.
The moon shines dim in the open air,
And not a moonbeam enters here.
But they without its light can see
The chamber carved so curiously,
Carved with figures strange and sweet,
All made out of the carver’s brain,
For a lady’s chamber meet:
The lamp with twofold silver chain
Is fastened to an angel’s feet.
The silver lamp burns dead and dim;
But Christabel the lamp will trim.
She trimmed the lamp, and made it bright,
And left it swinging to and fro,
While Geraldine, in wretched plight,
Sank down upon the floor below.
O weary lady, Geraldine,
I pray you, drink this cordial wine!
It is a wine of virtuous powers;
My mother made it of wild flowers.
And will your mother pity me,
Who am a maiden most forlorn?
Christabel answeredâWoe is me!
She died the hour that I was born.
I have heard the grey-haired friar tell
How on her death-bed she did say,
That she should hear the castle-bell
Strike twelve upon my wedding-day.
O mother dear! that thou wert here!
I would, said Geraldine, she were!
But soon with altered voice, said sheâ
‘Off, wandering mother! Peak and pine!
I have power to bid thee flee.’
Alas! what ails poor Geraldine?
Why stares she with unsettled eye?
Can she the bodiless dead espy?
And why with hollow voice cries she,
‘Off, woman, off! this hour is mineâ
As still as death â āĻŽā§āϤā§āϝā§āϰ āĻŽāϤ⧠āύāĻŋāϏā§āϤāĻŦā§āϧ with stifled breath â āϰā§āĻĻā§āϧ āĻļā§āĻŦāĻžāϏā§And now â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻāĻāύ have reached â āĻĒā§āĻāĻā§ āĻā§āĻā§ her chamber door â āϤāĻžāϰ āĻāĻā§āώā§āϰ āĻĻāϰāĻāĻžāϝāĻŧAnd now â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻāĻāύ doth Geraldine â āĻā§āϰāĻžāϞā§āĻĄāĻŋāύ press down â āĻĒāĻĻāĻĻāϞāĻŋāϤ āĻāϰāĻā§The rushes â āĻŽā§āĻā§āϤ⧠āĻŦāĻŋāĻāĻžāύ⧠āύāϞāĻāĻžāĻāĻĄāĻŧāĻž of the chamber floor â āĻāĻā§āώā§āϰ āĻŽā§āĻā§āϰThe moon â āĻāĻžāĻāĻĻ shines dim â āĻŽā§āϞāĻžāύāĻāĻžāĻŦā§ āĻā§āĻŦāϞāĻā§ in the open air â āĻā§āϞāĻž āĻāĻāĻžāĻļā§And not â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻāĻāĻāĻŋāĻ āύāϝāĻŧ a moonbeam â āĻāĻžāĻāĻĻā§āϰ āĻāĻŋāϰāĻŖ enters here â āĻāĻāĻžāύ⧠āĻĒā§āϰāĻŦā§āĻļ āĻāϰā§But they â āĻāĻŋāύā§āϤ⧠āϤāĻžāϰāĻž without its light â āϤāĻžāϰ āĻāϞ⧠āĻāĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻžāĻ can see â āĻĻā§āĻāϤ⧠āĻĒāĻžāϰā§The chamber â āĻāĻā§āώāĻāĻŋ carved so curiously â āĻāϤ āĻāĻŽā§āĻāĻžāϰ āĻā§āĻĻāĻžāĻ āĻāϰāĻžCarved â āĻā§āĻĻāĻžāĻ āĻāϰāĻž with figures â āĻŦāĻŋāĻāĻŋāύā§āύ āĻŽā§āϰā§āϤāĻŋ āĻĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ strange and sweet â āĻ āĻĻā§āĻā§āϤ āĻ āϏā§āύā§āĻĻāϰAll made â āϏāĻŦāĻ āϤā§āϰāĻŋ out of â āĻĨā§āĻā§ the carver’s brain â āĻā§āĻĻāĻžāĻāĻāĻžāϰā§āϰ āĻāϞā§āĻĒāύāĻžFor â āϝāĻž a lady’s chamber â āĻāĻ āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻžāϰ āĻāĻā§āώā§āϰ meet â āĻāĻĒāϝā§āĻā§āϤThe lamp â āĻĒā§āϰāĻĻā§āĻĒāĻāĻŋ with twofold silver chain â āĻĻā§āĻŦāĻŋāĻā§āĻŖ āϰā§āĻĒāĻžāϰ āĻļāĻŋāĻāϞā§Is fastened â āĻŦāĻžāĻāϧāĻž āĻāĻā§ to an angel’s feet â āĻāĻ āĻĻā§āĻŦāĻĻā§āϤā§āϰ āĻĒāĻžāϝāĻŧā§The silver lamp â āϰā§āĻĒāĻžāϰ āĻĒā§āϰāĻĻā§āĻĒāĻāĻŋ burns â āĻā§āĻŦāϞāĻā§ dead and dim â āĻŽā§āϞāĻžāύ āĻ āĻā§āώā§āĻŖāĻāĻžāĻŦā§But â āĻāĻŋāύā§āϤ⧠Christabel â āĻā§āϰāĻŋāϏā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§āϞ the lamp â āĻĒā§āϰāĻĻā§āĻĒāĻāĻŋ will trim â āĻāĻā§āĻā§āĻŦāϞ āĻāϰ⧠āĻĻāĻŋāϞShe trimmed â āϏ⧠āĻ āĻŋāĻ āĻāϰ⧠āĻĻāĻŋāϞ the lamp â āĻĒā§āϰāĻĻā§āĻĒāĻāĻŋ and made it bright â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻāĻā§āĻā§āĻŦāϞ āĻāϰāϞAnd left it â āĻāĻŦāĻ āϏā§āĻāĻŋāĻā§ āϰā§āĻā§ āĻĻāĻŋāϞ swinging to and fro â āĻĻā§āϞāϤ⧠āĻĻā§āϞāϤā§While â āĻāĻĻāĻŋāĻā§ Geraldine â āĻā§āϰāĻžāϞā§āĻĄāĻŋāύ in wretched plight â āĻ āϏāĻšāĻžāϝāĻŧ āĻ āĻŦāϏā§āĻĨāĻžāϝāĻŧSank down â āύā§āϝāĻŧā§ āĻĒāĻĄāĻŧāϞ upon the floor â āĻŽā§āĻā§āϤ⧠below â āύāĻŋāĻā§O weary lady â āĻšā§ āĻā§āϞāĻžāύā§āϤ āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻž Geraldine â āĻā§āϰāĻžāϞā§āĻĄāĻŋāύI pray you â āĻāĻŽāĻŋ āĻāĻĒāύāĻžāĻā§ āĻ āύā§āϰā§āϧ āĻāϰāĻāĻŋ drink â āĻĒāĻžāύ āĻāϰā§āύ this cordial wine â āĻāĻ āĻļāĻā§āϤāĻŋāĻŦāϰā§āϧāĻ āĻŽāĻĻIt is â āĻāĻāĻŋ a wine â āĻāĻāĻāĻŋ āĻŽāĻĻ of virtuous powers â āĻāĻĒāĻāĻžāϰ⧠āĻā§āĻŖāϏāĻŽā§āĻĒāύā§āύMy mother â āĻāĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻŽāĻž made it â āĻāĻāĻŋ āϤā§āϰāĻŋ āĻāϰā§āĻāĻŋāϞā§āύ of wild flowers â āĻŦā§āύ⧠āĻĢā§āϞ āĻĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§And will â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻāĻŋ your mother â āϤā§āĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻŽāĻž pity me â āĻāĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻĒā§āϰāϤāĻŋ āĻĻāϝāĻŧāĻž āĻāϰāĻŦā§āύWho am â āϝ⧠āĻāĻŽāĻŋ a maiden â āĻāĻ āĻā§āĻŽāĻžāϰ⧠most forlorn â āĻ āϤā§āϝāύā§āϤ āĻ āϏāĻšāĻžāϝāĻŧChristabel answered â āĻā§āϰāĻŋāϏā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§āϞ āĻāϤā§āϤāϰ āĻĻāĻŋāϞ Woe is me â āĻšāĻžāϝāĻŧ āĻāĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻĻā§āϰā§āĻāĻžāĻā§āϝShe died â āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āĻŽāĻžāϰāĻž āĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§āĻāĻŋāϞā§āύ the hour â āϏā§āĻ āϏāĻŽāϝāĻŧ that I was born â āϝāĻāύ āĻāĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻāύā§āĻŽ āĻšāϝāĻŧā§āĻāĻŋāϞI have heard â āĻāĻŽāĻŋ āĻļā§āύā§āĻāĻŋ the grey-haired friar â āϧā§āϏāϰ āĻā§āϞā§āϰ āϏāύā§āύā§āϝāĻžāϏā§āϰ āĻāĻžāĻā§Tell â āĻŦāϞāϤā§How â āĻā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§ on her death-bed â āϤāĻžāϰ āĻŽā§āϤā§āϝā§āĻļāϝā§āϝāĻžāϝāĻŧ she did say â āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āĻŦāϞā§āĻāĻŋāϞā§āύThat she â āϝ⧠āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ should hear â āĻļā§āύāĻŦā§āύ the castle bell â āĻĻā§āϰā§āĻā§āϰ āĻāĻŖā§āĻāĻžāϧā§āĻŦāύāĻŋStrike twelve â āĻŦāĻžāϰā§āĻāĻž āĻŦāĻžāĻāϤ⧠upon my wedding-day â āĻāĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻŦāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§āϰ āĻĻāĻŋāύā§O mother dear â āĻāĻšā§ āĻĒā§āϰāĻŋāϝāĻŧ āĻŽāĻž that thou wert here â āϝāĻĻāĻŋ āϤā§āĻŽāĻŋ āĻāĻāĻžāύ⧠āĻĨāĻžāĻāϤā§I would â āĻāĻŽāĻŋāĻ āĻāĻžāĻāϤāĻžāĻŽ said Geraldine â āĻā§āϰāĻžāϞā§āĻĄāĻŋāύ āĻŦāϞāϞ she were â āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āĻāĻāĻžāύ⧠āĻĨāĻžāĻā§āύBut soon â āĻāĻŋāύā§āϤ⧠āĻļāĻŋāĻāĻāĻŋāϰāĻ with altered voice â āĻĒāϰāĻŋāĻŦāϰā§āϤāĻŋāϤ āĻāĻŖā§āĻ ā§ said she â āϏ⧠āĻŦāϞāϞOff â āĻĻā§āϰ āĻšāĻ wandering mother â āĻā§āϰ⧠āĻŦā§āĻĄāĻŧāĻžāύ⧠āĻŽāĻžPeak and pine â āĻĒāϰā§āĻŦāϤ āĻāϰ āĻĒāĻžāĻāύāĻŦāύI have power â āĻāĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻā§āώāĻŽāϤāĻž āĻāĻā§ to bid thee flee â āϤā§āĻŽāĻžāĻā§ āϤāĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻĻā§āĻāϝāĻŧāĻžāϰAlas â āĻšāĻžāϝāĻŧ what ails â āĻā§ āĻšāϝāĻŧā§āĻā§ poor Geraldine â āĻŦā§āĻāĻžāϰāĻŋ āĻā§āϰāĻžāϞā§āĻĄāĻŋāύā§āϰWhy â āĻā§āύ stares she â āϏ⧠āϤāĻžāĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻāĻā§ with unsettled eye â āĻ āϏā§āĻĨāĻŋāϰ āĻā§āĻā§Can she â āϏ⧠āĻāĻŋ āĻĒāĻžāϰ⧠the bodiless dead â āĻĻā§āĻšāĻšā§āύ āĻŽā§āϤ āĻāϤā§āĻŽāĻžāĻĻā§āϰ espy â āĻĻā§āĻāϤā§And why â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻā§āύ with hollow voice â āĻĢāĻžāĻāĻĒāĻž āĻāĻŖā§āĻ ā§ cries she â āϏ⧠āĻāĻŋā§āĻāĻžāϰ āĻāϰā§Off woman off â āĻĻā§āϰ āĻšāĻ āύāĻžāϰ⧠āĻĻā§āϰ āĻšāĻThis hour â āĻāĻ āϏāĻŽāϝāĻŧāĻāĻŋ is mine â āĻāĻŽāĻžāϰ
This passage marks a turning point in Christabel, where mystery begins to develop into open supernatural horror. Christabel’s kindness, shown through her warm welcome, the offering of her mother’s wine, and her memories of her deceased mother, highlights her innocence and emotional vulnerability. In sharp contrast, Geraldine’s sudden change of voice and her command to Christabel’s mother’s spirit reveal a dark and mysterious power hidden beneath her gentle appearance. Coleridge skillfully uses symbolism, prophecy, and dramatic irony to deepen the Gothic atmosphere. The contrast between Christabel’s purity and Geraldine’s sinister presence strengthens the poem’s central conflict between innocence and evil while leaving the reader in suspense about Geraldine’s true identity.
Though thou her guardian spirit be,
Off, woman, off! ’tis given to me.’
Then Christabel knelt by the lady’s side,
And raised to heaven her eyes so blueâ
Alas! said she, this ghastly rideâ
Dear lady! it hath wildered you!
The lady wiped her moist cold brow,
And faintly said, ‘ ’tis over now!’
Again the wild-flower wine she drank:
Her fair large eyes ‘gan glitter bright,
And from the floor whereon she sank,
The lofty lady stood upright:
She was most beautiful to see,
Like a lady of a far countrèe.
And thus the lofty lady spakeâ
‘All they who live in the upper sky,
Do love you, holy Christabel!
And you love them, and for their sake
And for the good which me befel,
Even I in my degree will try,
Fair maiden, to requite you well.
But now unrobe yourself; for I
Must pray, ere yet in bed I lie.’
Quoth Christabel, So let it be!
And as the lady bade, did she.
Her gentle limbs did she undress,
And lay down in her loveliness.
But through her brain of weal and woe
So many thoughts moved to and fro,
That vain it were her lids to close;
So half-way from the bed she rose,
And on her elbow did recline
To look at the lady Geraldine.
Beneath the lamp the lady bowed,
And slowly rolled her eyes around;
Then drawing in her breath aloud,
Like one that shuddered, she unbound
The cincture from beneath her breast:
Her silken robe, and inner vest,
Dropt to her feet, and full in view,
Behold! her bosom and half her sideâ
A sight to dream of, not to tell!
O shield her! shield sweet Christabel!
Though â āϝāĻĻāĻŋāĻ thou â āϤā§āĻŽāĻŋ her guardian spirit â āϤāĻžāϰ āϰāĻā§āώāĻžāĻāϰā§āϤāĻž āĻāϤā§āĻŽāĻž be â āĻšāĻOff woman off â āĻĻā§āϰ āĻšāĻ āύāĻžāϰ⧠āĻĻā§āϰ āĻšāĻ ’tis given to me â āĻāĻāĻŋ āĻāĻŽāĻžāĻā§ āĻĻā§āĻāϝāĻŧāĻž āĻšāϝāĻŧā§āĻā§Then â āϤāĻžāϰāĻĒāϰ Christabel â āĻā§āϰāĻŋāϏā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§āϞ knelt â āĻšāĻžāĻāĻā§ āĻā§āĻĄāĻŧā§ āĻŦāϏāϞ by the lady’s side â āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻžāϰ āĻĒāĻžāĻļā§And raised â āĻāĻŦāĻ āϤā§āϞāϞ to heaven â āϏā§āĻŦāϰā§āĻā§āϰ āĻĻāĻŋāĻā§ her eyes so blue â āϤāĻžāϰ āύā§āϞ āĻā§āĻAlas â āĻšāĻžāϝāĻŧ said she â āϏ⧠āĻŦāϞāϞ this ghastly ride â āĻāĻ āĻāϝāĻŧāĻāĻāϰ āϝāĻžāϤā§āϰāĻžDear lady â āĻĒā§āϰāĻŋāϝāĻŧ āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻž it hath wildered you â āĻāĻāĻŋ āĻāĻĒāύāĻžāĻā§ āĻŦāĻŋāĻā§āϰāĻžāύā§āϤ āĻāϰ⧠āĻĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§āĻā§The lady â āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻž wiped â āĻŽā§āĻā§ āύāĻŋāϞā§āύ her moist cold brow â āϤāĻžāϰ āϏā§āϝāĻžāĻāϤāϏā§āĻāϤ⧠āĻ āĻžāύā§āĻĄāĻž āĻāĻĒāĻžāϞAnd faintly said â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻā§āώā§āĻŖāϏā§āĻŦāϰ⧠āĻŦāϞāϞā§āύ ’tis over now â āĻāĻāύ āϏāĻŦ āĻļā§āώ āĻšāϝāĻŧā§āĻā§Again â āĻāĻŦāĻžāϰ the wild-flower wine â āĻŦā§āύ⧠āĻĢā§āϞā§āϰ āϤā§āϰāĻŋ āĻŽāĻĻ she drank â āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āĻĒāĻžāύ āĻāϰāϞā§āύHer fair large eyes â āϤāĻžāϰ āϏā§āύā§āĻĻāϰ āĻŦāĻĄāĻŧ āĻŦāĻĄāĻŧ āĻā§āĻ ‘gan glitter bright â āĻāĻā§āĻā§āĻŦāϞāĻāĻžāĻŦā§ āĻāϞāĻŽāϞ āĻāϰāϤ⧠āϞāĻžāĻāϞAnd â āĻāĻŦāĻ from the floor â āĻŽā§āĻā§ āĻĨā§āĻā§ whereon she sank â āϝā§āĻāĻžāύ⧠āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āĻŦāϏ⧠āĻĒāĻĄāĻŧā§āĻāĻŋāϞā§āύThe lofty lady â āϏā§āĻĻā§āϰā§āĻ āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻž stood upright â āϏā§āĻāĻž āĻšāϝāĻŧā§ āĻĻāĻžāĻāĻĄāĻŧāĻžāϞā§āύShe was â āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āĻāĻŋāϞā§āύ most beautiful â āĻ āϤā§āϝāύā§āϤ āϏā§āύā§āĻĻāϰ to see â āĻĻā§āĻāϤā§Like â āϝā§āύ a lady â āĻāĻ āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻž of a far country â āĻĻā§āϰ āĻĻā§āĻļā§āϰAnd thus â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻāĻāĻžāĻŦā§ the lofty lady â āϏā§āĻĻā§āϰā§āĻ āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻž spake â āĻŦāϞāϞā§āύAll they â āϝāĻžāϰāĻž āϏāĻŦāĻžāĻ who live â āĻŦāĻžāϏ āĻāϰā§āύ in the upper sky â āĻāĻĒāϰā§āϰ āϏā§āĻŦāϰā§āĻāϞā§āĻā§Do love you â āϤā§āĻŽāĻžāĻā§ āĻāĻžāϞā§āĻŦāĻžāϏā§āύ holy Christabel â āĻĒāĻŦāĻŋāϤā§āϰ āĻā§āϰāĻŋāϏā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§āϞAnd you â āĻāĻŦāĻ āϤā§āĻŽāĻŋ love them â āϤāĻžāĻĻā§āϰ āĻāĻžāϞā§āĻŦāĻžāϏā§And for their sake â āĻāĻŦāĻ āϤāĻžāĻĻā§āϰ āĻāύā§āϝAnd for the good â āĻāĻŦāĻ āϝ⧠āĻāĻĒāĻāĻžāϰ which me befel â āĻāĻŽāĻŋ āĻĒā§āϝāĻŧā§āĻāĻŋEven I â āĻāĻŽāĻŋāĻ in my degree â āĻāĻŽāĻžāϰ āϏāĻžāϧā§āϝ āĻ āύā§āϝāĻžāϝāĻŧā§ will try â āĻā§āώā§āĻāĻž āĻāϰāĻŦFair maiden â āϏā§āύā§āĻĻāϰ āĻā§āĻŽāĻžāϰ⧠to requite you well â āϤā§āĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻāĻĒāĻāĻžāϰā§āϰ āĻĒā§āϰāϤāĻŋāĻĻāĻžāύ āĻĻāĻŋāϤā§But now â āĻāĻŋāύā§āϤ⧠āĻāĻāύ unrobe yourself â āϤā§āĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻĒā§āĻļāĻžāĻ āĻā§āϞ⧠āĻĢā§āϞā§For I â āĻāĻžāϰāĻŖ āĻāĻŽāĻŋ must pray â āĻĒā§āϰāĻžāϰā§āĻĨāύāĻž āĻāϰāĻŦEre yet â āĻāϰ āĻāĻā§ in bed I lie â āĻāĻŽāĻŋ āĻļāϝā§āϝāĻžāϝāĻŧ āĻļā§āĻQuoth Christabel â āĻā§āϰāĻŋāϏā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§āϞ āĻŦāϞāϞ So let it be â āϤāĻžāĻ āĻšā§āĻAnd as â āĻāĻŦāĻ āϝā§āĻŽāύ the lady bade â āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻž āĻŦāϞā§āĻāĻŋāϞā§āύ did she â āϏ⧠āϤāĻžāĻ āĻāϰāϞHer gentle limbs â āϤāĻžāϰ āĻā§āĻŽāϞ āĻ āĻā§āĻāĻā§āϞ⧠did she undress â āϏ⧠āĻĒā§āĻļāĻžāĻāĻŽā§āĻā§āϤ āĻāϰāϞAnd lay down â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻļā§āϝāĻŧā§ āĻĒāĻĄāĻŧāϞ in her loveliness â āϤāĻžāϰ āϏā§āύā§āĻĻāϰā§āϝ⧠āĻāϰāĻž āϰā§āĻĒā§But through â āĻāĻŋāύā§āϤ⧠her brain â āϤāĻžāϰ āĻŽāύ⧠of weal and woe â āϏā§āĻ-āĻĻā§āĻāĻā§āϰSo many thoughts â āĻāϤ āĻāĻžāĻŦāύāĻž moved to and fro â āĻā§āϰ⧠āĻŦā§āĻĄāĻŧāĻžāĻā§āĻāĻŋāϞThat â āϝ⧠vain it were â āĻŦā§āϝāϰā§āĻĨ āĻāĻŋāϞ her lids â āϤāĻžāϰ āĻā§āĻā§āϰ āĻĒāĻžāϤāĻž to close â āĻŦāύā§āϧ āĻāϰāĻžSo â āϤāĻžāĻ half-way â āĻ āϰā§āϧā§āĻ āĻāĻ ā§ from the bed â āĻŦāĻŋāĻāĻžāύāĻž āĻĨā§āĻā§ she rose â āϏ⧠āĻāĻ āϞAnd on her elbow â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻāύā§āĻāϝāĻŧā§āϰ āĻāϰ āĻĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ did recline â āĻšā§āϞāĻžāύ āĻĻāĻŋāϞTo look at â āĻĻā§āĻāĻžāϰ āĻāύā§āϝ the lady Geraldine â āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻž āĻā§āϰāĻžāϞā§āĻĄāĻŋāύā§āϰ āĻĻāĻŋāĻā§Beneath the lamp â āĻĒā§āϰāĻĻā§āĻĒā§āϰ āύāĻŋāĻā§ the lady bowed â āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻž āĻā§āĻāĻāϞā§āύAnd slowly â āĻāĻŦāĻ āϧā§āϰ⧠āϧā§āϰ⧠rolled her eyes around â āĻāĻžāϰāĻĻāĻŋāĻā§ āĻā§āĻ āĻā§āϰāĻžāϞā§āύThen â āϤāĻžāϰāĻĒāϰ drawing in â āĻā§āύ⧠āύāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ her breath aloud â āĻā§āϰ⧠āĻļā§āĻŦāĻžāϏ āύāĻŋāϞā§āύLike one â āϝā§āύ āĻāĻāĻāύ that shuddered â āĻļāĻŋāĻāϰ⧠āĻāĻ ā§āĻā§She unbound â āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āĻā§āϞ⧠āĻĢā§āϞāϞā§āύ the cincture â āĻā§āĻŽāϰāĻŦāύā§āϧ from beneath her breast â āĻŦāĻā§āώā§āϰ āύāĻŋāĻ āĻĨā§āĻā§Her silken robe â āϤāĻžāϰ āϰā§āĻļāĻŽāĻŋ āĻĒā§āĻļāĻžāĻ and inner vest â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻā§āϤāϰā§āϰ āĻĒā§āĻļāĻžāĻDropt â āĻāϏ⧠āĻĒāĻĄāĻŧāϞ to her feet â āϤāĻžāϰ āĻĒāĻžāϝāĻŧā§āϰ āĻāĻžāĻā§And full in view â āĻāĻŦāĻ āϏāĻŽā§āĻĒā§āϰā§āĻŖ āĻĻā§āĻļā§āϝāĻŽāĻžāύ āĻšāϞā§Behold â āĻĻā§āĻā§Her bosom and half her side â āϤāĻžāϰ āĻŦā§āĻ āĻ āĻļāϰā§āϰā§āϰ āĻāĻ āĻĒāĻžāĻļA sight â āĻāĻŽāύ āĻāĻ āĻĻā§āĻļā§āϝ to dream of â āϝāĻž āĻļā§āϧ⧠āϏā§āĻŦāĻĒā§āύ⧠āĻāϞā§āĻĒāύāĻž āĻāϰāĻž āϝāĻžāϝāĻŧ not to tell â āĻŦāϰā§āĻŖāύāĻž āĻāϰāĻž āϝāĻžāϝāĻŧ āύāĻžO shield her â āĻšā§ āĻāĻļā§āĻŦāϰ āϤāĻžāĻā§ āϰāĻā§āώāĻž āĻāϰā§āύ shield sweet Christabel â āϏā§āύāĻŋāĻā§āϧ āĻā§āϰāĻŋāϏā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§āϞāĻā§ āϰāĻā§āώāĻž āĻāϰā§āύ
This passage represents the climax of mystery and supernatural suspense in Christabel. Geraldine’s strange behaviour, her mysterious prayer, and the partial revelation of her body strongly suggest that she possesses an evil supernatural nature. Coleridge deliberately avoids describing what Christabel actually sees, leaving it to the reader’s imagination and thereby making the horror more effective. Christabel’s innocence, purity, and complete trust stand in sharp contrast to Geraldine’s hidden and sinister power. The narrator’s anxious cry, “O shield her! shield sweet Christabel!”, emphasizes the heroine’s spiritual danger and evokes the reader’s sympathy. Through suspense, symbolism, dramatic irony, and Gothic imagery, Coleridge reinforces the central theme that evil often hides behind beauty and outward innocence.
Yet Geraldine nor speaks nor stirs;
Ah! what a stricken look was hers!
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!â
And in her arms the maid she took,
Ah wel-a-day!
And with low voice and doleful look
These words did say:
‘In the touch of this bosom there worketh a spell,
Which is lord of thy utterance, Christabel!
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;
And didst bring her home with thee in love and in charity,
To shield her and shelter her from the damp air.’
Yet â āϤāĻŦā§āĻ Geraldine â āĻā§āϰāĻžāϞā§āĻĄāĻŋāύ nor speaks â āĻāĻŋāĻā§ āĻŦāϞāϞ āύāĻž nor stirs â āĻŦāĻž āύāĻĄāĻŧāϞ āύāĻžAh â āĻāĻšāĻž what a stricken look â āĻā§ āĻŦāĻŋāώāĻŖā§āύ āĻā§āĻšāĻžāϰāĻž was hers â āĻāĻŋāϞ āϤāĻžāϰDeep from within â āĻ āύā§āϤāϰā§āϰ āĻāĻā§āϰ āĻĨā§āĻā§ she seems â āϏ⧠āϝā§āύ half-way â āĻāώā§āĻ āĻāϰ⧠to lift â āϤā§āϞāϤ⧠āĻāĻžāϝāĻŧ some weight â āĻā§āύ⧠āĻāĻžāϰ with sick assay â āĻ āϏā§āϏā§āĻĨ āĻļāĻā§āϤāĻŋāϤā§And eyes â āĻāĻŦāĻ āϤāĻžāĻāĻžāϝāĻŧ the maid â āϤāϰā§āĻŖā§āϰ āĻĻāĻŋāĻā§ and seeks delay â āĻāĻŦāĻ āϏāĻŽāϝāĻŧ āύāĻŋāϤ⧠āĻāĻžāϝāĻŧThen suddenly â āϤāĻžāϰāĻĒāϰ āĻšāĻ āĻžā§ as one defied â āϝā§āύ āĻā§āĻ āϤāĻžāĻā§ āĻā§āϝāĻžāϞā§āĻā§āĻ āĻāϰā§āĻā§Collects herself â āύāĻŋāĻā§āĻā§ āϏāĻžāĻŽāϞ⧠āύā§āϝāĻŧ in scorn and pride â āĻ āĻŦāĻā§āĻāĻž āĻ āĻ āĻšāĻāĻāĻžāϰ āύāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§And lay down â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻļā§āϝāĻŧā§ āĻĒāĻĄāĻŧāϞ by the Maiden’s side â āϤāϰā§āĻŖā§āϰ āĻĒāĻžāĻļā§And in her arms â āĻāĻŦāĻ āϤāĻžāϰ āĻŦāĻžāĻšā§āϤ⧠the maid â āϤāϰā§āĻŖā§āĻā§ she took â āϏ⧠āĻāĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āύāĻŋāϞAh wel-a-day â āĻšāĻžāϝāĻŧ āĻšāĻžāϝāĻŧAnd with â āĻāĻŦāĻ low voice â āύāĻŋāĻŽā§āύāϏā§āĻŦāϰ⧠and doleful look â āĻŦā§āĻĻāύāĻžāĻāϰāĻž āĻĻā§āώā§āĻāĻŋāϤā§These words â āĻāĻ āĻāĻĨāĻžāĻā§āϞ⧠did say â āĻŦāϞāϞIn the touch â āϏā§āĻĒāϰā§āĻļā§ of this bosom â āĻāĻ āĻŦāĻā§āώā§āϰthere worketh â āĻāĻžāĻ āĻāϰ⧠a spell â āĻāĻāĻāĻŋ āĻāĻžāĻĻā§Which is lord â āϝāĻž āĻ āϧāĻŋāĻĒāϤāĻŋ of thy utterance â āϤā§āĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻŦāĻžāĻāĻļāĻā§āϤāĻŋāϰ Christabel â āĻā§āϰāĻŋāϏā§āĻāĻžāĻŦā§āϞThou knowest â āϤā§āĻŽāĻŋ āĻāĻžāύ⧠to-night â āĻāĻ āϰāĻžāϤā§And wilt know â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻāĻžāύāϤ⧠āĻĒāĻžāϰāĻŦā§ to-morrow â āĻāĻāĻžāĻŽā§āĻāĻžāϞThis mark â āĻāĻ āĻāĻŋāĻšā§āύ of my shame â āĻāĻŽāĻžāϰ āϞāĻā§āĻāĻžāϰThis seal â āĻāĻ āĻāĻžāĻĒ of my sorrow â āĻāĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻĻā§āĻāĻā§āϰBut vainly â āĻāĻŋāύā§āϤ⧠āĻŦā§āĻĨāĻžāĻ thou warrest â āϤā§āĻŽāĻŋ āĻĒā§āϰāϤāĻŋāϰā§āϧ āĻāϰāĻŦā§For â āĻāĻžāϰāĻŖ this is alone â āĻāĻāĻŽāĻžāϤā§āϰ āĻāĻā§āĻā§āĻ in thy power â āϤā§āĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻā§āώāĻŽāϤāĻžāϝāĻŧ āĻāĻā§ to declare â āĻŦāϞāĻžāϰThat â āϝā§In the dim forest â āĻ āύā§āϧāĻāĻžāϰ āĻŦāύā§Thou heard’st â āϤā§āĻŽāĻŋ āĻļā§āύā§āĻāĻŋāϞ⧠a low moaning â āĻāĻāĻāĻŋ āĻŽā§āĻĻā§ āĻā§āĻāĻžāύāĻŋAnd found’st â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻā§āĻāĻā§ āĻĒā§āϝāĻŧā§āĻāĻŋāϞ⧠a bright lady â āĻāĻ āĻāĻā§āĻā§āĻŦāϞ āĻāĻĻā§āϰāĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻžāĻā§ surpassingly fair â āĻ āϏāĻžāϧāĻžāϰāĻŖ āϏā§āύā§āĻĻāϰAnd didst bring â āĻāĻŦāĻ āύāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻāϏā§āĻāĻŋāϞ⧠her home â āϤāĻžāĻā§ āĻŦāĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϤ⧠with thee â āϤā§āĻŽāĻžāϰ āϏāĻā§āĻā§In love and in charity â āĻāĻžāϞā§āĻŦāĻžāϏāĻž āĻ āĻĻāϝāĻŧāĻžāĻŦāĻļāϤTo shield her â āϤāĻžāĻā§ āϰāĻā§āώāĻž āĻāϰāϤ⧠and shelter her â āĻāĻŦāĻ āĻāĻļā§āϰāϝāĻŧ āĻĻāĻŋāϤā§From the damp air â āϏā§āϝāĻžāĻāϤāϏā§āĻāϤ⧠āĻŦāĻžāϤāĻžāϏ āĻĨā§āĻā§
This passage reveals Geraldine’s complete supernatural power over Christabel. After a moment of hesitation, Geraldine confidently casts a mysterious spell that deprives Christabel of the ability to reveal her true nature. The spell symbolizes Geraldine’s psychological and spiritual domination over the innocent maiden. Although Christabel witnesses the mysterious mark on Geraldine’s body, she is magically prevented from speaking about it. Coleridge creates intense Gothic suspense through mystery, dramatic irony, and supernatural suggestion rather than direct description. The contrast between Christabel’s innocence and Geraldine’s evil influence reaches its peak in this passage. Thus, Coleridge emphasizes one of the central themes of the poemâthat evil can overpower innocence through deception, silence, and supernatural force.