Classic Poem

FROM BOCCACE

While Norman Tancred in Salerno reign'd,
The title of a gracious prince he gain'd;
Till, turn'd a tyrant in his latter days,
He lost the luster of his former praise;
And, from the bright meridian where he stood
Descending, dipp'd his hands in lovers' blood.
This prince, of Fortune's favor long possess'd,
Yet was with one fair daughter only blest;
And blest he might have been with her alone:
But O! how much more happy had he none!
She was his care, his hope, and his delight,
Most in his thought, and ever in his sight:
Next, nay beyond his life, he held her dear;
She liv'd by him, and now he liv'd in her.
For this, when ripe for marriage, he delay'd
Her nuptial bands, and kept her long a maid,
As envying any else should share a part
Of what was his, and claiming all her heart.
At length, as public decency requir'd,
And all his vassals eagerly desir'd,
With mind averse, he rather underwent
His people's will than gave his own consent
So was she torn as from a lover's side,
And made almost in his despite a bride.
Short were her marriage joys, for in the prime
Of youth her lord expir'd before his time;
And, to her father's court in little space
Restor'd anew, she held a higher place;
More lov'd, and more exalted into grace.
This princess, fresh and young, and fair and wise,
The worship'd idol of her father's eyes,
Did all her sex in ev'ry grace exceed,
And had more wit beside than women need.
Youth, health, and ease, and most an amorous mind,
To second nuptials had her thoughts inclin'd;
And former joys had left a secret sting behind.
But, prodigal in ev'ry other grant,
Her sire left unsupplied her only want;
And she, betwixt her modesty and pride,
Her wishes, which she could not help, would hide.
Resolv'd at last to lose no longer time,
And yet to please herself without a crime,
She cast her eyes around the court, to find
A worthy subject suiting to her mind,
To him in holy nuptials to be tied,
A seeming widow, and a secret bride.
Among the train of courtiers, one she found
With all the gifts of bounteous nature crown'd,
Of gentle blood; but one whose niggard fate
Had set him far below her high estate.
Guiscard his name was call'd, of blooming age,
Now squire to Tancred, and before his page:
To him, the choice of all the shining crowd,
Her heart the noble Sigismonda vow'd.
Yet hitherto she kept her love conceal'd,
And with close glances ev'ry day beheld
The graceful youth; and ev'ry day increas'd
The raging fire that burn'd within her breast.
Some secret charm did all his acts attend,
And what his fortune wanted, hers could mend;
Till, as the fire will force its outward way,
Or, in the prison pent, consume the prey;
So long her earnest eyes on his were set,
At length their twisted rays together met;
And he, surpris'd with humble joy, survey'd
One sweet regard, shot by the royal maid:
Not well assur'd, while doubtful hopes he nurs'd,
A second glance came gliding like the first;
And he, who saw the sharpness of the dart,
Without defense receiv'd it in his heart.
In public tho' their passion wanted speech,
Yet mutual looks interpreted for each;
Time, ways, and means of meeting were denied;
But all those wants ingenious Love supplied.
Th' inventive god, who never fails his part,
Inspires the wit when once he warms the heart.
When Guiscard next was in the circle seen,
Where Sigismonda held the place of queen,
A hollow cane within her hand she brought,
But in the concave had enclos'd a note.
With this she seem'd to play, and, as in sport,
Toss'd to her love, in presence of the court:
" Take it, " she said, " and when your needs require,
This little brand will serve to light your fire. "
He took it with a bow, and soon divin'd
The seeming toy was not for naught design'd;
But when retir'd, so long with curious eyes
He view'd the present, that he found the prize.
Much was in little writ; and all convey'd
With cautious care, for fear to be betray'd
By some false confident, or fav'rite maid.
The time, the place, the manner how to meet,
Were all in punctual order plainly writ;
But since a trust must be, she thought it best
To put it out of laymen's pow'r at least;
And for their solemn vows prepar'd a priest.
Guiscard (her secret purpose understood)
With joy prepar'd to meet the coming good;
Nor pains nor danger was resolv'd to spare,
But use the means appointed by the fair.
Near the proud palace of Salerno stood
A mount of rough ascent, and thick with wood.
Thro' this a cave was dug with vast expense;
The work it seem'd of some suspicious prince,
Who, when abusing pow'r with lawless might,
From public justice would secure his flight.
The passage made by many a winding way
Reach'd ev'n the room in which the tyrant lay,
Fit for his purpose; on a lower floor
He lodg'd, whose issue was an iron door;
From whence, by stairs descending to the ground,
In the blind grot a safe retreat he found.
Its outlet ended in a brake o'ergrown
With brambles, chok'd by time, and now unknown.
A rift there was, which from the mountain's height
Convey'd a glimm'ring and malignant light,
A breathing place to draw the damps away,
A twilight of an intercepted day.
The tyrant's den, whose use tho' lost to fame,
Was now th' apartment of the royal dame;
The cavern, only to her father known,
By him was to his darling daughter shown.
Neglected long she let the secret rest,
Till love recall'd it to her lab'ring breast,
And hinted as the way by Heav'n design'd,
The teacher, by the means he taught, to blind.
What will not women do, when need inspires
Their wit, or love their inclination fires!
Tho' jealousy of state th' invention found,
Yet love refin'd upon the former ground.
That way the tyrant had reserv'd, to fly
Pursuing hate, now serv'd to bring two lovers nigh.
The dame, who long in vain had kept the key,
Bold by desire, explor'd the secret way;
Now tried the stairs, and, wading thro' the night,
Search'd all the deep recess, and issued into light.
All this her letter had so well explain'd,
Th' instructed youth might compass what remain'd;
The cavern mouth alone was hard to find,
Because the path, disus'd, was out of mind:
But in what quarter of the copse it lay,
His eye by certain level could survey.
Yet (for the wood perplex'd with thorns he knew)
A frock of leather o'er his limbs he drew;
And thus provided, search'd the brake around,
Till the chok'd entry of the cave he found.
Thus, all prepar'd, the promis'd hour arriv'd,
So long expected, and so well contriv'd:
With love to friend, th' impatient lover went,
Fenc'd from the thorns, and trod the deep descent.
The conscious priest, who was suborn'd before,
Stood ready posted at the postern door;
The maids in distant rooms were sent to rest,
And nothing wanted but th' invited guest.
He came, and knocking thrice, without delay,
The longing lady heard, and turn'd the key;
At once invaded him with all her charms,
And the first step he made was in her arms.
The leathern outside, boist'rous as it was,
Gave way, and bent beneath her strict embrace;
On either side the kisses flew so thick,
That neither he nor she had breath to speak.
The holy man, amaz'd at what he saw,
Made haste to sanctify the bliss by law,
And mutter'd fast the matrimony o'er,
For fear committed sin should get before.
His work perform'd, he left the pair alone,
Because he knew he could not go too soon;
His presence odious, when his task was done.
What thoughts he had beseems not me to say;
Tho' some surmise he went to fast and pray,
And needed both to drive the tempting thoughts away.
The foe once gone, they took their full delight;
'T was restless rage and tempest all the night;
For greedy love each moment would employ,
And grudg'd the shortest pauses of their joy.
Thus were their loves auspiciously begun,
And thus with secret care were carried on;
The stealth itself did appetite restore,
And look'd so like a sin, it pleas'd the more.
The cave was now become a common way;
The wicket, often open'd, knew the key:
Love rioted secure, and, long enjoy'd,
Was ever eager, and was never cloy'd.
But as extremes are short, of ill and good,
And tides at highest mark regorge the flood;
So Fate, that could no more improve their joy,
Took a malicious pleasure to destroy.
Tancred, who fondly lov'd, and whose delight
Was plac'd in his fair daughter's daily sight,
Of custom, when his state affairs were done,
Would pass his pleasing hours with her alone;
And, as a father's privilege allow'd,
Without attendance of th' officious crowd.
It happen'd once, that when in heat of day
He tried to sleep, as was his usual way,
The balmy slumber fled his wakeful eyes,
And forc'd him, in his own despite, to rise.
Of sleep forsaken, to relieve his care,
He sought the conversation of the fair;
But with her train of damsels she was gone.
In shady walks the scorching heat to shun.
He would not violate that sweet recess,
And found besides a welcome heaviness
That seiz'd his eyes; and slumber, which forgot,
When call'd before, to come, now came unsought.
From light retir'd, behind his daughter's bed,
He for approaching sleep compos'd his head;
A chair was ready, for that use design'd,
So quilted, that he lay at ease reclin'd;
The curtains closely drawn, the light to screen,
As if he had contriv'd to lie unseen:
Thus cover'd with an artificial night,
Sleep did his office soon, and seal'd his sight.
With Heav'n averse, in this ill-omen'd hour
Was Guiscard summon'd to the secret bow'r,
And the fair nymph, with expectation fir'd,
From her attending damsels was retir'd:
For, true to love, she measur'd time so right,
As not to miss one moment of delight.
The garden, seated on the level floor,
She left behind, and, locking ev'ry door,
Thought all secure; but little did she know,
Blind to her fate, she had inclos'd her foe.
Attending Guiscard, in his leathern frock,
Stood ready, with his thrice — repeated knock:
Thrice with a doleful sound the jarring grate
Rung deaf, and hollow, and presag'd their fate.
The door unlock'd, to known delight they haste,
And, panting, in each other's arms embrac'd,
Rush to the conscious bed, a mutual freight,
And heedless press it with their wonted weight.
The sudden bound awak'd the sleeping sire,
And shew'd a sight no parent can desire;
His opening eyes at once with odious view.
The love discover'd, and the lover knew.
He would have cried; but, hoping that he dreamt,
Amazement tied his tongue, and stopp'd th' attempt.
Th' ensuing moment all the truth declar'd,
But now he stood collected and prepar'd;
For malice and revenge had put him on his guard.
So, like a lion that unheeded lay,
Dissembling sleep, and watchful to betray,
With inward rage he meditates his prey.
The thoughtless pair, indulging their desires,
Alternate kindled, and then quench'd their fires;
Nor thinking in the shades of death they play'd,
Full of themselves, themselves alone survey'd,
And, too secure, were by themselves betray'd.
Long time dissolv'd in pleasure thus they lay,
Till nature could no more suffice their play;
Then rose the youth, and thro' the cave again
Return'd; the princess mingled with her train.
Resolv'd his unripe vengeance to defer,
The royal spy, when now the coast was clear,
Sought not the garden, but retir'd unseen,
To brood in secret on his gather'd spleen,
And methodize revenge: to death he griev'd;
And, but he saw the crime, had scarce believ'd.
Th' appointment for th' ensuing night he heard,
And therefore in the cavern had prepar'd
Two brawny yeoman of his trusty guard.
Scarce had unwary Guiscard set his foot
Within the farmost entrance of the grot,
When these in secret ambush ready lay,
And rushing on the sudden seiz'd the prey.
Encumber'd with his frock, without defense,
An easy prize, they led the pris'ner thence,
And, as commanded, brought before the prince.
The gloomy sire, too sensible of wrong
To vent his rage in words, restrain'd his tongue,
And only said: " Thus servants are preferr'd,
And, trusted, thus their sov'reigns they reward.
Had I not seen, had not these eyes receiv'd
Too clear a proof, I could not have believ'd. "
He paus'd and chok'd the rest. The youth, who saw
His forfeit life abandon'd to the law,
The judge th' accuser, and th' offense to him
Who had both pow'r and will t' avenge the crime,
No vain defense prepar'd, but thus replied:
" The faults of Love by Love are justified:
With unresisted might the monarch reigns,
He levels mountains, and he raises plains;
And, not regarding diff'rence of degree,
Abas'd your daughter, and exalted me. "
This bold return with seeming patience heard,
The pris'ner was remitted to the guard.
The sullen tyrant slept not all the night,
But, lonely walking by a winking light,
Sobb'd, wept, and groan'd, and beat his wither'd breast,
But would not violate his daughter's rest;
Who long expecting lay, for bliss prepar'd,
List'ning for noise, and griev'd that none she heard;
Oft rose, and oft in vain employ'd the key,
And oft accus'd her lover of delay;
And pass'd the tedious hours in anxious thoughts away.
The morrow came, and at his usual hour
Old Tancred visited his daughter's bow'r;
Her cheek (for such his custom was) he kiss'd,
Then bless'd her kneeling, and her maids dismiss'd.
The royal dignity thus far maintain'd,
Now left in private, he no longer feign'd;
But all at once his grief and rage appear'd,
And floods of tears ran trickling down his beard.
" O Sigismonda, " he began to say:
Thrice he began, and thrice was forc'd to stay,
Till words with often trying found their way:
" I thought, O Sigismonda, (but how blind
Are parents' eyes, their children's faults to find!)
Thy virtue, birth, and breeding were above
A mean desire, and vulgar sense of love;
Nor less than sight and hearing could convince
So fond a father, and so just a prince,
Of such an unforeseen and unbeliev'd offense.
Then what indignant sorrow must I have,
To see thee lie subjected to my slave!
A man so smelling of the people's lee,
The court receiv'd him first for charity;
And since with no degree of honor grac'd,
But only suffer'd where he first was plac'd:
A grov'ling insect still, and so design'd
By Nature's hand, nor born of noble kind;
A thing, by neither man nor woman priz'd,
And scarcely known enough to be despis'd.
To what has Heav'n reserv'd my age? Ah! why
Should man, when Nature calls, not choose to die,
Rather than stretch the span of life, to find
Such ills as Fate has wisely cast behind,
For those to feel, whom fond desire to live
Makes covetous of more than life can give!
Each has his share of good; and when 't is gone,
The guest, tho' hungry, cannot rise too soon.
But I, expecting more, in my own wrong
Protracting life, have liv'd a day too long.
If yesterday could be recall'd again,
Ev'n now would I conclude my happy reign;
But 't is too late, my glorious race is run, I
And a dark cloud o'ertakes my setting sun.
Hadst thou not lov'd, or loving sav'd the shame,
If not the sin, by some illustrious name,
This little comfort had reliev'd my mind,
'T was frailty, not unusual to thy kind;
But thy low fall beneath thy royal blood
Shews downward appetite to mix with mud.
Thus not the least excuse is left for thee,
Nor the least refuge for unhappy me.
" For him I have resolv'd: whom by surprise
I took, and scarce can call it in disguise;
For such was his attire, as, with intent
Of nature, suited to his mean descent.
The harder question yet remains behind,
What pains a parent and a prince can find
To punish an offense of this degenerate kind.
" As I have lov'd, and yet I love thee, more
Than ever father lov'd a child before;
So that indulgence draws me to forgive:
Nature, that gave thee life, would have thee live.
But, as a public parent of the state,
My justice, and thy crime, requires thy fate.
Fain would I choose a middle course to steer;
Nature's too kind, and justice too severe:
Speak for us both, and to the balance bring,
On either side, the father and the king.
Heav'n knows, my heart is bent to favor thee;
Make it but scanty weight, and leave the rest to me. "
Here stopping with a sigh, he pour'd a flood
Of tears, to make his last expression good.
She, who had heard him speak, nor saw alone
The secret conduct of her love was known,
But he was taken who her soul possess'd,
Felt all the pangs of sorrow in her breast:
And little wanted, but a woman's heart,
With cries and tears, had testified her smart;
But inborn worth, that fortune can control,
New strung, and stiffer bent her softer soul;
The heroine assum'd the woman's place,
Confirm'd her mind, and fortified her face.
Why should she beg, or what could she pretend,
When her stern father had condemn'd her friend?
Her life she might have had; but her despair
Of saving his had put it past her care:
Resolv'd on fate, she would not lose her breath,
But, rather than not die, solicit death.
Fix'd on this thought, she not, as women use,
Her fault by common frailty would excuse;
But boldly justified her innocence,
And, while the fact was own'd, denied th' offense:
Then with dry eyes, and with an open look,
She met his glance midway, and then undaunted spoke:
" Tancred, I neither am dispos'd to make
Request for life, nor offer'd life to take;
Much less deny the deed; but least of all
Beneath pretended justice weakly fall.
My words to sacred truth shall be confin'd,
My deeds shall shew the greatness of my mind.
That I have lov'd, I own; that still I love,
I call to witness all the pow'rs above.
Yet more I own: to Guiscard's love I give
The small remaining time I have to live;
And if beyond this life desire can be,
Not fate itself shall set my passion free.
" This first avow'd; nor folly warp'd my mind,
Nor the frail texture of the female kind
Betray'd my virtue; for too well I knew
That honor was, and honor had his due:
Before the holy priest my vows were tied;
So came I not a strumpet, but a bride.
This for my fame, and for the public voice:
Yet more, his merits justified my choice;
Which had they not, the first election thine,
That bond dissolv'd, the next is freely mine.
Or, grant I err'd, (which yet I must deny,)
Had parents pow'r ev'n second vows to tie,
Thy little care to mend my widow'd nights
Has forced me to recourse of marriage rites,
To fill an empty side, and follow known delights.
What have I done in this, deserving blame?
State laws may alter; nature's are the same:
Those are usurp'd on helpless womankind,
Made without our consent, and wanting pow'r to bind.
" Thou, Tancred, better shouldst have understood,
That as thy father gave thee flesh and blood,
So gav'st thou me: not from the quarry hew'd,
But of a softer mold, with sense endued;
Ev'n softer than thy own, of suppler kind,
More exquisite of taste, and more than man refin'd.
Nor need'st thou by thy daughter to be told,
Tho' now thy sprightly blood with age be cold,
Thou hast been young; and canst remember still,
That when thou hadst the pow'r, thou hadst the will;
And from the past experience of thy fires
Canst tell with what a tide our strong desires
Come rushing on in youth, and what their rage requires.
" And grant thy youth was exercis'd in arms,
When love no leisure found for softer charms;
My tender age in luxury was train'd,
With idle ease and pageants entertain'd;
My hours my own, my pleasures unrestrain'd.
So bred, no wonder if I took the bent
That seem'd ev'n warranted by thy consent;
For, when the father is too fondly kind,
Such seed he sows, such harvest shall he find.
Blame then thyself, as reason's law requires,
(Since nature gave, and thou foment'st my fires.)
If still those appetites continue strong,
Thou may'st consider I am yet but young:
Consider too that, having been a wife,
I must have tasted of a better life,
And am not to be blam'd, if I renew,
By lawful means, the joys which then I knew.
Where was the crime, if pleasure I procur'd,
Young, and a woman, and to bliss inur'd?
That was my case, and this is my defense:
I pleas'd myself, I shunn'd incontinence,
And, urg'd by strong desires, indulg'd my sense.
" Left to myself, I must avow, I strove
From public shame to screen my secret love,
And, well acquainted with thy native pride,
Endeavor'd, what I could not help, to hide;
For which a woman's wit an easy way supplied.
How this, so well contriv'd, so closely laid,
Was known to thee, or by what chance betray'd,
Is not my care; to please thy pride alone,
I could have wish'd it had been still unknown.
" Nor took I Guiscard by blind fancy led,
Or hasty choice, as many women wed;
But with delib'rate care, and ripen'd thought,
At leisure first design'd, before I wrought:
On him I rested, after long debate,
And not without consid'ring, fix'd my fate.
His flame was equal, tho' by mine inspir'd;
(For so the diff'rence of our birth requir'd;)
Had he been born like me, like me his love
Had first begun what mine was forc'd to move:
But thus beginning, thus we persevere;
Our passions yet continue what they were,
Nor length of trial makes our joys the less sincere.
" At this my choice, tho' not by thine allow'd,
(Thy judgment herding with the common crowd,)
Thou tak'st unjust offense; and, led by them,
Dost less the merit than the man esteem.
Too sharply, Tancred, by thy pride betray'd,
Hast thou against the laws of kind inveigh'd;
For all th' offense is in opinion plac'd,
Which deems high birth by lowly choice debas'd.
This thought alone with fury fires thy breast,
(For holy marriage justifies the rest,)
That I have sunk the glories of the state,
And mix'd my blood with a plebeian mate;
In which I wonder thou shouldst oversee
Superior causes, or impute to me
The fault of Fortune, or the Fates' decree.
Or call it Heav'n's imperial pow'r alone,
Which moves on springs of justice, tho' unknown;
Yet this we see, tho' order'd for the best,
The bad exalted, and the good oppress'd;
Permitted laurels grace the lawless brow,
Th' unworthy rais'd, the worthy cast below.
" But, leaving that, search we the secret springs,
And backward trace the principles of things:
There shall we find, that when the world began,
One common mass compos'd the mold of man;
One paste of flesh on all degrees bestow'd,
And kneaded up alike with moist'ning blood.
The same Almighty Pow'r inspir'd the frame
With kindled life, and form'd the souls the same:
The faculties of intellect and will
Dispens'd with equal hand, dispos'd with equal skill;
Like liberty indulg'd, with choice of good or ill.
Thus born alike, from virtue first began
The diff'rence that distinguish'd man from man:
He claim'd no title from descent of blood,
But that which made him noble made him good;
Warm'd with more particles of heav'nly flame,
He wing'd his upward flight, and soar'd to fame,
The rest remain'd below, a tribe without a name.
" This law, tho' custom now diverts the course,
As nature's institute, is yet in force;
Uncancel'd, tho' disus'd: and he, whose mind
Is virtuous, is alone of noble kind;
Tho' poor in fortune, of celestial race;
And he commits the crime, who calls him base.
" Now lay the line, and measure all thy court
By inward virtue, not external port;
And find whom justly to prefer above
The man on whom my judgment plac'd my love:
So shalt thou see his parts and person shine;
And thus compar'd, the rest a base degen'rate line.
Nor took I, when I first survey'd thy court,
His valor, or his virtues, on report;
But trusted what I ought to trust alone,
Relying on thy eyes, and not my own.
Thy praise (and thine was then the public voice)
First recommended Guiscard to my choice:
Directed thus by thee, I look'd, and found
A man, I thought, deserving to be crown'd;
First by my father pointed to my sight,
Nor less conspicuous by his native light;
His mind, his mien, the features of his face
Excelling all the rest of human race.
These were thy thoughts, and thou couldst judge aright,
Till int'rest made a jaundice in thy sight.
" Or should I grant thou didst not rightly see;
Then thou wert first deceiv'd, and I deceiv'd by thee.
But if thou shalt allege, thro' pride of mind,
Thy blood with one of base condition join'd,
'T is false; for 't is not baseness to be poor;
His poverty augments thy crime the more;
Upbraids thy justice with the scant regard
Of worth: whom princes praise, they should reward.
Are these the kings intrusted by the crowd
With wealth, to be dispens'd for common good?
The people sweat not for their king's delight,
T' enrich a pimp, or raise a parasite:
Theirs is the toil; and he who well has serv'd
His country, has his country's wealth deserv'd.
" Ev'n mighty monarchs oft are meanly born,
And kings by birth to lowest rank return;
All subject to the pow'r of giddy chance,
For fortune can depress, or can advance:
But true nobility is of the mind,
Not giv'n by chance, and not to chance resign'd.
" For the remaining doubt of thy decree,
What to resolve, and how dispose of me,
Be warn'd to cast that useless care aside;
Myself alone will for myself provide.
If in thy doting and decrepit age,
Thy soul, a stranger in thy youth to rage,
Begins in cruel deeds to take delight,
Gorge with my blood thy barb'rous appetite,
For I so little am dispos'd to pray
For life, I would not cast a wish away.
Such as it is, th' offense is all my own;
And what to Guiscard is already done,
Or to be done, is doom'd by thy decree;
That, if not executed first by thee,
Shall on my person be perform'd by me.
" Away! with women weep, and leave me here,
Fix'd like a man, to die without a tear;
Or save, or slay us both this present hour —
'T is all that fate has left within thy pow'r. "
She said; nor did her father fail to find,
In all she spoke, the greatness of her mind;
Yet thought she was not obstinate to die,
Nor deem'd the death she promis'd was so nigh.
Secure in this belief, he left the dame,
Resolv'd to spare her life and save her shame;
But that detested object to remove,
To wreak his vengeance, and to cure her love.
Intent on this, a secret order sign'd
The death of Guiscard to his guards enjoin'd;
Strangling was chosen, and the night the time,
A mute revenge, and blind as was the crime.
His faithful heart, a bloody sacrifice,
Torn from his breast, to glut the tyrant's eyes,
Clos'd the severe command: for (slaves to pay)
What kings decree, the soldier must obey:
Wag'd against foes; and, when the wars are o'er,
Fit only to maintain despotic pow'r;
Dang'rous to freedom, and desir'd alone
By kings who seek an arbitrary throne.
Such were these guards; as ready to have slain
The prince himself, allur'd with greater gain:
So was the charge perform'd with better will,
By men inur'd to blood and exercis'd in ill.
Now, tho' the sullen sire had eas'd his mind,
The pomp of his revenge was yet behind,
A pomp prepar'd to grace the present he design'd.
A goblet rich with gems and rough with gold,
Of depth and breadth the precious pledge to hold,
With cruel care he chose: the hollow part
Inclos'd, the lid conceal'd the lover's heart.
Then of his trusted mischiefs one he sent,
And bade him with these words the gift present:
" Thy father sends thee this to cheer thy breast,
And glad thy sight with what thou lov'st the best;
As thou hast pleas'd his eyes and joy'd his mind
With what he lov'd the most of humankind. "
Ere this the royal dame, who well had weigh'd
The consequence of what her sire had said,
Fix'd on her fate, against th' expected hour,
Procur'd the means to have it in her pow'r.
For this she had distill'd, with early care,
The juice of simples friendly to despair,
A magazine of death, and thus prepar'd,
Secure to die, the fatal message heard:
Then smil'd severe, nor with a troubled look
Or trembling hand the fun'ral present took;
Ev'n kept her count'nance, when the lid remov'd
Disclos'd the heart, unfortunately lov'd.
She needed not be told within whose breast
It lodg'd; the message had explain'd the rest.
Or not amaz'd, or hiding her surprise,
She sternly on the bearer fix'd her eyes;
Then thus: " Tell Tancred, on his daughter's part,
The gold, tho' precious, equals not the heart:
But he did well to give his best; and I,
Who wish'd a worthier urn, forgive his poverty. "
At this she curb'd a groan, that else had come,
And pausing, view'd the present in the tomb;
Then, to the heart ador'd devoutly glued
Her lips, and raising, it, her speech renew'd:
" Ev'n from my day of birth, to this, the bound
Of my unhappy being, I have found
My father's care and tenderness express'd;
But this last act of love excels the rest:
For this so dear a present, bear him back
The best return that I can live to make. "
The messenger dispatch'd, again she view'd
The lov'd remains, and sighing thus pursued:
" Source of my life, and lord of my desires,
In whom I liv'd, with whom my soul expires!
Poor heart, no more the spring of vital heat,
Curst be the hands that tore thee from thy seat!
The course is finish'd which thy fate decreed,
And thou from thy corporeal prison freed:
Soon hast thou reach'd the goal with mended pace,
A world of woes dispatch'd in little space.
Forc'd by thy worth, thy foe, in death become
Thy friend, has lodg'd thee in a costly tomb.
There yet remain'd thy fun'ral exequies,
The weeping tribute of thy widow's eyes,
And those, indulgent Heav'n has found the way
That I, before my death, have leave to pay.
My father ev'n in cruelty is kind,
Or Heav'n has turn'd the malice of his mind
To better uses than his hate design'd;
And made th' insult, which in his gift appears,
The means to mourn thee with my pious tears;
Which I will pay thee down, before I go,
And save myself the pains to weep below,
If souls can weep. Tho' once I meant to meet
My fate with face unmov'd, and eyes unwet,
Yet since I have thee here in narrow room,
My tears shall set thee first afloat within thy tomb:
Then (as I know thy spirit hovers nigh)
Under thy friendly conduct will I fly
To regions unexplor'd, secure to share
Thy state; nor hell shall punishment appear;
And heav'n is double heav'n, if thou art there. "
She said: her brimful eyes, that ready stood,
And only wanted will to weep a flood,
Releas'd their wat'ry store, and pour'd amain,
Like clouds low hung, a sober show'r of rain;
Mute solemn sorrow, free from female noise,
Such as the majesty of grief destroys;
For, bending o'er the cup, the tears she shed
Seem'd by the posture to discharge her head,
O'erfill'd before; and oft (her mouth applied
To the cold heart) she kiss'd at once and cried.
Her maids, who stood amaz'd, nor knew the cause
Of her complaining, nor whose heart it was;
Yet all due measures of her mourning kept,
Did office at the dirge, and by infection wept;
And oft enquir'd th' occasion of her grief,
(Unanswer'd but by sighs,) and offer'd vain relief.
At length, her stock of tears already shed,
She wip'd her eyes, she rais'd her drooping head,
And thus pursued: " O ever faithful heart,
I have perform'd the ceremonial part,
The decencies of grief; it rests behind,
That, as our bodies were, our souls be join'd;
To thy whate'er abode my shade convey,
And as an elder ghost, direct the way. "
She said; and bade the vial to be brought,
Where she before had brew'd the deadly draught.
First pouring out the med'cinable bane,
The heart her tears had rins'd she bath'd again;
Then down her throat the death securely throws,
And quaffs a long oblivion of her woes.
This done, she mounts the genial bed, and there
(Her body first compos'd with honest care)
Attends the welcome rest; her hands yet hold
Close to her heart the monumental gold;
Nor farther word she spoke, but clos'd her sight,
And quiet sought the covert of the night.
The damsels, who the while in silence mourn'd,
Not knowing, nor suspecting death suborn'd,
Yet, as their duty was, to Tancred sent;
Who, conscious of th' occasion, fear'd th' event.
Alarm'd, and with presaging heart, he came,
And drew the curtains, and expos'd the dame
To loathsome light; then with a late relief
Made vain efforts to mitigate her grief.
She, what she could, excluding day, her eyes
Kept firmly seal'd, and sternly thus replies:
" Tancred, restrain thy tears, unsought by me,
And sorrow, unavailing now to thee:
Did ever man before afflict his mind
To see th' effect of what himself design'd?
Yet, if thou hast remaining in thy heart
Some sense of love, some unextinguish'd part
Of former kindness, largely once profess'd,
Let me by that adjure thy harden'd breast
Not to deny thy daughter's last request.
The secret love which I so long enjoy'd,
And still conceal'd, to gratify thy pride,
Thou hast disjoin'd; but, with my dying breath,
Seek not, I beg thee, to disjoin our death:
Where'er his corpse by thy command is laid,
Thither let mine in public be convey'd;
Expos'd in open view, and side by side,
Acknowledg'd as a bridegroom and a bride. "
The prince's anguish hinder'd his reply;
And she, who felt her fate approaching nigh,
Seiz'd the cold heart, and heaving to her breast:
" Here, precious pledge, " she said, " securely rest. "
These accents were her last; the creeping death
Benumb'd her senses first, then stopp'd her breath.
Thus she for disobedience justly died;
The sire was justly punish'd for his pride:
The youth, least guilty, suffer'd for th' offense,
Of duty violated to his prince;
Who, late repenting of his cruel deed,
One common sepulcher for both decreed;
Intomb'd the wretched pair in royal state,
And on their monument inscrib'd their fate.