She faid her brimful eyes, that ready stood, And only wanted will to keep a flood, Releas'd their watery ftore, and pour'd amain, Like clouds low hung, a fober fhower of rain: Mute folemn forrow, free from female noise, Such as the majefty of grief deftroys; 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 apply'd To the cold heart); fhe kifs'd at once, and cry'd. Her maids, who stood amaz'd, nor knew the

caufe

Of her complaining, nor whofe heart it was;
Yet all duc measures of her mourning kept,
Did office at the dirge, and by infection wept;
And oft inquir'd th' occasion of her grief
(Unanswer'd but by fighs), and offer'd vain relief.
At length, her stock of tears already fhed,
She wip'd her eyes, fhe rais'd her drooping head,
And thus purfu'd: O ever faithful heart,
I have perform'd the ceremonial part,
The decencies of grief; it refts behind,
That, as our bodies were, our fouls be join'd;
To thy whate'er abode, my fhade convey,
And, as an elder ghoft, direct the way.
She faid; and bade the vial to be brought,
Where the before had brew'd the deadly draught:
Firft pouring out the med'cinable bane,
The heart, her tears had rins'd, fhe bath'd again;
Then down her throat the death fecurely throws,
And quaffs a long oblivion of her woes.

This done, fhe mounts the genial bed, and there
(Her body first compos'd with honeft care)
Attends the welcome reft; her hands yet hold
Clofe to her heart the monumental gold;
Nor farther word fhe spoke, but clos'd her fight,
And quiet fought the covert of the night.

The damfels, who the while in filence mourn'd,
Not knowing, nor suspecting death suborn'd,
Yet, as their duty was, to Tancred fent;
Who, confcious of th' occafion, fear'd th' event.
Alarm'd, and with prefaging heart, he came,
And drew the curtains, and expos'd the dame
To loathfome light: then with a late relief
Made vain efforts, to mitigate her grief.
She, what she could, excluding day, her eyes
Kept firmly feal'd, and sternly thus replies:
Tancred, reftrain thy tears, unfought by me,
And forrow unavailing now to thee:
Did ever man before afflict his mind,
To fee th' effect of what himself defign'd?
Yet, if thou haft remaining in thy heart
Some fenfe of love, fome unextinguish'd part
Of former kindness, largely once profefs'd,
Let me by that adjure thy harden'd breast,
Not to deny thy daughter's laft request:
The fecret love which I fo long enjoy'd,
And ftill conceal'd to gratify thy pride,
Thou haft disjoin'd; but, with my dying breath,
Seek not, I beg thee, to disjan our death;
Where'er his corpfe by thy command is laid,
Thither let mine in publy be convey'd;
Expos'd in open view, and fide by fide,
Acknowledg'd as a bridegroom and a bride.

The prince's anguia hinder'd his reply:
And fhe, who felt her fate approaching nigh,
Seiz'd the cold heart, and, heaving to her breast,
Here, precious edge, she said, fecurely rest!
These accents were her laft; the creeping death
Benumb'd hr fenfes first, then stopp'd her breath.

Thus fh for difobedience juftly dy'd:
The fire was justly punish'd for his pride:
The youth, leaft guilty, fuffer'd for th' offence,
Of duy violated to his prince;

WE late repenting of his cruel deed,
O common fepulchre for both decreed;
Ixomb'd the wretched pair in royal state,
And on their monument inferib'd their fate.

Or all the cities in Romanian lands,
The chief, and most renown'd, Ravenna stands,
Adorn'd in ancient times with arms and arts,
And rich inhabitants, with generous hearts.
But Theodore the brave, above the rest,
With gifts of fortune and of nature bless'd,
The foremost place for wealth and honour held,
And all in feats of chivalry excell'd.

This noble youth to madness lov'd a dame
Of high degree, Honoria was her name;
Fair as the fairest, but of haughty mind,
And fiercer than became fo foft a kind.
Proud of her birth (for equal fhe had none);
The reft the fcorn'd; but hated him alone,
His gifts, his conftant courtship, nothing gain'd;
For the, the more he lov'd, the more difdain'd.
He liv'd with all the pomp he could devife,
At tilts and tournaments obtain'd the prize;
But found no favour in his lady's eyes:
Relentless as a rock, the lofty maid,
Turn'd all to poifon, that he did or faid:
Nor prayers, nor tears, nor offer'd vows, could
move;
[Atrove

The work went backward; and the more he
Tadvance his fuit, the farther from her love.
Weary'd at length, and wanting remedy,
He doubted oft, and oft refolv'd to die.
But pride food ready to prevent the blow,
For who would die to gratify a foe?

His generous mind disdain'd fo mean a fate ;
That pafs'd, his next endeavour was to hate.
Bat vainer that relief than all the reft,

The lefs he hop'd, with more defire poffefs'd;
Love ftood the fiege, and would not yield his
breaft,

Change was the next, but change deceiv'd his

care;

He fought a fairer, but found none so fair.

VOL. VI.

He would have worn her out by flow degrees,
As men by fafting starve th' untam'd disease:
But prefent love requir'd a prefent ease.
Looking he feeds alone his famish'd eyes,
Feeds lingering death, but looking not he dies.
Yet ftill he chofe the longest way to fate,
Wafting at once his life and his estate.

His friends beheld, and pity'd him in vain,
For what advice can eafe a lover's pain!
Absence, the best expedient they could find,
Might fave the fortune, if not cure the mind:
This means they long propos'd, but little gain'd,
Yet, after much purfuit, at length obtain’d.

Hard you may think it was to give confent, But ftruggling with his own defires he went, With large expence, and with a pompous train,

Provided as to vifit France and Spain,

Or for fome diftant voyage o'er the main.
But love had clipp'd his wings, and cut him
short,

Confin'd within the purlieus of the court,
Three miles he went, no farther could retreats
His travels ended at his country-feat

To Chaffis' pleafing plains he took his way,
There pitch'd his tents, and there resolv'd to stay.
The fpring was in the prime; the neighbour-

ing grove

Supply'd with birds, the choirifters of love:
Mufic unbought, that minister'd delight
To morning walks, and lull'd his cares by night:
There he discharg'd his friends; but not th' ex-

He would have liv'd more free; but many a¦ gueft,

Who could forfake the friend, purfued the feast.
It hapt one morning, as his fancy led,
Before his ufual hour he left his bed;
To walk within a lonely lawn, that stood
On every fide furrounded by a wood:
Alone he walk'd, to pleafe his penfive mind,
And fought the deepeft folitude to find;
'I'was in a grove of spreading pines he stray'd;"
The winds within the quivering branches
play'd,

And dancing trees a mournful mufic made.
The place itself was fuiting to his care,
Uncouth and favage, as the cruel fair.

He wander'd on, unknowing where he went,
Loft in the wood, and all on love intent :
The day already half his race had run,
And fummon'd him to due repaft at noon,
But love could feel no hunger but his own.
Whilft liftening to the murmuring leaves he
ftood,

More than a mile immers'd within the wood,
At once the wind was laid; the whispering
found

Was dunib; a rifing earthquake rock'd the

ground;

With more diftinguifh'd notes invades his ear;
He rais'd his head, and faw a beauteous maid,
With hair difhevel'd, iffuing through the fhade;
Stripp'd of her clothes, and ev'n thofe parts
reveald,

Which model nature keeps from fight conceal'd.
Her face, her hands, her naked limbs were torn,
With palling through the brakes, and prickly
thorn;

Two maftilis gaunt and grim her flight purfu'd,
And oft their faften'd fangs in blood imbru'd:
Oft they came up, and pinch'd her tender fide,
Mercy, O mercy, heaven! she ran, and cry'd;
When heaven was nam'd, they loos'd their hold
again,

Then fprang fhe forth, they follow'd her amain.
Not far behind, a knight of fwarthy face,
High on a coal-black fteed purfu'd the chace;
With flashing flames his ardent eyes were fill'd,
And in his hand a naked fword he held:

He cheer'd the dogs to follow her who fled,
And vow'd revenge on her devoted head.

As Theodore was born of noble kind,
The brutal action rous'd his manly mind;
Mov'd with unworthy ufage of the maid,
He, though unarm'd, refolv'd to give her aid.
A fapline pine he wrench'd from out the ground,
The readieft weapon that his fury found.
Thus furnish'd for offence, he crofs'd the way
Betwixt the graceless villain and his prey.

The knight came thundering on, but, from afar,

Thus in imperious tone farbad the war:
Ceafe, Theodore, to proffer vain relief,
Nor ftop the vengeance of fo juft a grief;
But give me leave to feize my deftin'd prey,
And let eternal justice take the way:

I but revenge my fate, difdain'd, betray'd,
And fuffering death for this ungrateful maid.

He faid, at once difmounting from the steed; For now the hell-hounds with superior speed Had reach'd the dame, and, fastening on her fide,

The ground with iffuing ftreams of purple dy'd,
Stood Theodore furpris'd in deadly fright,
With chattering teeth, and briftling hair upright;
Yet arm'd with inborn worth, Whate'er, faid

he,

Thou art, who know'st me better than I thee; Or prove thy rightful cause, or be defy'd; The spectre, fiercely ftaring, thus reply'd;

Know, Theodore, thy ancestry I claim, And Guido Cavalcanti was my name. One common fire our fathers did beget, My name and story some remember yet: Thee, then a boy, within my arms I laid, When for my fins I lov'd this haughty maid; Not lefs ador'd in life, nor ferv'd by me, Than proud Honoria now is lov'd by thee. What did I not her stubborn heart to gain? But all my vows were answer'd with disdain: She fcorn'd my forrows, and defpis'd my

pain.

Long time I dragg'd my days in fruitless care; Then, loathing life, and plung'd in deep defpair,

To finish my unhappy life, I fell

On this fharp fword, and now am damn'd in hell,

Short was her joy; for foon th' infulting maid
By heaven's decree in this cold grave was laid.
And as in unrepented fin fhe dy'd,
Doom'd to the fame bad place is punish'd for
her pride:

Because fhe deem'd I well deferv'd to die,
And made a merit of her cruelty.

There, then, we met; both try'd, and both were caft,

And this irrevocable fentence pafs'd;
That fhe, whom I fo long purfu'd in vain,
Should fuffer from my hands a lingering pain:
Renew'd to life that the might daily die,

I daily doom'd to follow, fhe to fly;"
No more a lover, but a mortal foe,
I feck her life (for love is none below):

As often as my dogs with better speed
Arrest her flight, is fhe to death decreed:
Then with this fatal fword, on which I dy'd,
I pierce her open back or tender fide,

And tear that harden'd heart from out her breaft,

Which, with her entrails, makes my hungry hounds a feaft.

Nor lies the long, but, as her fates ordain,
Springs up to life, and fresh to second pain,
Is fav'd to-day, to-morrow to be flain."

This vers'd in death, th' infernal knight relates,

And then for proof fulfill'd the common fates; Her heart and bowels through her back he drew,

And fed the hounds that help'd him to pursue,
Stern look'd the fiend, as frustrate of his will,
Not half fuffic'd, and greedy yet to kill.
And now the foul, expiring through the wound,
Had left the body breathlefs on the ground,
When thus the grifly spectre spoke again :
Behold the fruit of ill-rewarded pain:
As many months as I fuftain'd her hate,
So many years is the condemn'd by fate
To daily death; and every feveral place,
Confcious of her difdain and my disgrace,
Muft witness her just punishment; and be
A scene of triumph and revenge to me!
As in this grove I took my last farewell,
As on this very fpot of earth I fell,
As Friday faw me die, fo fhe my prey
Becomes ev'n here, on this revolving day.

Thus while he fpoke, the virgin from the ground

Upftarted fresh, already clos'd the wound,
And, unconcern'd for all the felt before,
Precipitates her flight along the fhore:

The hell-hounds, as ungorg'd with flesh and blood,

Purfue their prey, and seek their wonted food:
The fiend remounts his courfer, mends his pace;
And all the vision vanish'd from the place.
Long stood the noble youth oppress'd with"

awe

And ftupid at the wondrous things he faw,' Surpaffing common faith, tranfgreffing nature's law.

He would have been asleep, and wifh'd to wake,
But dreams, he knew, no long impreffion make,
Though ftrong at firft; if vifion, to what end,
But fuch as muft his future ftate portend?
His love the damfel, and himself the fiend.
But yet, reflecting that it could not be
From heaven, which cannot impious acts decree,
Refolv'd within himself to fhun the fnare,
Which hell for his deftruction did prepare;
And, as his better genius fhould direct,
From an ill caufe to draw a good effect.
Infpir'd from heaven he homeward took his

The father, mother, daughter, they invite;
Hardly the dame was drawn to this repast;
But yet refolv'd, because it was the last.
The day was come, the guests invited came,
And, with the reft, th' inexorable dame :
A feast prepar'd with riotous expence,
Much coft, more care, and moft magnificence.
The place ordain'd was in that haunted grove,
Where the revenging ghoft purfu'd his love:
The tables in a proud pavilion fpread,
With flowers below, and tiffue overhead:
The rest in rank, Honoria chief in place,
Was artfully contriv'd to fet her face

To front the thicket, and behold the chace.
The feaft was ferv'd, the time fo well forecast,
That just when the defert and fruits were
plac'd,

The fiend's alarm began; the hollow found
Sung in the leaves, the foreft fhook around,
Air blacken'd, roll'd the thunder, groan'd the

Loud was the noife, aghaft was every guest,
The women fhriek'd, the men forfook the feaft;
The hounds at nearer diftance hoarfely bay'd;
The hunter clofe purfu'd the visionary maid,
She rent the heaven with loud laments, implor-
ing aid.

The gallants, to protect the lady's right,
Their faulchions brandifh'd at the grifly fprite;
High on his ftirrups he provok'd the fight.
Then on the crowd he caft a furious look,
And wither'd all their strength before he spoke :
Back on your lives; let be, faid he, my prey,
And let my vengeance take the deltin'd way:
Vain are your arms, and vainer your defence,
Against th' eternal doom of Providence ;

Mine is th' ungrateful maid by heaven defign'd: Mercy he would not give, nor mercy fhall the find.

At this the former tale again he told

With thundering tone, and dreadful to behold: Sunk were their hearts with horror of the crime, Nor needed to be warn'd a fecond time,

But bore each other back: fome knew the face,

And all had heard the much lamented cafe Of him who fell for love, and this the fatal place.

And now th' infernal minifter advanc'd,
Seiz'd the due victim, and with fury launch'd
Her back, and, piercing through her inmoft
heart,

Drew backward as before th' offending part.
The reeking entrails next he tore away,
And to his meagre maftiffs made a prey.
The pale affiftants on each other ftar'd,

With gaping mouths for iffuing words prepar'd;

The ftill-born founds upon the palate hung,
And dy'd imperfect on the faultering tongue.
The fright was general; but the female band
(A helpless train) in more confufion ftand:
With horror fhuddering, on a heap they run,
Sick at the fight of hateful justice done;
For confcience rung th' alarm, and made the
cafe their own.

}

So, fpread upon a lake with upward eye, A plump of fowl behold their foe on high; They close their trembling troop; and all attend On whom the fowfing eagle will defcend.

}

But moft the proud Honoria fear'd th' event,
And thought to her alone the vision sent.
Her guilt prefents to her distracted mind
Heaven's juftice, Theodore's revengeful kind,
And the fame fate to the fame fin aflign'd.
Already fees herself the monster's prey,
And feels her heart and entrails torn away.
'Twas a mute fcene of forrow, mix'd with fear;
Still on the table lay th' unfinish'd cheer:
The knight and hungry maftiffs food around,
The mangled dame lay breathlefs on the ground;
When on a fadden, re-infpir'd with breath,
Again the rofe, again to fufter death;

Nor ftaid the hell-hounds, nor the hunter ftaid,
But follow'd, as before, the flying maid :
Th' avenger took from earth th' avenging sword,
And mounting light as air his fable feed he
fpurr'd:

The clouds difpell'd, the fky refum'd her light,
And nature food recover'd of her fright.
But fear, the laft of ills, remain'd behind,
And horror heavy sat on every mind.
Nor Theodore encourag'd more the feast,
But fternly look'd, as hatching in his breast
Some deep defigns; which when Honoria view'd,
The fresh impulfe her former fright renew'd;
She thought herfelf the trembling dame who
fled,

And him the grily ghost that fpurr'd th' infernal feed:

The more dismay'd, for when the guests with-1 drew,

Their courteous hoft, faluting all the crew, Regardless pafs'd her o'er; nor grac'd with kind adieu;

That fting infix'd within her haughty mind
The downfall of her empire the divinid;
And her proud heart with secret forrow pin'd.
Home as they went, the fad difcourfe renew'd
Of the relentlefs dame to death purfu'd,
And of the fight obfcene fo lately view'd.
None durft arraign the righteous doom the bore,
Ev'n they who pity'd most, yet blam'd her more;
The parallel they needed not to name,
But in the dead they daran'd the living dame.
At every little noife the look'd behind,
For ftill the knight was prefent to her mind :
And anxious oft fhe started on the way,

And thought the horseman ghost came thundering for his prey.

Return'd, he took her bed with little reft,
But in fhort flumbers dreamt the funeral feaft:
Awak'd, fhe turn'd her fide, and flept again;
The fame black vapours mounted in her brain,
And the fame dreams return'd with doubles
pain.

Now forc'd to wake, because afraid to fleep,
Her blood all fever'd, with a furious leap
She fprang from bed, distracted in her mind,
And fear'd, at every ftep, a twitching iprite be-

hind.

This dreadful image fo poffefs'd her mind,
That defperate any fuccour elle to find,
She ceas'd all farther hope; and now began
To make reflection on th' unhappy man.
Rich, brave, and young, who paft expreffion
lov'd,

Proof to disdain, and not to be remov'd:
Of all the men refpected and admir'd,
Of all the dames, except herfelf, defir'd:
Why not of her preferr'd above the reft
By him with knightly deeds, and open love
profeis'd?

So had another been, where he his vows addrefs'd.

This quell'd her pride, yet other doubts remain'd,

That, once dildaining, fhe might be disdain'd.
The fear was juft, but greater fear prevail'd,
Fear of her life by hellifh hounds affail'd:
He took a lowering leave; but who can tell,
What outward hate might inward love conceal?
Her fex's arts the knew; and why not, then,
Might deep diffembling have a place in men?