Thou hast been young: and canst remember still, | Yet this we see, though order'd for the best,
That when thou hadst the power, 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 év'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 defence:
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,
Endeavour'd what I could not help, to hide;
For which a woman's wit an easy way supply'd.
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 deliberate care, and ripen'd thought,
At leisure first design'd, before I wrought:
On him I rested, after long debate,

And, not without considering, fix'd my fate:
His flame was equal, though by mine inspir'd;
(For so the difference of our birth requir’d)
Had he been born like me, like me his love
Had first begun, what mine was fore'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, though not by thine allow'd
(Thy judgment herding with the common crowd)
Thou tak'st unjust offence; 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' offence 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 should'st oversee
Superior causes, or impute to me

The fault of Fortune, or the Fates' decree.
Or call it Heaven's imperial power alone,
Which moves on springs of justice, though un-
known.

│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 mould of man;
One paste of flesh on all degrees bestow'd,
And kneaded up alike with moistening blood.
The same Almighty Power inspir'd the frame
With kindled life, and form'd the souls the same:
The faculties of intellect and will
[ski!l,
Dispens'd with equal hand, dispos'd with equal
Like liberty indulg'd with choice of good or ill:
Thus born alike, from virtue first began
The difference 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 heavenly flame,
He wing'd his upright flight, and soar'd to fame;
The rest remain'd below, a tribe without a name.

"This law, though custom now diverts the
As Nature's institute, is yet in force; [course,
Uncancell'd, though disus'd; and he, whose mind
Is virtuous, is alone of noble kind;

Though 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 compared, the rest a base degenerate
line.

Nor took 1, when I first survey'd thy court,
His valour, 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 could'st judge
aright,

Till interest 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 alledge through pride of mind,
Thy blood with one of base condition join'd,
"Tis false; for 'tis 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 re-
ward.

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 power of giddy Chance,
For Fortune can depress, or can advance:

But true nobility is of the mind,

Not given by chance, and not to chance design'd.
For the remaining doubt of thy decree,
What to resoive, 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 barbarous appetite;
For I so little am dispos'd to pray
For life, I would not cast a wish away.
Such as it is, th' offence 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.

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, though 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 glew'd
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

Away, with women weep, and leave me here, The best return that I can live to make."

Fix'd like a man, to die without a tear;
Or save, or slay us both this present hour,
'Tis all that Fate has left within thy power."

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 power;
Dangerous 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, though 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
Enclos'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:
66 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 human-kind,”

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 power;
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 funeral present took:
Ev'n kept her countenance, when the lid remov'd
Disclos'd the heart, unfortunately lov'd;

The messenger dispatch'd, again she view'd
The lov'd remains, and sighing thus pursu'd:
"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,
Curs'd be the hands that tore thee from thy seat!
The course is finish'd which thy Fates 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 funeral exequíes,
The weeping tribute of thy widow's eyes,
And those, indulgent Heaven has found the way
That I, before my death, have leave to pay.
My father ev'n in cruelty is kind,

Or Heaven has turn'd the malice of his mind
To better uses than his bate design'd;
And made th' insult, which in bis 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; though 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
Then (as I know thy spirit hovers nigh) [tomb
Under thy friendly conduct will I fly
To regions unexplor'd, secure to share
Thy state; nor Hell shall punishment appear;
And Heaven is double Heaven, if thou art there."
She said: her brimful eyes, that ready stood,
And only wanted will to keep a flood,
Releas'd their watery store, and pour'd amain,
Like clouds, low hung, a sober shower 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 apply'd
To the cold heart) she kiss'd at once, and cry'd.
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 inquir'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 pursu'd: "O ever faithful Heart,
I have perform'd the ceremonial part,

'Twas in a grove of spreading pines he stray'd;
The winds within the quivering branches play'd,
And dancing trees a mournful music made.
The place itself was suiting to his care,
Uncouth and savage, as the cruel fair.

Stood Theodore surpris'd in deadly fright,
With chattering teeth, and bristling hair upright;
Yet arm'd with inborn worth, " Whate'er," said he,
"Thou art, who know'st me better than I thee;
Or prove thy rightful cause, or be defy'd ;"
The spectre, fiercely staring, thus reply'd :

Know, Theodore, thy ancestry I claim, And Guido Cavalcanti was my name.

He wander'd on, unknowing where he went
Lost in the wood, and all on love intent:
The Day already half his race had run,
And summon'd him to due repast at noon,
But Love could feel no hunger but his own.
Whilst listening to the murmuring leaves he Thee, then a boy, within my arms I laid,

stood,

More than a mile immers'd within the wood,

:

At once the wind was laid; the whispering sound
Was dumb; a rising earthquake rock'd the ground;
With deeper brown the grove was overspread;
A sudden horrour seized his giddy head,
And his ears tinkled, and his colour fled.
Nature was in alarm; some danger nigh
Seem threaten'd, though unseen to mortal eye.
Unus'd to fear, he summon'd all his soul,
And stood collected in himself, and whole;
Not long for soon a whirlwind rose around,
And from afar he heard a screaming sound,
As of a dame distress'd, who cry'd for aid,
And fill'd with loud laments the secret shade.
A thicket close beside the grove there stood,
With briers and brambles choak'd, and dwarfish
wood;
[near,
From thence the noise, which now, approaching
With more distinguish'd notes invades his ear;
He rais'd his head, and saw a beauteous maid,
With hair dishevell'd, issuing through the shade;
Stripp'd of her cloaths, and ev'n those parts reveal'd,
Which modest Nature keeps from sight conceal'd.
Her face, her hands, her naked limbs were torn,
With passing through the brakes, and prickly thorn;
Two mastiffs gaunt and grim her flight pursu'd,
And oft their fasten'd fangs in blood embru'd:
Oft they came up, and pinch'd her tender side,

Mercy, O mercy, Heaven!" she ran, and cry'd. When Heaven was nam'd, they loos'd their hold again,

Then sprang she forth, they follow'd her amain.
Not far behind, a knight of swarthy face, \
High on a coal-black steed pursu'd the chase;
With flashing flames his ardent eyes were fill'd,
And in his hand a naked sword 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;
Moy'd with unworthy usage of the maid,
He, though unarm'd, resolv'd to give her aid.
A saplin pine he wrench'd from out the ground,
The readiest weapon that his fury found.
Thus furnish'd for offence, he cross'd the way
Betwixt the graceless villain and bis prey.

One common sire our fathers did beget,
My name and story some remember yet:

When for my sins I lov'd this haughty maid;
Not less ador'd in life, nor served 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 scorn'd my sorrows, and despis'd my pain.
Long time I dragg'd my days in fruitless care;
Then, loathing life, and plung'd in deep despair,
To finish my unhappy life, I fell

On this sharp sword, and now am damn'd in Hell.
"Short was her joy; for soon th' insulting maid
By Heaven's decree in this cold grave was laid.
And as in unrepented sin she dy'd,
Doom'd to the same bad place is punish'd for her

pride:

[cast,

Because she deemed I well deserv'd to die,
And made a merit of her cruelty.
There, then, we met; both try'd, and both were
And this irrevocable sentence pass'd;
That she, whom I so long pursu’d in vain,
Should suffer from my hands a lingering pain:
Renew'd to life that she might daily die,
I daily doom'd to follow, she to fly;
No more a lover, but a mortal foe,

I seek her life (for love is none below):
As often as my dogs with better speed
Arrest her flight, is she to death decreed:
Then with this fatal sword, on which I dy'd,
I pierce her open back, or tender side,
And tear that barden'd heart from out her breast,
Which, with her entrails, makes my hungry
hounds a feast.

Nor lies she long, but, as her Fates ordain,
Springs up to life, and fresh to second pin,
Is sav'd to-day, to-morrow to be slain."

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 suffic'd, and greedy yet to kill.
And now the soul, expiring through the wound,
Had left the body breathless on the ground,
When thus the grisly spectre spoke again:
"Behold the fruit of ill-rewarded pain:
As many months as I sustain'd her hate,
So many years is she condemn'd by Fate

The knight came thundering on, but, from afar, To daily death; and every several place,

Thus in imperious tone forbade the war:
"Cease, Theodore, to proffer vain relief,
Nor stop the vengeance of so just a grief;
But give me leave to seize my destin'd prey,
And let Eternal Justice take the way:
I but revenge my fate, disdain'd, betray'd,
And suffering death for this ungrateful maid."

He said, at once dismounting from the steed;
For now the hell-hounds with superior speed
Had reach'd the dame, and, fastening on her side,
The ground with issuing streams of purple dy'd,

Conscious of her disdain and my disgrace,
Must witness her just punishment; and be
A scene of triumph and revenge to me !
As in this grove I took my last farewel,
As on this very spot of earth I fell,
As Friday saw me die, so she my prey
Becomes ev'n here, on this revolving day."
Thus while he spoke the virgin from the ground
Upstarted fresh, already clos'd the wound,
And, unconcern'd for all she felt before,
Precipitates her flight along the shore :'

The scene of death, and place ordain'd for punish-She thought herself the trembling dame who fled,