MEN AND WOMEN AND SORDELLO BY ROBERT BROWNING TWO VOLUMES IN ONE BO-STON HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY New York: 11 East Seventeenth Street rc00, 4Tamfiri&0e 1886 CAMBRIDGE: PRINTED AT THE RIVERSIDE PRESS MEN AND WOMEN. CONTENTS. ft* LOVE AMONG THE RUINS 1 A. LOVERS' QUARREL 6 EVELYN HOPE IS UP AT A VILLA DOWN IN THE CITY. (AS DISTIN- GUISHED BY AN ITALIAN PERSON OF QUALITY.) 16 A WOMAN'S LAST WORD 22 FRA LIPPO LIPPI 25 A TOCCATA OF GALUPPl's ..... 89 BY THE FIRESIDE 44 ANY WIFE TO ANY HUSBAND .... 68 AN EPISTLE CONTAINING THE STRANGE MEDICAL EX- PERIENCE OF KARSHISH, THE ARAB PHYSICIAN 65 MESMERISM 76 A SERENADE AT THE VILLA .... 83 MY STAR 87 INSTANS TYRANNUS 88 A PRETTY WOMAN 92 "CHILDE ROLAND TO THE DARE TOWER CAME" 96 RESPECTABILITY 106 A LIGHT WOMAN 108 THE STATUE AND THE BUST . . . . Ill LOVE IN A LIFE 184 T CONTENTS P* LIFE IN A LOVE 125 HOW IT STRIKES A CONTEMPORARY . 126 THE LAST RIDE TOGETHER 131 THE PATRIOT. AN OLD STORY .... 136 MASTER HUGUE8 OP SAXE-GOTHA ... 138 BISHOP BLOUGRAM'S APOLOGY .... 146 MEMORABILIA 183 ANDREA DEL SARTO. (CALLED "THE FAULTLESS PAINTER" . 184 BEFORE ... .... 194 AFTER ....197 IN THREE DAYS 198 IN A YEAR 200 OLD PICTURES IN FLORENCE .... 204 IN A BALCONY. FIRST PART . . . . 217 u SECOND PART . . . 231 " THIRD PART .... 244 8AUL - . 260 "DE GUSTIBUS " 284 WOMEN AND ROSES 286 PROTUS 289 HOLY-CROSS DAY. (ON WHICH THE JEWS WERE FORCED TO ATTEND AN ANNUAL CHRISTIAN SERMON IN ROME) * . . . . 292 THE GUARDIAN-ANGEL: A PICTURE AT FANO . 299 CLEON 302 THE TWINS 315 POPULARITY. . 817 THE HERETIC'S TRAGEDY. A MIDDLE-AGE INTER- LUDE 32) TWO IN THE CAMPAGNA 326 CONTENTS. V Pago A GRAMMARIAN'S FUNERAL 830 ONE WAY OF LOVE 836 ANOTHER WAY OF LOVE . . . . .837 "TRANSCENDENTALISM:" A POEM ra TWELVE BOOKS 339 MISCONCEPTIONS ... . . 842 ONE WORD MORE. TO K. B. B. . . 443 MEN AND WOMEN. LOVE AMONG THE RUINS. I. WHERE the quiet-coloured end of evening smilee Miles and miles On the solitary pastures where our sheep Half-asleep Tinkle homeward thro' the twilight, stray or stop As they, crop Was the site once of a city great and gay, (So they say) Of our country's very capital, its prince Ages since Held his court in, gathered councils, wielding far Peace or war. J 2 LOVE AMONG THE RUINS. 8. Now the country does not even boast a trie, As you see, To distinguish slopes of verdure, certain rills From the hills Intersect and give a name to, (else they run Into one) 4 Where the domed and daring palace shot its spires Up like fires O'er the hundred-gated circuit of a wall Bounding all, Made of marble, men might ~narch on nor be preat, Twelve abreast. 5. And such plenty and perfection, see, of grass Never was ! Such a carpet as, this summer-tune, o'erspreads And embeds Every vestige of the city, guessed alone, Stock or stone 6. Where a multitude of men breathed joy and woe Long ago ; dust of glory pricked their hearts up, dread of shame Struck them tame : LOVE AMONG THE BUINS. And that glory and that shame alike, the gold Bought and sold. 7. Now, the single little turret that remains On the plains, By the caper overrooted, by the gourd Overscored, While the patching houseleek's head of blossom winka Through the chinks 8. Marks the basement whence a tower in ancient time Sprang sublime, And a burning ring all round, the chariots traced As they raced, And the monarch and his minions and his dames Viewed the games. 9. And I know, while thus the quiet-coloured eve Smiles to leave To their folding, all our many-tinkling fleece In such peace, And the slopes and rills hi undistinguished gray Melt away 10. fhat a girl with eager eyes and yellow hair Waits me there 4 LOVE AMONG THE RUINS. In the turret, whence the charioteers caught soul For the goal, [dumb When the king looked, where she looks now, breathlessj Till I come. 11. But he looked upon the city, every side, Far and wide, All the mountains topped with temples, all the glades' Colonnades, All the causeys, bridges, aqueducts, and then, All the men ! 12. When I do come, she will speak not, she will stand, Either hand On my shoulder, give her eyes the first embrace Of my face, Ere we rush, ere we extinguish sight and speech Each on each. 13. En one year they sent a million fighters forth South and north, And they built their gods a brazen pillar high As the sky, let reserved a thousand chariots in full force Gold, of course. LOVE AMONG THE RUINS. 14. Oh heart ! oh, blood that freezes, blood that burns ! Earth's returns For whole centuries of folly, noise and sin ! Shut them in, With their triumphs and their glories and the rest. Love is best ! A LOVERS' QUAHUKL. 1. OH, what a dawn of day ! How the March sun feels like May ! All is blue again After last night's rain, And the South dries the hawthorn-spray. Only, my Love's away ! I'd as lief that the blue were gray. 2. Runnels, which rillets swell, Must be dancing down the dell With a foamy head On the beryl bed Paven smooth as a hermit's cell ; Each with a tale to tell, Could my Love but attend as well 3. Dearest, three months ago ! When we lived blocked-up with snow, A LOVKRS" QUARREL. When the wind would edge In and in his wedge, In, as far as the point could go Not to our ingle, though, Where we loved each the other so ! 4. Laughs with so h'ttle cause ! We devised games out of straws. We would try and trace One another's face In the ash, as an artist draws ; Free on each other's flaws, How we chattered like two church daws ! 5. What's in the Tunes? "a saold At the emperor deep and cold ; He has taken a bride To his gruesome side, That 's as fair as himself is bold : There they sit ermine-stoled, And she powders her hah* with gold. 6. Fancy the Pampas sheen ! Miles and miles of gold and green Where the sun-flowers blow In a solid glow, A LOVERS QUARREL. And to break now and then the screen - Black neck and eyeballs keen, Up a wild horse leaps between ! 7. Try, will our table turn ? Lay your hands there light, and yearn Till the yearning slips Thro' the finger tips In a fire which a few discern, And a very few feel burn, And the rest, they may live and leant 8. Then we would up and pace, For a change, about the place, Each with arm o'er neck 'Tis our quarter-deck, We are seamen in woeful case. Help in the ocean-space ! Or, if no help, we '11 embrace. 9. See, how she looks now, drest In a sledging-cap and vest 'Tis a huge fur cloak Like a reindeer's yoke Falls the lappet along the breast Sleeves for her arms to rest, Or to hanjr, as my Love likes best. A LOVERS' QUAUUUL. 10. Teach me to flirt a fan As the Spanish ladies can, Or I tint your lip With a burnt stick's tip And you turn into such a man ! Just the two spots that span Half the bill of the young male swan. 11. Dearest, three months ago When the mesmeriser Snow With his hand's first sweep Put the earth to sleep, Twas a time when the heart could show All how was earth to know, *Neath the mute hand's to-and-fro ! IS. Dearest, three months ago When we loved each other so, Lived and loved the same Till an evening came When a shaft from the Devil's bow Pierced to our ingle-glow, And the friends were friend and foe I 13. Not from the heart beneath Twas a bubble born of breath, 10 A LOVERS' QUARREL. Neither sneer nor vaunt, Nor reproach nor taunt. See a word, how it severeth ! Oh, power of life and death In the tongue, as the Preacher saith ! 14. Woman, and will you cast For a word, quite off at last, Me, your own, your you, Since, as Truth is true, I was you all the happy past Me do you leave aghast With the memories we amassed ? 15. Love, if you knew the light That your soul casts in my sight, How I look to you For the pure and true, And the beauteous and the right, Bear with a moment's spite When a mere mote threats the white I 16. What of a hasty word ? Is the fleshly heart not stirred By a worm's pin-prick Where its roots are quick ? A LOVERS' QUARREL. 11 See the eye, by a fly's-foot blurred Ear, when a straw is heard Scratch the brain's coat of curd I 17. Foul be the world or fair, More or less, how can I care ? 'Tis the world the same For my praise or blame, And endurance is easy there. Wrong in the one thing rare Oh, it is hard to bear I 18. Here 's the spring back or close, When the almond-blossom blows ; We shall have the word In that minor third There is none but the cuckoo knows Heaps of the guelder-rose 1 I must bear with it, I suppose. 19. Could but November come, Were the noisy birds struck dumb At the warning slash Of his driver's-lash I would laugh like the valiant Thumb Facing the castle glum And the giant's fee-faw-fum ! 19 A LOVERS' QUARREL. 20. Then, were the world well stript Of the gear wherein equipped We can stand apart, Heart dispense with heart In the sun, with the flowers unnipped, Oh, the world's hangings ripped, We were both in a bare- walled crypt I 21. Each in the crypt would cry * But one freezes here ! and why ? When a heart as chill At my own would thrill Back to life, and its fires out-fly ? Heart, shall we live or die ? The rest, . . . settle it by and by ! " 22. So, she 'd efface the score, And forgive me as before. Just at twelve o'clock I shall hear her knock In the worst of a storm's uproar 1 shall pull her through the door I shall have her for evermore 1 EVELYN HOPR l. BEAUTIFUL Evelyn Hope is dead ! Sit and watch by her side an hour. That is her book-shelf, this her bed ; She plucked that piece of geranium-flower, Beginning to die too, in the glass. Little has yet been changed, I think The shutters are shut, no light may pass Save two long rays thro' the hinge's chink. 2. Sixteen years old when she died 1 Perhaps she had scarcely heard my name It was not her time to love : beside, Her life had many a hope and aim, Duties enough and little cares, And now was quiet, now astir Rll God's hand beckoned unawares, And the sweet white brow is all of her. 14 EVELYN HOPE. 3. [g it too late then, Evelyn Hope ? What, your soul was pure and true, The good stars met in your horoscope, Made you of spirit, fire and dew And just because I was thrice as old, And our paths in the world diverged so wide, Each was nought to each, must I be told ? We were fellow mortals, nought beside ? 4. No, indeed ! for God above Is great to grant, as mighty to make, And creates the love to reward the love, I claim you still, for my own love's sake ! Delayed it may be for more lives yet, Through worlds I shall traverse, not a few Much is to learn and much to forget Ere the time be come for taking you. 5. Hut the time will come, at last it will, When, Evelyn Hope, what meant, I shall say, [n the lower earth, in the years long still, That body and soul so pure and gay ? Why your hair was amber, I shall divine, And your mouth of your own geranium 's red - what you would do with me, in fine, In the new life come in the old one's stead. EVELYN HOPE. 6. [ have lived, I shall say, so much since then, Given up myself so many times, Grained me the gains of various men, Ransacked the ages, spoiled the climes ; Yet one thing, one, hi my soul's full scope, Either I missed or itself missed me And I want and find you, Evelyn Hope ! What is the issue ? let us see ! I loved you, Evelyn, all the while ; My heart seemed full as it could hold There was place and to spare for the frank young smile And the red young mouth and the hair's young gold. So, hush, 1 will give you this leaf to keep See, I shut it inside the sweet cold hand, fhere, tnat is our secret ! go to sleep ; Sou will wake, and remember, and understand. UP AT A VILLA DOWN IN THE CITY. (AS mSTUJGlTISHKD BY All I* ALIAS PERSON OF QUALITT.) 1. HAD I but plenty of money, money enough and to spare, The house for me, no doubt, were a house in the city- square. -Ah, such a life, such a life, as one leads at the window there ! 2. Something to see, by Bacchus, something to hear, at Iwist ! There, the whole day long, one's life is a perfect feast ; While up at a villa one lives, I maintain it, no more than a beast. 3. Well now, look at our villa ! stuck like the horn of a bull UP Al A VILLA DOWN IN THE CUT. 17 Just on a mountain's edge as bare as the creature's skull, Save a mere shag of a bush with hardly a leaf to pull! I scratch my own, sometimes, to see if the hair 's turned wool. But the city, oh the city the square with the houses Why? They are stone-faced, white as a curd, there 's something to take the eye ! Houses hi four straight lines, not a single front awry I You watch who crosses and gossips, who saunters, who hurries by : jfreen blinds, as a matter of course, to draw when the sun gets high ; And the shops with fanciful signs which are painted properly. 5. What of a villa t Though whiter be over hi March by rights, Tis May perhaps ere the snow shall have withered well off the heights : V'ou 've the brown ploughed land before, where the oxen steam and wheeze, Ajid the hills over-smoked behind by the feint gray olive trees. 18 UP AT A VLLLA DOWN IN THE CITT. 6. Is it better in May, I ask you? you've summer all at once; In a day he leaps complete with a few strong April suns ! 'Mid the sharp short emerald wheat, scarce risen tlm:e fingers well, The wild tulip, at end of its tube, blows out ita great red bell, Like a thin clear bubble of blood, for the children to pick and sell. 7. Is it ever hot in the square ? There 's a fountain to spout and splash ! In the shade it sings and springs ; hi the shine such foam- bows flash On the horses with curling fish-tails, that prance and paddle and pash Round the lady atop hi the conch fifty gazers do not abash, Though all that she wears is some weeds round her waist in a sort of sash ! All the year long at the villa, nothing 's to see though you linger, Except yon cypress that points like Death's lean li forefinger. UP AT A VILLA DOWN IN THE CITY. 19 Some think fireflies pretty, when they mix hi the corn and mingle, Or tlirid the stinking hemp till the stalks of it seem a-tingle. Late August or early September, the stunning cicala ia shrill, And the bees keep their tiresome whine round the resinous firs on the hill. Enough of the seasons, I spare you the months of the fever and chill. 9. Ere opening your eyes in the city, the blessed church- bells begin : No sooner the bells leave off, than the diligence rattles hi: You get the pick of the news, and it costs you never a pin. By and by there 's the travelling doctor gives pills, lets blood, draws teeth ; Or the Pulcinello-trumpet breaks up the market beneath. At the post-office such a scene-picture the new play. piping hot ! And a notice how, only this morning, three liberal thieves were shot. tVbove it, behold the archbishop's most fatherly of rebukes, beneath, with his crown and his lion, some little new law of the Duke's ! tO UP AT A VILLA DOWN IN THE CITT. Or a sonnet with flowery marge, to the Reverend Don So-and-so Who is Dante, Boccaccio, Petrarca, Saint Jerome, and Cicero, * And moreover, " (the sonnet goes rhyming,) " the skirts of St. Paul has reached, Having preached us those six Lent-lectures more unctuous than ever he preached." Noon strikes, here sweeps the procession ! our Lady borne smiling and smart With a pink gauze gown all spangles, and seven swords stuck in her heart ! Bang, wkang, whang, goes the drum, tootle-te-tootle the fife ; No keeping one's haunches still : it 's the greatest pleasure in life. 10. But bless you, it' s dear it' s dear ! fowls, wine, at double the rate. They have clapped a new tax upon salt, and what oil pays passing the gate It 's a horror to think of. And so, the villa for me, not the city ! Beggars can scarcely be choosers but still ah, the pity, the pity ! Look, two and two go the priests, then the monks with cowls and sandals, And the penitents dressed in white shirts, a-holding the yellow candles. UP AT A VILLA DOWN IN THE CITT. 21 One, he carries a flag up straight, and another a cross with handles, And the Duke's guard brings up the rear, for the better prevention of scandals. Bang, whang, whang, goes the drum, tootle-te-tootle the fife. Oh, a day in the city-square, there is no such pleasure in Ufa! & WOMAN'S LAST WORD. l. LET'S contend no more, Love, Strive nor weep All be as before, Love, Only sleep ! 2. What so wild as words are ? I and thou In debate, as birds are, Hawk on bought See the creature stalking While we speak Hush and hide the talking, Cheek on cheek ! A WOMAN'S LAST WORD. 83 4. What so false as truth is, False to thee ? Where the serpent's tooth u, Shun the tree Where the apple reddens Never pry Lest we lose our Kdens, Eve and I ! 6. Be a god and hold me With a charm Be a man and fold me With thine arm 1 7. Teach me, only teach, Love I As I ought I will speak thy speech, Love, Think thy thought 8. Meet, if thou require it, Both demands, Laying flesh and spirit In thy hands ! A WOMAN'S LASI WOBIV. 9. That shall be to-morrow Not to-night : I must bury sorrow Out of sight. 10. Must a little weep, Love, Foolish me ! And so fall asleep, Love, Loved by thee. FRA LIPPO LIPPL 1 Ail poor brother Lippo, by your leave ! You need not clap your torches to my face. Zooks, what 's to blame ? you think you see a monk ! What, it 's past midnight, and you go the rounds, And here you catch me at an alley's end Where sportive ladies leave their doors ajar. The Carmine 's my cloister : hunt it up, Do, harry out, if you must show your zeal, Whatever rat, there, haps on his wrong hole, And nip each softling of a wee white mouse, Weke, weke, that's crept to keep him company! Aha, you know your betters ? Then, you '11 take Your hand away that's fiddling on my throat, And please to know me likewise. Who am I ? Why, one, sir, who is lodging with a friend Three streets off he 's a certain . . . how d'ye call ? Master a ... Cosimo of the Medici, In the house that caps the corner. Boh ! you were Remember and tell me, the day you 're hanged, 86 FRA LIPPO LIPPI. How you affected such a gullet's-gripe ! But you, sir, it concerns you that your knates Pick up a manner nor discredit you. Zooks, are we pilchards, that they sweep the streets And count fair prize what comes into their net ? He 's Judas to a tittle, that man is ! Just such a face ! why, sir, you make amends. Lord, I 'm not angry ! Bid your hangdogs go Drink out this quarter-florin to the health Of the munificent House that harbours me (And many more beside, lads ! more beside !) And all's come square again. I'd like his face His, elbowing on his comrade in the door With the pike and lantern, for the slave that holds John Baptist's head a-dangle by the hair With one hand (" look you, now," as who should say) And his weapon in the other, yet unwiped ! It 's not your chance to have a bit of chalk, A wood-coal or the like ? or you should see ! Yes, I 'm the painter, since you style me so. What, brother Lippo's doings, up and down, Von know them and they take you ? like enough ! [ saw the proper twinkle in your eye Tell you I liked your looks at very first. Let 's sit and set things straight now, hip to haunch. Here 's spring come, and the nights one makes up bani To roam the town and sing out carnival, And I Ve been three weeks shut within my mew, A -painting for the great man, saints and saints KRA L1PPO LIPPI. 17 And saints again. I could not paint all night - Ouf ! I leaned out of window for fresh air. There came a hurry of feet and little feet, A sweep of lutestrings, laughs, and whifts of song, Flower o* the broom, Take away love, and our earth is a tomb ! Flower o' the quince, I let Lisa go, and what good's in life since ? Flower 0' the thyme and so on. Round they went. Scarce had they turned the corner when a titter, Like the skipping of rabbits by moonlight, three slim shapes And a face that looked up ... zooks, sir, flesh and blood, That's all I'm made of! Into shreds it went, Curtain and counterpane and coverlet, All the bed furniture a dozen knots, There was a ladder ! down I let myself, Hands and feet, scrambling somehow, and so dropped, And after them. I came up with the fun Hard by St. Laurence, hail fellow, well met, Flower o' the rose, If Pve been merry, what matter who knows ? And so as I was stealing back again To get to bed and have a bit of sleep Ere I rise up to-morrow and go work On Jerome knocking at his poor old breast With his great round stone to subdue the flesh, fou snap me of the sudden. Ah, I see ! Though you- eye twinkles still, you shake your head t8 FRA LIPPO LIPPI. Mine's shaved, a monk, you say the sting's in that If Master Cosimo announced himself, Mum 's the word naturally ; but a monk ! Come, what am I a beast for ? tell us, now ! I was a baby when my mother died And father died and left me in the street. I starved there, God knows how, a year or two On fig-skins, melon-parings, rinds and shucks, Refuse and rubbish. One fine frosty day My stomach being empty as your hat, The wind doubled me up and down I went. Old Aunt Lapaccia trussed me with one hand, (Its fellow was a stinger as I knew) And so along the wall, over the bridge, By the straight cut to the convent. Six words, there, While I stood munching my first bread that month : K So, boy, you 're minded," quoth the good fat father Wiping his own mouth, 'twas refection-tune, * To quit this very miserable world ? Will you renounce "... The mouthful of bread / thought I ; By no means ! Brief, they made a monk of me ; I did renounce the world, its pride and greed, Palace, farm, villa, shop and banking-house, Trash, such as these poor devils of Medici Have given their hearts to all at eight years old. Well, sir, I found in time, you may be sure, Twas not for nothing the good bellyful, The warm serge and the rope that goes all round, FBA LIPPO L1PPI. 29 And day-long blessed idleness beside ! " Let 's see wbat the urchin 's fit for " that came next Not overmuch their way, I must confess. Such a to-do ! they tried me with their books. Lord, they 'd have taught me Latin in pure waste I Flower d 1 the clove, All the Latin I construe is, " amo" I love!. But, mind you, when a boy starves in the streets Eight years together, as my fortune was, Watching folk's faces to know who will fling The bit of half-stripped grape-bunch he desires, And who will curse or kick him for his pains Which gentleman processional and fine, Holding a candle to the Sacrament Will wink and let him lift a plate and catch The droppings of the wax to sell again, Or holla for the Eight and have him whipped, How say I ? nay, which dog bites, which lets drop His bone from the heap of offal in the street 1 The soul and sense of him grow sharp alike, He learns the look of things, and none the less For admonitions from the hunger-pinch. I had a store of such remarks, be sure, Which, after I found leisure, turned to use : f drew men's faces on my copy-books, Scrawled them within the antiphonary's marge, Domed legs and arms to the long music-notes, Found nose and eyes and chin for A.s and B.S, made a string of pictures of the world 50 FRA LIPPO ~IPPL Betwixt the ins and outs of verb and noun, On the wall, the bench, the door. The io Men's bodies out like silk ? with all the air Of Tophet's tool, on earth left unaware, Or brought to sharpen its rusty teeth of steel 25. Then came a bit of stubbed ground, once a wood, Next a marsh, it would seem, and now mere earth Desperate and done with ; (so a fool finds mirth, Makes a thing and then mars it, till his mood Changes and off he goes !) within a rood Bog, clay and rubble, sand and stark black dearth. 26. Now blotches rankling, coloured gay and grim, Now patches where some leanness of the soil's Broke into moss or substances lise boils ; Then came some palsied oak, a cleft in him Like a distorted mouth that splits its rim Gaping at death, and dies while it recoils. 27. And just as far as ever from the end ! Nought in the distance but the evening, nought, To point my footstep further ! At the thought, A great black bird, Apollyor.'s bosom-friend, Sailed past, nor beat his wide wing dragon-penned That brushed my cap perchance the guide I sought 10 4 " CHILDE ROI A.ND 28. For looking up, aware I somehow grew 'Spite of the dusk, the plain had given place All round to mountains with such name to grace Mere ugly heights and heaps now stol'n in view. How thus they had surprised me, solve it, you ! How to get from them was no plainer case. 29. Yet half I seemed to recognize some trick Of mischief happened to me, God knows when In a bad dream perhaps. Here ended, then, Progress this way. When, hi the very nick Of giving up, one time more, came a click As when a trap shuts you 're inside the den ! 30. Burningly it came on me all at once, This was the place ! those two hills on the right Crouched like two buUs locked horn in horn in fight WTiile to the left, a tall scalped mountain . . . Dunce, Fool, to be dozing at the very nonce, After a life spent training for the sight ! 31. Wliat in the midst lay but the Tower itself? The round squat turret, blind as the fool's heart, Built of brown stone, without a counterpart TO THB DARK TOWER CAME." 105 In the whole world. The tempest's mocking elf Points to the shipman thus the unseen shelf He strikes on, only when the timbers start. 32. Not see ? because of night perhaps ? Why, day Came back again for that ! before it left, The dying sunset kindled through a cleft : The hills like giants at a hunting, lay Chin upon hand, to see the game at bay, " Now stab and end the creature to the heft I " 33. Not hear? when noise was everywhere ? it tolled Increasing like a bell. Names in my ears, Of all the lost adventurers my peers, How such an one was strong, and such was bold, And such was fortunate, yet each of old Lost, lost ! one moment knelled the woe of years. 34. There they stood, ranged along the hill-sides met To view the last of me, a living frame For one more picture ! in a sheet of name [ saw them and I knew them all. And yet Dauntless the slug-horn to my lips I set And blew. ' Ghilde Roland to the Dark Tower came.'' RESPECTABILITY. DEAR, had the world in its caprice Deigned to proclaim " I know you both, Have recognized your plighted troth, 4m sponsor for you live in peace ! " low many precious months and years Of youth had passed, that speed so fast, Before we found it out at last, The world, and what it fears ? How much of priceless life were spent With men that every virtue decks, And women models of their sex, Society's true ornament, Ere we dared wander, nights like this, Thro' wind and rain, and watch the Seine^ And feel the Boulevart break again To warmth and light and bliss ? RESPECTABILITY. 107 3. I know ! the world proscribes not love ; Allows my finger to caress Your lip's contour and downiness, Provided it supply a glove. The world's good word ! the Institute 1 Guizot receives Montalembert ! Eh ? down the court three lampions flare Put forward your best foot I A LIGHT WOMAN. 1. So far as our story approaches the end, Which do you pity the most of us three ? My friend, or the mistress of my friend With her wanton eyes, or me ? 2. My friend was already too good to lose, And seemed in the way of improvement yet, When she crossed his path with her hunting-noos And over him drew her net. 3. When I saw him tangled in her toils, A shame, said I, if she adds just him To her nine-and-ninety other spoils, The hundredth, for a whim ! 4. And before my friend be wholly hers, How easy to prove to him, I said, An eagle 's the game her pride prefers, Though she snaps at the wren instead ! A LIGHT WOMAN. 109 5. So I gave her eyes my own eyes to take, My hand sought hers as hi earnest need, And round she turned for my noble sake, And gave me herself indeed. 6. The eagle am I, with my fame in the world, The wren is he, with his maiden face. You look away and your lip is curled ? Patience, a moment's space ! For see my friend goes shaking and white ; He eyes me as the basilisk : I have turned, it appears, his day to night, Eclipsing his son's disk. 8. And I did it, he thinks, as a very thief: " Though I love her that he comprehends One should master one's passions, (love, in chief) And be loyal to one's friends ! " 9. And she, she lies in my hand as tame As a pear hung basking over a wall ; Just a touch to try and off it came ; 'Tis mine, can I let it fall ? 110 A LIGHT WOMAN. 10. With no mind to eat it, that 's the worat ! Were it thrown in the road, would the case assist ' 'Twas quenching a dozen blue-flies' thirst When I gave its stalk a twist 11. And I, what I seem to my friend, you see What I soon shall seem to his love, you guess. What I seem to myself, do you ask of me ? No hero, I confess. 12. Tis an awkward thing to play with souls, And matter enough to save one's own. Yet think of my friend, and the burning coals He played with for bits of stone 1 13. One likes to show the truth for the truth ; That the woman was light is very true : But suppose she says, never mind that youth What wrong have I done to you ? 14. Well, any how, here the story stays, So far at least as I understand ; And, Robert Browning, you writer of plays, Here 's a subject made to your hand ! THE STATUE AND THE BUST. THERE 's a palace in Florence, the world knows w*ll, And a statue watches it from the square, And this story of both do the townsmen telL Ages ago, a lady there, At the furthest window facing the east Asked, " Who rides by with the royal air ? " The brides-maids' prattle around her ceased ; She leaned forth, one on either hand ; They saw how the blush of the bride increased They felt by its beats her heart expand As one at each ear and both in a breath Whispered, " The Great-Duke Ferdinand." That selfsame instant, underneath, The Duke rode past in his idle way, Empty and fine like a swordless sheath. 112 THE STATUE AND THE BUST. Gray he rode, with a friend as gay, Till he threw his head back " Who is she ? " "A Bride the Riccardi brings home to-day." Hair in heaps laid heavily Over a pale brow spirit-pure Carved like the heart of the coal-black tree, Crisped like a war-steed's encolure Which vainly sought to dissemble her eyes Of the blackest black our eyes endure. And lo, a blade for a knight's emprise Filled the fine empty sheath of a man, The Duke grew straightway brave and wise. He looked at her, as a lover can ; She looked at him, as one who awakes, The past was a sleep, and her life began. As love so ordered for both their sakes, A feast was held that selfsame night In the pile which the mighty shadow makes. (For Via Larga is' three-parts light, But the Palace overshadows one, Because of a crime which may God requite 1 THE STATUE AND THE BUST. To Florence and God the wrong was done, Through the first republic's murder there By Cosimo and his cursed son.) (The Duke with the statue's face in the square) Turned in the midst of his multitude At the bright approach of the bridal pair. Face to face the lovers stood A single minute and no more, While the bridegroom bent as a man subdued - Bowed till his bonnet brushed the floor For the Duke .on the lady a kiss conferred, As the courtly custom was of yore. tn a minute can lovers exchange a word ? [f a word did pass, which I do not think, Only one out of the thousand heard. That was the bridegroom. At day's brink He and his bride were alone at last In a bed-chamber by a taper's blink. Calmly he said that her lot was cast, That the door she had passed was shut on her Till the final catafalk repassed 8 M4 THE STATUE AND THE BUSl. The world meanwhile, its noise and stir, Through a certain window facing the east She might watch like a convent's chronicler. Since passing the door might lead to a feast, And a feast might lead to so much beside, He, of many evils, chose the least. u Freely I choose too," said the bride a Your window and its world suffice." So replied the tongue, while the heart replied K If I spend the night with that devil twice, May his window serve as my loop of hell Whence a damned soul looks on Paradise ! " I fly to the Duke who loves me well, Sit by his side and laugh at sorrow Ere I count another ave-bell. k 'Tis only the coat of a page to borrow, And tie my hair in a horse-boy's trim, And I save my soul but not to-morrow " (She checked herself and her eye grew dim) - u My father tarries to bless my state : I must keep it one day inure ibr him. THE STATUE AND THE BUST. 115 * Is one day more so long to wait ? Moreover the Duke rides past, I know We shall see each other, sure as fate," She turned on her side and slept. Just so 1 So we resolve on a thing and sleep. So did the lady, ages ago. That night the Duke said, " Dear or cheap As the cost of this cup of bliss may prove To body or soul, I will drain it deep." And on the morrow, bold with love, He beckoned the bridegroom (close on call, As his duty bade, by the Duke's alcove) And smiled " 'Twas a very funeral Your lady will think, this feast of ours, A shame to efface, whate'er befall ! " What if we break from the Arno bowers. And let Petraja, cool and green, Cure last night's fault with this morning's flowers ? * The bridegroom, not a thought to be seen On his steady brow and quiet mouth, Said, " Too much favour for me so mean I 116 THE STATUE AND THE BUST. " Alas ! my lady leaves the south. Each wind that comes from the Apennine Is a menace to her tender youth. " No way exists, the wise opine, If she quits her palace twice this year, To avert the flower of life's decline." Quoth the Duke, " A sage and a kindly fear. Moreover Petraja is cold this spring Be our feast to-night as usual here 1 " And then to himself " Which night shall bring Thy bride to her lover's embraces, fool Or I am the fool, and thou art his king ! u Yet my passion must wait a night, nor cool For to-night the Envoy arrives from France, Whose heart I unlock with thyself, my tool. " I need thee still and might miss perchance. To-day is not wholly lost, beside, With its hope of my lady's countenance u For I ride what should I do but ride ? And passing her palace, if I list, May glance at its window well betide 1 " THE STATUK AND THE BUST. 117 So said, so done : nor the lady missed One ray that broke from the ardent brow, Nor a curl of the lips where the spirit kissed. Be sure that each renewed the vow, No morrow's sun should arise and set And leave them then as it left them now. But next day passed, and next day yet, With still fresh cause to wait one more Ere each leaped over the parapet. And still, as love's brief morning wore, With a gentle start, half smile, half sigh, They found love not as it seemed before. They thought it would work infallibly, But not in despite of heaven and earth The rose would blow when the storm passed by, Meantime they could profit in winter's dearth By winter's fruits that supplant the rose : The world and its ways have a certain worth And to press a point while these oppose Were a simple policy best wait. And lose no friends and gain no foes. 118 THE 8TATUK ANI> THE BUST. Meanwhile, worse fates than a lover's fate Who daily may ride and lean and look Where bis lady watches behind the grate ! And she she watched the square like a book Holding one picture and only one, Which daily to find she undertook. When the picture was reached the book was And she turned from it all night to scheme Of tearing it out for herself next sun. Weeks grew months, years gleam by gleam The glory dropped from youth and love, And both perceived they had dreamed a dream. Which hovered as dreams do, still above, But who can take a dream for truth ? Oh, hide our eyes from the next remove 1 One day as the lady saw her youth Depart, and the silver thread that streaked Her hair, and, worn by the serpent's tooth, The brow so puckered, the chin so peaked, And wondered who the woman was, So hollow-eyed and haggard-cheeked, THK STATUE AND THE BUST. 119 Fronting her silent in the glass M Summon here," she suddenly said, u Before the rest of my old self pass, " Hun, the Carver, a hand to aid, Who moulds the clay no love will change, And fixes a beauty never to fade. " Let Robbia's craft so apt and strange Arrest the remains of young and fair, And rivet them while the seasons range. " Make me a face on the window there Waiting as ever, mute the while, My love to pass below in the square ! " And let me think that it may beguile Dreary days which the dead must spend Down in their darkness under the aisle " To say, ' what matters at the end ? I did no more while my heart was warm, Than does that image, my pale-faced friend.' u Where is the use of the lip's red charm, The heaven of hair, the pride of the brow, And the blood that blues the inside arm 1 20 *HE STATUL AND THE BUST. Unless we turn, as the soul knows how, The earthly gift to an end divine ? A lady of clay is as good, I trow." But long ere Robbia's cornice, fine With flowers and fruits which leaves enlace, Was set where now is the empty shrine (With, leaning out of a bright blue space, As a ghost might from a chink of sky, The passionate pale lady's face Eying ever with earnest eye And quick-turned neck at its breathless stretch. Some one who ever passes by ) The Duke sighed like the simplest wretch In Florence, " So, my dream escapes ! Will its record stay ? " And he bade them fetch Some subtle fashioner of shapes " Can the soul, the will, die out of a man Ere his body find the grave that gapes ? "John of Douay shall work my plan, Mould me on horseback here aloft, Alive (the subtle artisan !) THE STATUE AND THE BUST. 121 * In the very square I cross so oft ! That men may admire, when future suns Shall touch the ef es to a purpose soft u While the mouth and the brow are brave in bronze Admire and say, ' When he was alive, How he would take his pleasure once ! ' " And it shall go hard but I contrive To listen meanwhile and laugh in my tomb At indolence which aspires to strive." So ! while these wait the trump of doom* How do their spirits pass, I wonder, Nights and days in the narrow room ? Still, I suppose, they sit and ponder What a gift life was, ages ago, Six steps out of the chapel yonder. Surely they see not God, I kno\v, Nor all that chivalry of His, The soldier-saints who, row on row, Burn upward each to his point of bliss Since, the end of life being manifest, He had cut his way thro' the world to this. 122 THE STATUE AND THE BUST. I hear your reproach " But delay was best, For their end was a crime ! " Oh, a crime will do As well, I reply, to serve for a test, As a virtue golden through and through, Sufficient to vindicate itself And prove its worth at a moment's view. Must a game be played for the sake of pelf? Where a button goes, 'twere an epigram To offer the stamp of the very Guelph. The true has no value beyond the sham. As well the counter as com, I submit, When your table 's a hat, and your prize, a dram. Stake your counter as boldly every whit, Venture as truly, use the same skill, Do your best, whether winning or losing it, If you choose to play is my principle ! Let a man contend to the uttermost For his life's set prize, be it what it will ! The counter our lovers staked was lost As surely as if it were lawful coin : And the sin I impute to each frustrate ghost THE STATUE AJS'D THE BUST. 123 Was, the unlit lamp and the ungirt loin, Though the end in sight was a crime, I say. You of the virtue, (we issue join) How strive you ? De te,fabttla 1 LOVE IN A LIFE. 1. ROOM after room, I hunt the house through We inhabit together. Heart, fear nothing, for, heart, thou shalt find her, Next tune, herself ! not the trouble behind her Left in the curtain, the couch's perfume ! As she brushed it, the cornice-wreath blossomed anew, Yon looking-glass gleamed at the wave of her feather. 2. Yet the day wears, And door succeeds door ; F try the fresh fortune Range the wide house from the wing to the centre. Still the same chance ! she goes out as I enter. Spend my whole day in the quest, who cares ? But 'tis twilight, you see, with such suites to explore, Such closets to search, such alcoves to importune 1 LIFE IN A LOVE. ESCAPE me ? Never Beloved ! While I am I, and you are you, So long as the world contains us both, Me the loving and you the loth, While the one eludes, must the other pursue. My life is a fault at last, I fear It seems too much like a fate, indeed ! Though I do iry best I shall scarce succeed But what if I fail of my purpose here ? It is but to keep the nerves at strain, To dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall, And baffled, get up to begin again, So the chace takes up one's life, that 's all. While, look but once from your furthest bound, At me so deep in the dust and dark, No sooner the old hope drops to ground Than a new one, straight tc the selfsame mark, I shape me Ever Removed HOW IT STRIKES A CONTEMPORARY. I ONLY knew one poet in my life : And this, or something like it, was his way. You saw go up and down Valladolid, A man of mark, to know next time you saw. His very serviceable suit of black Was courtly once and conscientious still, And many might have worn it, though none did : The cloak that somewhat shone and showed the thread* Had purpose, and the ruff, significance. He walked and tapped the pavement with his cane, Scenting the world, looking it full in face, An old dog, bald and blindish, at his heels. They turned up, now, the alley by the church, That leads no whither ; now, they breathed themselvei On the main promenade just at the wrong time. You 'd come upon his scrutinizing hat, afaking a peaked shade blacker than itself Agaiu3t ti*i single window spared some house intaci yet with its mouldered Moorish work, Or else surprise the ferrel of his stick Trying the mortar's temper 'tween the chinks HOW IT STRIKES A CONTEMPORARY. 127 Of some new shop a-building, French and He stood and watched the cobbler at his trade, The man who slices lemons into drink, The coffee-roaster's brazier, and the boys That volunteer to help him turn its winch. He glanced o'er books on stalls with half an eye, And fly-leaf ballads on the vendor's string, And broad-edge bold-print posters by the wall. He took such cognizance of men and things, If any beat a horse, you felt he saw ; If any cursed a woman, he took note ; Yet stared at nobody, they stared at him, And found, less to their pleasure than surprise, He seemed to know them and expect as much. So, next time that a neighbour's tongue was loosed, It marked the shameful and notorious fact, We had among us, not so much a spy, As a recording chief-inquisitor, The town's true master if the town but knew ! We merely kept a Governor for form, While this man walked about and took account Of all thought, said, and acted, then went home, And wrote it fully to our Lord the King, Who has an itch to know things, He knows why, And reads them in His bedroom of a night. Oh, you might smile ! there wanted not a touch, A tang of ... well, it was not wholly ease As back into your mind the man's look came Stricken in years a little, such a brow 128 HOW IT STRIKES A CONTEMPORABY. His eyes had to live under ! clear as flint On either side the formidable nose Curved, cut, and coloured, like an eagle's claw. Had he to do with A.'s surprising fate ? When altogether old B. disappeared And young C. got his mistress, was 't our friend. His letter to the King, that did it all ? What paid the bloodless man for so much pains ? Our Lord the King has favourites manifold, And shifts his ministry some once a month ; Our city gets new Governors at whiles, But never word or sign, that I could hear. Notified to this man about the streets The King's approval of those letters conned The last thing duly at the dead of night. Did the man love his office ? frowned our Lord, Exhorting when none heard " Beseech me not ! Too far above my people, beneath Me ! I set the watch, how should the people know ? Forget them, keep Me all the more hi mind ! " Was some such understanding 'twixt the Two ? I found no truth in one report at least That if you tracked him to his home, down lanes Beyond the Jewry, and as clean to pace, You found he ate his supper in a room Blazing with lights, four Titians on the wall, And twenty naked girls to change his plate ! Poor man, he lived another kind of life HOW IT STRIKES A CONTEMPORARY. 129 In that new, stuccoed, third house by the bridge, Fresh-painted, rather smart than otherwise ! The whole street might o'erlook him as he sat, Leg crossing leg, one foot on the dog's back, Playing a decent cribbage with his maid ( Jacynth, you 're sure her name was) o'er the cheese And fruit, three red halves of starved winter-pears, Or treat of radishes in April ! nine Ten, struck the church clock, straight to bed went he. My father, like the man of sense ne was, Would point him out to me a dozen times , St St " he 'd whisper, the Corregidor ! " I had been used to think that personage Was one with lacquered breeches, lustrous belt, And feathers like a forest in his hat, Who blew a trumpet and proclaimed the news. Announced the bull-fights, gave each church its turn, And memorized the miracle in vogue ! He had a great observance from us boys I was in error ; that was not the man. I'd like now, yet had haply been afraid, To have just looked, when this man came to die, And seen who lined the clean gay garret's sides And stood about the neat low truckle-bed, With the heavenly manner of relieving guard. Here had been, mark, the general-in-chief, Thro' a whole campaign of the world's life and death 9 130 HOW IT STRIKES A OONTEMPORAKf. Doing the King's work all the dim day long, En his old coat, and up to his knees in mud, Smoked like a herring, dining on a crust, And now the day was won, relieved at once ! No further show or need for that old coat, You are sure, for one thing ! Bless us, all the while How sprucely we are dressed out, you and I ! A. second, and the angels alter that. Well, I could never write a verse, could you ? Let 'a to the Prado and make the most of time. THE LAST RIPE TOGETHER. 1. I SAID Then, dearest, since 'tis so, Since now at length my fate I know, Since nothing all my love avails, Since all my life seemed meant for, fails, Since this was written and needs must be My whole heart rises up to bless Your name in pride and thankfulness ! Take back the hope you gave, I claim Only a memory of the same, And this beside, if you will not blame, Your leave for one more last ride with me. 2. My mistress bent that brow of hers, Those deep dark eyes where pride demure When pity would be softening through, Fixed me a breathing-while or two With life or death in the balance Right ! The blood replenished me again : (32 THE LAST RIDE TOGETHER. My last thought was at least not vain. I and my mistress, side by side Shall be together, breathe and ride, So one day more am I deified. Who knows but the world may end to-night ? Hush ! if you saw some western cloud All billowy-bosomed, over-bowed By many benedictions sun's And moon's and evening-star's at once And so, you, looking and loving best, Conscious grew, your passion drew Cloud, sunset, moonrise, star-shine too Down on you, near and yet more near, Till flesh must fade for heaven was here ! Thus leant she and lingered joy and fear ! Thus lay she a moment on my breast. 4. Then we began to ride. My soul Smoothed itself out, a long-cramped scroll Freshening and fluttering in the wind. Past hopes already lay behind. What need to strive with a life awry ? Had I said that, had I done this, So might I gain, so might I miss. Might she have loved me ? just as well THE LAST RIDE TOGETHER. 133 She might have hated, who can tell ? Where had I been now if the worst befell ? And here we are riding, she and L 5. Fail I alone, in words and deeds ? Why, all men strive and who succeeds ? We rode ; it seemed my spirit flew, Saw other regions, cities new, As the world rushed by on either side. I thought, All labour, yet no less Bear up beneath their unsuccess. Look at the end of work, contrast The petty Done the Undone vast, This present of theirs with the hopeful past ! , I hoped she would love me. Here we ride. 6. What hand and brain went ever paired ? What heart alike conceived and dared ? What act proved all its thought had been ? What will but felt the fleshly screen ? We ride and I see her bosom heave. There's many a crown for who can reach Ten lines, a statesman's life in each ! The flag stuck on a heap of bones, A soldier's doing ! what atones ? They scratch his name on the Abbey -stones. My riding is better, by their leave. 134 THE LAST HIDE TOGETHER. What does it all mean, poet ? well, Your brain 's beat into rhythm you tell What we felt only ; you expressed You hold things beautiful the best, And pace them in rhyme so, side by side. Tis something, nay 'tis much but then, Have you yourself what 's best for men ? Are you poor, sick, old ere your time Nearer one whit your own sublime Than we who never have turned a rhyme ? Sing, riding 's a joy ! For me, I ride. 8. And you, great sculptor so you gave A score of years to art, her slave, And that 's your Venus whence we turn To yonder girl that fords the burn ! You acquiesce and shall I repine ? What, man of music, you, gro\vn gray With notes and nothing else to say, Is this your sole praise from a friend, " Greatly his opera's strains intend, But in music we know how fashions end ! " I gave my youth but we ride, in fine. 9. Who knows what's fit for us ? Had fate Proposed bliss here should sublimate THE LAST RIDE TOGETHER. 135 My being ; had I signed the bond Still one must lead some life beyond, Have a bliss to die with, dim-descried. This foot once planted on the goal, This glory-garland round my soul, Could I descry such ? Try and test ! I sink back shuddering from the quest Earth being so good, would Heaven seem best ? Now, Heaven and she are beyond this ride. 10. And yet she has not spoke so long ! What if Heaven be, that, fair and strong At life's best, with our eyes upturned Whither life's flower is first discerned, We, fixed so, ever should so abide ? What if we still ride on, we two, With life forever old yet new, Changed not in kind but in degree, The instant made eternity, And Heaven just prove that I and she Bide, ride together, forever ride ? THE PATRIOT. AM OLD STOBT. I. IT was roses, roses, all the way, "With myrtle mixed in my path like mad. The house-roofs seemed to heave and sway, The church-spires flamed, such flags they had, A year ago on this very day ! The air broke into a mist with bells, The old walls rocked with the crowds and cries. Had I said, " Good folks, mere noise repels But give me your sun from yonder skies ! " They had answered, " And afterward, what else ? " 3. Alack, it was I who leaped at the sun, To give it my loving friends to keep. Nought man could do, have I left undone, And you see my harvest, what I reap This very day, now a year is run. THE PATRIO1. 137 4. There 's nobody on the house-tops now Just a palsied few at the windows set For the best of the sight is, all allow, At the Shambles' Gate or, better yet, By the very scaffold's foot, I trow. 5. I go in the rain, and, more than needs, A rope cuts both my wrists behind, And I think, by the feel, my forehead bleeds, For they fling, whoever has a mind, Stones at me for my year's misdeeds. 6. Thus I entered Brescia, and thus I go ! In such triumphs, people have dropped down dead. " Thou, paid by the World, what dost thou owe Me ? " God might have questioned : but now instead Tis God shall requite ! I am safer so. MASTER flOGUES OF SAXE-GOTHA. HIST, but a word, fair and soft ! Forth and be judged, Master Hugues ! Answer the question I 've put you so oft What do you mean by your mountainous fugues ee, we 're alone in the loft, 1, the poor organist here, Hugues, the composer of note Dead, though, and done with, this many a year Let 's have a colloquy, something to quote, Make the world prick up its ear ! See, the church empties a-pace. Fast they extinguish the lights Hallo, there, sacristan ! five minutes' grace ! MASTER HUGHES OF SAXK-GOTHA. 139 Here 's a crank pedal wants setting to rights, Baulks one of holding the base. 4. See, our huge house of the sounds Hushing its hundreds at once, Bids the last loiterer back to his bounds Oh, you may challenge them, not a response Get the church saints on their rounds ! (Saints go their rounds, who shall doubt ? March, with the moon to admire, Up nave, down chancel, turn transept about, Supervise all betwixt pavement and spire, Put rats and mice to the rout 6. Aloys and Jurien and Just Order things back to their place, Have a sharp eye lest the candlesticks rust, Rub the church plate, darn the sacrament lace. Clear the desk velvet of dust) 7. Here 's your book, younger folks shelve ! Played I not off-hand and runningly, Just now, your masterpiece, hard number twelve ? 140 MASTER HDGDES OF SAXE-GOTHA. Here's what should strike, could one handle il Help the axe, give it a helve ! [cunningly 8. Page after page as I played, Every bar's rest where one wipes Sweat from one's brow, I looked up and surveyed O'er my three claviers, yon forest of pipes Whence you still peeped in the shade. 9. Sure you were wishful to speak, You, with brow ruled like a score, Yes, and eyes buried in pits on each cheek Like two great breves as they wrote them of yore Each side that bar, your straight beak ! 10. Sure you said " Good, the mere notes ! Still, couldst thou take my intent, Know what procured me our Company's votes Masters being lauded and sciolists shent, Parted the sheep from the goats ! " 11. Well then, speak up, never flinch ! Quick, ere my candle's a snuff Burnt, do you see ? to its uttermost inch MASTER HUGUE8 OF SAXE-GOTHA. 141 / believe in you, but that 's not enough. Erive my conviction a clinch . 12. First you deliver your phrase Nothing propound, that I see, Fit in itself for much blame or much praise Answered no less, where no answer needs bft i Off start the Two on then- ways I IS. Straight must a Third interpose, Volunteer needlessly help In strikes a Fourth, a Fifth thrusts in his nose, So the cry 's open, the kennel 's a-yelp, Argument 's hot to the close ! 14. One disertates, he is candid Two must discept, has distinguished ! Three helps the couple, if ever yet man did : Four protests, Five makes a dart at the. thing wished Back to One, goes the case bandied ! 15. One says his say with a difference More of expounding explaining ! Ail now is wrangle, abuse, and rociferance 142 MASTER HDGDES OF SAXE-GOTHA. Now there 's a truce, all 's subdued, self-restraining Five, though, stands out all the stiffer hence. 16. One is incisive, corrosive Two retorts, nettled, curt, crepitant Three makes rejoinder, expansive, explosive Four overbears them all, strident and strepitant Five . . . O Danaides, Sieve ! 17. Now, they ply axes and crowbars Now, they prick pins at a tissue Fine as a skein of the casuist Escobar's Worked on the bone of a lie. To what issue ? Where is our gain at the Two-bars ? 18. Estfuga, volvitur rota! On we drift. Where looms the dim port ? One, Two, Three, Four, Five, contribute their quota - Something is gained, if one caught but the import Sshow it us, Hugues of Saxe-Gotha! 19. VVTiat with affirming, denying, Holding, risposting, subjoining, AJ1 's like ... it 's like ... for an instance I 'm trying . MASTER HUGUES Otf SAXE-GOTHA. 143 There ! See our roof, its gilt moulding and groining Under those spider-webs lying! 20 So y our fugue broadens and thickens, Greatens and deepens and lengthens, Till one exclaims " But where 's music, the dickens ? Blot ye the gold, while your spider-web strengthens, Blacked to the stoutest of tickens ? " 21. E for man's effort am zealous. Prove me such censure 's unfounded ! Seems it surprising a lover grows jealous Hopes 'twas for something his organ-pipes sounded, Tiring three boys at the bellows ? 22. Is it your moral of Life ? Such a web, simple and subtle, Weave we on earth here in impotent strife. Backward and forward each throwing his shuttle, Death ending all with a knife ? 23. Over our heads Truth and Nature Still our life 's zigzags and dodges, Ins and outs weaving a netf legislature 144 MASTER HUGUES OF SAXE-GOTHA. God's gold just shining its last where that lodges, Palled beneath Man's usurpature ! 24. So we o'ershroud stars and roses, Cherub and trophy and garland. Nothings grow something which quietly closes Heaven's earnest eye, not a glimpse of the far lano Gets through our comments and glozes. 25. Ah, but traditions, inventions, (Say we and make up a visage) So many men with such various intentions Down the past ages must know more than this age I Leave the web all its dimensions ! Who thinks Hugues wrote for the deaf? Proved a mere mountain in labour ? Better submit try again what 's the clef ? 'Faith, it 's no trifle for pipe and for tabor Four flats the minor in F. 27. Friend, your fugue taxes the finger. Learning it once, who would lose it? Yet all the while a misjjivin will linger MASTER HUGUES OF 9AXE-GOTHA. 145 Truth 's golden o'er us although we refuse it Nature, thro' dust-clouds we fling her ! 28. Bugues ! I advise med pcend (Counterpoint glares like a Gorgon) Bid One, Two, Three, Four, Five, clear the arena ! Say the word, straight I unstop the Full-Organ, Blare out the mode Pahst^ina. 29. While in the roof, if I 'm right there . . . Lo, you, the wick in the socket ! Hallo, you sacristan, show us a light there ! Down it dips, gone like a rocket ! What, you want, do you, to come unawares, Sweeping the church up for first morning-prayers, And find a poor devil at end of his cares A-t the foot of your rotten-planked rat-riddled stain ? Do I carry the moon in my pocket ? 10 BISHOP BLOUGRAM'S APOLOGY. No more wine ? then we '11 push back chairs and talk A final glass for me, tho' : cool, i'faith ! We ought to have our Abbey back, you see. It' s different, preaching in basilicas, And doing duty in some masterpiece Like this of brother Pugin's, bless his heart ! I doubt if they 're half baked, those chalk rosettes, Ciphers and stucco-twiddlings everywhere ; It 's just like breathing in a lime-kiln : eh ? These hot long ceremonies of our church Cost us a little oh, they pay the price, You take me amply pay it ! Now, we '11 talk. So, you despise me, Mr. Gigadibs. No deprecation, nay, I beg you, sir ! Beside 'tis our engagement : don't you know, I promised, if you 'd watch a dinner out, We 'd see truth dawn together ? truth that peeps Over the glass's edge when dinner 's done* And body gets its sop and holds its noise BISHOP BLOUGRAM'S APOLOGY. 147 AJK! leaves soul free a little. Now 's the time Tis break of day ! You do despise me then. And if I say, " despise me," never fear [ know you do not in a certain sense Not in my arm-chair for example : here, I well imagine you respect my place (Status, entourage, worldly circumstance) Quite to its value very much indeed Are up to the protesting eyes of you In pride at being seated here for once You '11 turn it to such capital account ! When somebody, through years an^ years to come, Hints of the bishop, names me that 's enough u Blougram ? I knew him " (into it you slide) " Dined with him once, a Corpus Christi Day, All alone, we two he 's a clever man And after dinner, why, the wine you know, Oh, there was wine, and good ! what with the wine . . 'Faith, we began upon all sorts of talk ! He 's no bad fellow, Blougram he had seen Something of mine he relished some review He 's quite above their humbug in his heart, Half-said as much, indeed = the thing 's his trade [ warrant, Blougram 's skeptical at times How otherwise ? I liked him, I confess ! " die ch'e, my dear sir, as we say at Rome, Don't you protest now ! It 's fair give and take ; You have had your turn and spoken your home-truths The hand 's mine now, and here you follow suit. F48 BISHOP BLOUGRAM'S APOLOGY. Thus much conceded, still the first fact stays You do despise me ; your ideal of life Is not the bishop's you would not be I You would like better to be Goethe, now, Or Buonaparte or, bless me, lower still, Count D'Orsay. so you did what you preferred, Spoke as you thought, and, as you cannot help, Believed or disbelieved, no matter what, So long as on that point, whate'er it was, You loosed your mind, were whole and sole yourself That, my ideal never can include, Upon that element gf truth and worth Never be based ! for say they make me Pope (They can't suppose it for our argument) Why, there I 'm at my tether's end I 've reached My height, and not a height which pleases you. An unbelieving Pope won't do, you say. It 's like those eerie stories nurses tell, Of how some actor played Death on a stage With pasteboard crown, sham orb, and tinselled dart, And called himself the monarch of the world, Then going in the tire-room afterward Because the play was done, to shift himself, Got touched upon the sleeve familiarly The moment he had suut the closet door By Death himself. Thus God might touch a Pop At unawares, ask what his baubles mean, And whose part he presumed to play ju8t now ? Best be yourself, imperial, plain and true ! BISHOP BLOUGRAM'S APOLOGY 149 So, drawing comfortable breath again, You weigh and find whatever more or less I boast of my ideal realized Is nothing in the balance when opposed To your ideal, your grand simple life, Of which you will not realize one jot. I am much, you are nothing ; you would be a! I would be merely much you beat me there. No, friend, you do not beat me, hearken why The common problem, your's, mine, every one's, Is not to fancy what were fair in life Provided it could be, but, finding first What may be, then find how to make it fair Up to our means a very different thing ! No abstract intellectual plan of life Quite irrespective of life's plainest laws, But one, a man, who is man and nothing more, May lead within a world which (by your leave) Is Rome or London not Fool's-paradise. Embellish Rome, idealize away, Make Paradise of London if you can, You 're welcome, nay, you 're wise. A simile! We mortals cross the ocean of this world Each in his average cabin of a life The best 's not big, the worst yields elbow-room. Now ftr our six months' voyage how prepare? 150 BISHOP BLOUGRAM*S APOLOGY. You come on shipboard with a landsman's list Of things he calls convenient so they are ! An India screen is pretty furniture, A piano-forte is a fine resource, All Balzac's novels occupy one shelf, The new edition fifty volumes long; And little Greek books with the funny type They get up well at Leipsic fill the next Go on ! slabbed marble, what a bath it makes ! And Parma's pride, the Jerome, let us add ! Twere pleasant could Correggio's fleeting glow Hang full in face of one where'er one roams, Since he more than the others brings with him [taly's self, the marvellous Modenese ! Yet 'twas not on your list before, perhaps. Alas ! friend, here 's the agent ... is 't the name ? The captain, or whoever 's master here You see him screw his face up ; what 's his cry Ere you set foot on shipboard ? " Six feet square ! " If you won't understand what six feet mean, Compute and purchase stores accordingly And if in pique because he overhauls Your Jerome, piano and bath, you come on board Bare why you cut a, figure at the first. While sympathetic landsmen see you off; Not afterwards, when, long ere half seas o'er, You peep up from your utterly naked boards tnto some snug and well-appointed berth Like mine, for instance (try the cooler jug BISHOP BLOUGRAM'S APOLOGY Put back the other, but don't jog the ice) And mortified you mutter " Well and good He sits enjoying his sea-furniture 'Tis stout and proper, and there 's store of it, Though I 've the better notion, all agree, Of fitting rooms up ! hang the carpenter, Neat ship-shape fixings and contrivances I would have brought my Jerome, frame and all ! * And meantime you bring nothing : never mind You Ve proved your artist-nature : what you don't, You might bring, so despise me, as I say. Now come, let 's backward to the starting place. See my way : we 're two college friends, suppose Prepare together for our voyage, then, Each note and check the other in his work, Here 's mine, a bishop's outfit ; criticize ! What 's wrong ? why won't you be a bishop too ? Why, first, you don't believe, you don't and can t, (Not statedly, that is, and fixedly And absolutely and exclusively) In any revelation called divine. No dogmas nail your faith and what remains But say so, like the honest man you are ? First, therefore, overhaul theology ! Nay, I too, not a fool, you please to think, Must find believing every whit as hard, And if I do not frankly say as much, The ugly consequence is clear enough. 152 BISHOP BLODGBAM'S APOLOGY. Now, wait, my friend : well, I do not believe If you '11 accept no faith that is not fixed, Absolute and exclusive, as you say. (You 're wrong I mean to prove it in due time) Meanwhile, I know where difficulties lie I could not, cannot solve, nor ever shall, So give up hope accordingly to solve (To you, and over the wine.) Our dogmas then With both of us, tho' in unlike degree, Missing full credence overboard with them! I mean to meet you on your own premise Good, there go mine in company with yours ! And now what are we ? unbelievers both, Calm and complete, determinately fixed To-day, to-morrow, and forever, pray ? You '11 guarantee me that ? Not so, I think. In nowise ! all we Ve gained is, that belief, As unbelief before, shakes us by fits, Confounds us like its predecessor. Where 's The gain ? how can we guard our unbelief, Make it bear fruit to us ? the problem here. Just when we are safest, there 's a sunset-touch, A fancy from a flower-bell, some one's death, A chorus-ending from Euripides, And that's enough for fifty hopes and fears As old and new at once as nature's self, To rap and knock and enter in our soul, fake hands and dance there, a fantastic ring, BISHOP BLOUGRAM'S APOLOGY. 158 Round the ancient idol, on his base again, The grand Perhaps ! we look on helplessly, There the old misgivings, crooked questions are This good God, what he could do, if he would, Would, if he could then must have done long since . If so, when, where, and how ? some way must be, - Once feel about, and soon or late you hit Some sense, in which it might be, after all. Why not, " The Way, the Truth, the Life ?" That way Over the mountain, which who stands upon Is apt to doubt if it 's indeed a road ; While if he views it from the waste itself, Up goes the line there, plain from base to brow, Not vague, mistakable ! what 's a break or two Seen from the unbroken desert either side? And then (to bring in fresh philosophy) What if the breaks themselves should prove at last The most consummate of contrivances To train a man's eye, teach him what is faith, And so we stumble at truth's very test ? What have we gamed then by our unbelief But a life of doubt diversified by faith, For one of faith diversified by doubt. We called the chess-board white, wr call it black. " Well," you rejoin, " the end 's no worse, at least, W One made to love you, let the world take note. Have I done worthy work ? be love's the praise, Though hampered by restrictions, barred against By set forms, blinded by forced secresies. Set free my love, and see what love will do Shown in my life what work will spring from that The world is used to have its business done On other grounds, find great effects produced For power's sake, fame's sake, motives you have named So good. But let my low ground shame their high. Truth is the strong thing. Let man's life be true ! And love 's the truth of mine. Tune prove the rest ! I choose to have you stamped all over me, Tour name upon my forehead and my breast, You, from the sword's blade to the ribbon's edge, That men may see, all over, you in me That pale loves may die out of their pretence In face of mine, shames thrown on love fall off" Permit this, Constance ! Love has been so long Subdued in me, eating me through and through, That now it 's all of me and must have way. Think of my work, that chaos of intrigues, Those hopes and fears, surprises and delays, IN A BALCONT. That long endeavour, earnest, patient, slow, Trembling at last to its assured result Then think of this revulsion. I resume Life, after death, (it is no less than life After such long unlovely labouring days) And liberate to beauty life's great need Of the beautiful, which, while it prompted work, Supprest itself erewhile. This eve 's the time This eve intense with yon first trembling star We seem to pant and reach ; scarce aught between The earth that rises and the heaven that bends All nature self-abandoned every tree Flung as it will, pursuing its own thoughts And fixed so, every flower and every weed, No pride, no shame, no victory, no defeat : All under God, each measured by itself! These statues round us, each abrupt, distinct, The strong hi strength, the weak in weakness fixed, The Muse forever wedded to her lyre, The Nymph to her fawn, the Silence to her rose, And God's approval on his universe ! Let us do so aspire to live as these In harmony with truth, ourselves being true. Take the first way, and let the second come. My first is to possess myself of you ; The music sets the march-step forward then ! And there 's the Queen, I go to claim you of, The world to witness, wonder and applaud. Our flower of life breaks open. No delay 1 228 IN A BALCOXY. CONSTANCE. And so shall we be ruined, both of us. Norbert, I know her to the skin and bone You do not know her, were not born to it, To feel what she can see or cannot see. Love, she is generous, ay, despite your smile, Generous as you are. For, in that thin frame Pain-twisted, punctured through and through with cares There lived a lavish soul until' it starved Debarred all healthy food. Look to the soul Pity that, stoop to that, ere you begin (The true man's way) on justice and your rights, Exactions and acquittance of the past Begin so see what justice she will deal ! We women hate a debt as men a gift. Suppose her some poor keeper of a school Whose business is to sit thro' summer-months And dole out children's leave to go and play, Herself superior to such lightness she In the arm-chair's state and paedagogic pomp, To the life, the laughter, sun and youth outside We wonder such an one looks black on us ? I do not bid you wake her tenderness, That were vain truly none is left to wake But, let her think her justice is engaged To take the shape of tenderness, and mark If she '11 not coldly do its warmest deed ! Does she love me, I ask you ? not a whit. Tet, thinking that her justice was engaged IN A BALCONY. 228 To help a kinswoman, she took me up Did more on that bare ground than other love* Would do on greater argument. For me, I have no equivalent of that cold kind To pay her with ; my love alone to give If I give any thing. I give her love. I feel I ought to help her, and I will. So for her sake, as yours, I tell you twice That women hate a lebt as men a gift. If I were you, I could obtain this grace % Would lay the whole I did to love's account, Nor yet be very false as courtiers go Declare that my success was recompense ; It would be so, in fact : what were it else ? And then, once loosed her generosity As you will mark it then, were I but you To turn it, let it seem to move itself, And make it give the thing I really take, Accepting so, in the poor cousin's hand, All value as the next thing to the queen Since none loves her directly, none dares that I A shadow of a thing, a name's mere echo Suffices those who miss the name and thing ; You pick up just a ribbon she has worn To keep in proof how near her breath you came Say I 'm so near I seem a piece of her A.sk for me that way (oh, you understand) And find the same gift yielded with a grace. Wliich if you make the least show to extort 230 IN A BALCONY. You '11 see ! and when you have ruined both of us, Disertate on the Queen's ingratitude ! NORBERl . Then, if I turn it that way, you consent ? 'Tis not my way ; I have more hope in truth. Still, if you won't have truth why, this indeed, Is scarcely false, I '11 so express the sense. Will you remain here ? CONSTANCE. O best heart of mine, How I have loved you ! then, you take my way ? Are mine as you have been her minister, Work out my thought, give it effect for me, Paint plain my poor conceit and make it serve ? I owe that withered woman every thing Life, fortune, you, remember ! Take my part Help me to pay her ! Stand upon your rights ? You, with my rose, my hands, my heart on you ? Your rights are mine you have no rights but mine. Remain here. How you know me ! CONSTANCE. Ah, but still (He breaks from her : slie remains. Dance-mutit from within. SECOND i-ABT. Enter the QUEEN. Constance ' She is here as he said. Speak ! quick 1 fs it so ? is it true or false ? One word ! CONSTANCK. True. QUEEN. Mercifullest Mother, thanks to thee ! CONSTANCE. Madam ! QCEES I love you, Constance, from my soul. Now say once more, with any words you will, Tis true all true as true as that I speak. 232 IX A BALCONY. CONSTANCE. Wh y should you doubt it ? QUEEN. Ah, why doubt ? why doubt r Dear, make me see it. Do you see it so ? None see themselves another sees them best. You say " why doubt it ? " you see him and me. It is because the Mother has such grace That if we had but faith wherein we fail Whate'er we yearn for would be granted us ; Howbeit we let our whims prescribe despair, Our very fancies thwart and cramp our will, And so accepting life, abjure ourselves I Constance, I had abjured the hope of lovo And of being loved, as truly as yon palm The hope of seeing Egypt from that turf. CONSTANCE. Heaven ! QUEEN. But it was so, Constance, it was so. Men say or do men say it ? fancies say " Stop here, your life is set, you are grown old. Too late no love for you, too late for love Leave love to girls. Be queen let Constance love I * One takes the hint half meets it like a child, Ashamed at any feelings that oppose. IN A. BALCONT. 233 r Oh, love, true, never think of love again ! I am a queen I rule, not love, indeed." So it goes on ; so a face grows like this, Hair like this hair, poor arms as lean as these, Till, nay, it does not end so, I thank God ! CONSTANCE. I cannot understand QUEEN. The happier you ! Constance, I know not how it is with men. For women, (I am a woman now like you) There is no good of life but love but love ! What else looks good, is some shade flung from love Love gilds it, gives it worth. Be warned by me, Never you cheat yourself one instant. Love, Give love, ask only love, and leave the rest ! Constance, how I love you ! CONSTANCE. I love you. QUEEN. 1 do believe that all is come through you. I took you to my heart to keep it warm When the last chance of love seemed dead in. me ; I thought your fresh youth wanned my withered h' 234 IN A BALCONT. Oh, I am very old now, am I not ? Not so ! it is true and it shall be true ! CONSTANCE. Tell it me ! let me judge if true or false. QUEEN. Ah, but I fear you you will look at me And say " she 's old, she 's grown unlovely quite Who ne'er was beauteous ! men want beauty still." Well, so I feared the curse ! so I felt sure. CONSTANCE. Be calm. And now you feel not sure, you say ? QUEEN. Constance, he came, the coming was not strange Do not I stand and see men come and go ? I turned a half-look from my pedestal Where I grow marble " one young man the more 1 He will love some one, that is nought to me What would he with my marble stateliness ? " Yet this seemed somewhat worse than heretofore ; The man more gracious, youthful, like a god, And I still older, with less flesh to change We two those dear extremes that long to touch. It seemed still harder when he first began Absorbed to labour at the state-affairs IN A BALCONY. 235 The old way for the old end, interest. Oh. to live with a thousand beating hearts Around you, swift eyes, serviceable hands, Professing they 've no care but for your cause, Thought but to help you, love but for yourself, And you the marble statue all the time They praise and point at as preferred to life, Yet leave for the first breathing woman's cheek, First dancer's, gypsy's, or street baladine's ! Why, how I have ground my teeth to hear men't speech Stifled for fear it should alarm my ear, Their gait subdued lest step should startle me, Their eyes declined, such queendom to respect, Their hands alert, such treasure to preserve, While not a man of these broke rank and spoke, Or wrote me a vulgar letter all of love, Or caught my hand and pressed it like a hand. There have been moments, if the sentinel Lowering his halbert to salute the queen, Had flung it brutally and clasped my knees, I would have stooped and kissed him with my soul. CONSTANCE. Who could have comprehended ! QUEEN. Ay, who who ? Why, no one, Constance, but this one who did. Not they, not you, not I. Even now perhaps It comes too late would you but tell the truth. 236 I> A BALCONY. CONSTANCE I wait to tell rt. QUEEN. Well, you see, he came, Outfaced the others, did a work this year Exceeds in value all was ever done You know it is not I who say it all Say it. And so (a second pang and worse) I grew aware not only of what he did, But why so wondrously. Oh, never work Like his was done for work's ignoble sake It must have finer aims to spur it on ! I felt, I saw he loved loved somebody. And Constance, my dear Constance, do you know. I did believe this while 'twas you he loved. CONSTANCE. Me, madam ? QUEEN. It did seem to me your face Met him where'er he looked : and whom but you Was such a man to love ? it seemed to me You saw he loved you, and approved the love, And that you both were in intelligence. You could not loiter in the garden, step Into this balcony, but I straight was stung And forced to understand. It seemed so true, IN A BALCONY. 23< So right, so beautiful, so like you both That all this work should have been done by him Not for the vulgar hope of recompense, But that at la Or look for me, old fellow of mine, "DE GOSTIBUS " 285 (If I get my head from out the mouth O' the grave, and loose my spirit's bands, And come again to the land of lands) In a sea-side house to the farther south, Where the baked cicalas die of drouth, And one sharp tree ('tis a cypress) stands, By the many hundred years red-rusted, Rough iron-spiked, ripe fruit-o'ercrusted, My sentinel to guard the sands To the water's edge. For, what expands Without the house, but the great opaque Blue breadth of sea, and not a break ? While, in the house, forever crumbles Some fragment of the frescoed walls, From blisters where a scorpion sprawls. A girl bare-footed brings and tumbles Down on the pavement, green-flesh melons, And says there 's news to-day the king Was shot at, touched in the liver-wing, Goes with his Bourbon arm in a sling. She hopes they have not caught the felons. Italy, my Italy ! Queen Mary's saying serves for me (When fortune's malice Lost her, Calais.) Open my heart and you will see Graved inside of it, " Italy." Such lovers old are I and she ; So it always was, so it still shall be I WOMEN AND ROSES. 1. I DREAM of a red-rose tree. And which of its roses three Is the dearest rose to me ? 2. Round and round, like a dance of snow In a dazzling drift, as its guardians, go Floating the women faded for ages, Sculptured in stone, on the poet's pages. Then follow the women fresh and gay, Living and loving and loved to-day. Last, in the rear, flee the multitude of maidens. Beauties unborn. And all, to one cadence, They circle their rose on my rose tree. 3. Dear rose, thy term is reached, Thy leaf hangs loose and bleached : Bees pass it unimpeached. 4. Stay then, stoop, since I cannot climb, You, great shapes of the antique time ! WOMEN AND ROSES. 287 How shall I fix you, fire you, freeze you, Break my heart at your feet to please you ? Oh ! to possess, and be possessed ! Hearts that beat 'neath each pallid breast ! But once of love, the poesy, the passion, Drink once and die ! In vain, the same fashion, They circle their rose on my rose tree. 6. Dear rose, thy joy 's undimmed ; Thy cup is ruby-rimmed, Thy cup's heart nectar-brimmed. Deep as drops from a statue's plinth The bee sucked in by the hyacinth, So will I bury me while burning, Quench like him at a plunge my yearning, Eyes in your eyes, lips on your lips ! Fold me fast where the cincture slips, Prison all my soul hi eternities of pleasure I Girdle me once ! But no hi their old measure They circle their rose on my rose tree. 7. Dear rose without a thorn, Thy bud 's the babe unborn, First streak of a new morn 888 WOMEN AND ROSES. 8. Wings, lend wings for the cold, the clear ! What 's far conquers what is near. Roses will bloom nor want beholders, Sprung from the dust where our own flesh moulders. What shall arrive with the cycle's change ? A novel grace and a beauty strange. I will make an Eve, be the artist that began her, Shaped her to his mind ! Alas ! in like manner They circle their rose on my rose trea. PKOTLS. AMONG these latter busts we count by scores. Half-emperors and quarter-emperors, Each with his bay-leaf fillet, loose-thonged vett, Loric and low-browed Gorgon on the breast One loves a baby face, with violets there, Violets instead of laurel in tke hair, As those were all the little locks could bear. Now read here. " Protus ends a period Of empery beginning with a god : Born in the porphyry chamber at Byzant ; Queens by his cradle, proud and ministrant. And if he quickened breath there, 'twould like firt Pantingly through the dim vast realm transpire. A fame that he was missing, spread afar The world, from its four corners, rose in war, Till he was borne out on a balcony To pacify the world when it should see. The captains ranged before him, one, his hand Made baby points at, gained the chief command. 19 290 PEOTDS. And day by day more beautiful he grew In shape, all said, in feature and in hue, While young Greek sculptors gazing on the (ihild Were, so, with old Greek sculpture, reconciled. Already sages laboured to condense In easy tones a life's experience : And artists took grave counsel to impart In one breath and one hand-sweep, all their art To make his graces prompt as blossoming Of plentifully-watered palms in spring : Since well beseems it, whoso mounts the throne, For beauty, knowledge, strength, should stand alone, And mortals love the letters of his name." Stop ! Have you turned two pages ? Still the sama New reign, same date. The scribe goes on to say How that same year, on such a month and dav. " John the Pannonian, groundedly believed A blacksmith's bastard, whose hard hand reprieved The Empire from its fate the year before, Came, had a mind to take the crown, and wore The same for six years, (during which the Huns Kept off their fingers from us) till his sons Put something in his liquor " and so forth. Then a new reign. Stay " Take at its just worth (Subjoins an annotator) " what I give As hearsay. Some think John let Protus live And slip away. 'Tis said, he reached man's age At some blind northern court : made first a page, PEOTUS. 1'hen, tutor to the children last, of use About the hunting-stables. I deduce He wrote the little tract ' On worming dogs,' Whereof the name in sundry catalogues Is extant yet. A Protus of the Race Is rumoured to have died a monk in Thrace, And if the same, he reached senility." Here 's John the Smith's rough-hammered head. Groat eye Gross jaw and griped lips do what granite can To give you the crown-grasper. What a man I HOLT-CROSS DAY. OS WHICH THE JEWS WERE FORCED TO ATTEND AH ANNUAL CHRISTIAN SERMON IN ROME. I" Now was come about Holy-Cross Day, and now must my lord preach his first sermon to the Jews : as it was of old cared for in the merciful bowels of the Church, that, so to speak, a crumb at least from her conspicuous table here in Rome, should be, though but once yearly, cast to the famishing dogs, under-trampled and bespitten-npon beneath the feet of the guests. And a moving sight in truth, this, of so many of the besotted, blind, restive, and ready-to-perish Hebrews ! now paternally brought nay, (for He saith, ' Compel them to come in,') haled, as it were, by the head and hair, and against their obstinate hearts, to partake of the heavenly grace. What awakening, what striving with tears, what working of a yeasty conscience ! Nor was my lord wanting to himself on so apt an occasion ; witness the abundance of conver- sions which did incontinently reward him : though not to my lord be altogether the glory." Diary by the Bishop's Secretary, 1600.] Though what the Jews really said, on thus being driven U ihurch, was rather to this effect : 1. FEE, faw, fum ! bubble and squeak ! Blessedest Thursday 's the fat of the week. Bumble and tumble, sleek and rough, HOLT-CROSS DAY. 293 Stinking and savoury, smug and gruff, Take the church-road, for the bell's due chime Gives us the summons 'tis sermon-time. Boh, here 's Barnabas ! Job, that 's you ? Up stumps Solomon bustling too ? Shame, man ! greedy beyond your years To handsel the bishop's shaving-shears ? Fair play 's a jewel ! leave friends in the lurch ? Stand on a line ere you start for the church 3. Higgledy piggledy, packed we lie, Rats in a hamper, swine in a stye, Wasps in a bottle, frogs in a sieve, Worms in a carcase, fleas in a sleeve. Hist ! square shoulders, settle your thumbs And buzz for the bishop here he comes. 4. Bow, wow, wow a bone for the dog ! I liken his Grace to an acorned hog. What, a boy at his side, with the bloom of a lass, To help and handle my lord's hour-glass ! Didst ever behold so lithe a chine ? His cheek hath laps like a fresh-singed swine. 294 HOLT-CROSS DAT. 5. Aaron 's asleep shove hip to haunch, Or somebody deal him a dig in the paunch ! Look at the purse with the tassel and knob, And the gown with the angel and thingumbob. What 's he at, quotha ? reading his text ! Now you Ve his curtsey and what comes next ? 6. See to our converts you doomed black dozen No stealing away nor cog nor cozen ! You five that were thieves, deserve it fairly ; You seven that were beggars, will live less sparely. You took your turn and dipped in the hat, Grot fortune and fortune gets you ; mind that ! Give your first groan compunction 's at work ; And soft ! from a Jew you mount to a Turk. Lo, Micah, the selfsame beard on ebon He was four tunes already converted in ! Here 's a knife, clip quick it 's a sign of grace Or he ruins us all with his hanging-face. 8. Whom now is the bishop a-leering at ? I know a point where his text falls pat. HOLT-CROSS DAY. 295 I '11 tell him to-morrow, a word just now Went to my heart and made me vow I meddle no more with the worst of trades Let somebody else pay his serenades. 9. Groan all together now, whee hee hee ! It 's a-work, it 's a-work, ah, woe is me ! It began, when a herd of us, picked and placed, Were spurred through the Corso, stripped to the waist Jew-brutes, with sweat and blood well spent To usher in worthily Christian Lent. 10. It grew, when the hangman entered our bounds, Yelled, pricked us out to this church like hounds. It got to a pitch, when the hand indeed Which gutted my purse, would throttle my creed. And it overflows, when, to even the odd, Men I helped to their sins, help me to their God. 11. But now, while the scapegoats leave our flock, And the rest sit silent and count the clock, Since forced to muse the appointed tune On these precious facts and truths sublime, Let us fitly employ it, under our breath, In saying Ben Ezra's Song of Death, 296 HOLY-CROSS 12. For Rabbi Ben Ezra, the night he died, Called sons and sons' sons to his side, And spoke, " This world has been harsh and strange, Something is wrong, there needeth a change. But what, or where ? at the last, or first ? In one point only we sinned, at worst. 13. M The Lord will have mercy on Jacob yet, And again in his border see Israel set. When Judah beholds Jerusalem, The stranger-seed shall be joined to them : To Jacob's House shall the Gentiles cleave. So the Prophet saith and his sons believe. 14. " Ay, the children of the chosen race Shall carry and bring them to their place : In the land of the Lord shall lead the same, Bondsmen and handmaids. Who shall blame, When the slaves enslave, the oppressed ones o'er The oppressor triumph for evermore ? 15. '* God spoke, and gave us the word to keep : Bade never fold the hands nor sleep 'Mid a faithless world, at watch and ward, HO1Y-CROSS DAT. 297 Till the Christ at the end relieve our guard. By his servant Moses the watch was set : Though near upon cock-crow we keep it yet. 16. " Thou ! if thou wast He, who at mid-watch came, By the starlight naming a dubious Name ! And if we were too heavy with sleep too rash With tear O Thou, if that martyr-gash Fell on thee coming to take thine own, And we gave the Cross, when we owed the Throne* 17. u Thou art the Judge. We are bruised thus. But, the judgment over, join sides with us ! Thine too is the cause ! and not more thine Than ours, is the work of these dogs and swine, Whose life laughs through and spits at their creed, Who maintain thee in word, and defy thee in deed 1 18. u We withstood Christ then ? be mindful how At least we withstand Barabbas now ! Was our outrage sore ? but the worst we spared, To have called these Christians, had we dared \ Let defiance to them, pay mistrust of thee. And Rome make amends for Calvary ! 8 HOLY-CROSS DAT. 19. u By the torture, prolonged from age to age. By the infamy, Israel's heritage, By the Ghetto's plague, by the garb's disgrace, By the badge of shame, by the felon's place, By the branding-tool, the bloody whip, And the summons to Christian fellowship, 20. " We boast our proofs, that at least the Jew Would wrest Christ's name from the Devil's crew. Thy face took never so deep a shade But we fought them in it, God our aid ! A trophy to bear, as we march, a band South, east, and on to the Pleasant Land ! " [The present Pope abolished this bad businegg of tbt sermon. - - R. B. J fHE GUARDIAN- ANGEL: A riCTUBE AT FAJJO. DEAR and great Angel, wouldst thou only leave That child, when thou hast done with him, for me I Let me sit all the day here, that when eve Shall find performed thy special ministry And time come for departure, thou, suspending Thy flight, mayst see another child for tending, Another still, to quiet and retrieve. 2. Then I shall feel thee step one step, no more, From where thou standest now, to where I gaze, And suddenly my head be covered o'er "With those wings, white above the child who praya Now on that tomb and I shall feel thee guarding Me, out of all the world ; for me, discarding Yon heaven thy home, that waits and opes its door ! 3. I would not look up thither pasv thy head Because the door opes, like that child. I know, 300 THE GUARDIAN-ANGEL. For I should have thy gracious face instead, Thou bird of God ! And wilt thou bend me low Like him, and lay, like his, my hands together, And lift them up to pray, and gently tether Me, as thy lamb there, with thy garment's spread ? If this was ever granted, I would rest My head beneath thine, while thy healing hands Close-covered both my eyes beside thy breast, Pressing the brain, which too much thought expands Back to its proper size again, and smoothing Distortion down till every nerve had soothing, And all lay quiet, happy and supprest. 5. How soon all worldly wrong would be repaired ! I think how I should view the earth and skies And sea, when once again my brow was bared After thy healing, with such different eyes. 0, world, as God has made it ! all is beauty : And knowing this, is love, and love is duty. What further may be sought for or declared ? 6. Guercino drew this angel I saw teach (Alfred, dear friend) that little child to pray, Holding the little hands up, each to each Pressed gentlv. with his own head turned away THE GUARDIAN-ANGEL. 801 Over the earth where so much lay before him Of work to do, though heaven was opening o'er him, And he was left at Fano by the beach. 7 We were at Fano, and three tunes we went To sit and see him in his chapel there, And drink his beauty to our soul's content My angel with me too : and since I care For dear Guercino's fame, (to which in power And glory comes this picture for a dower, Fraught with a pathos so magnificent) 8. And since he did not work so earnestly At all times, and has else endured some wrong, I took one thought his picture struck from me, And spread it out, translating it to song. My Love is here. Where are you, dear old friend ? How rolls the Wairoa at your world's far end ? This is Ancona, yonder is the sea. 14 As certain also of your own poets have said " CLEON the poet, (from the sprinkled isles, Lily on lily, that o'erlace the sea, And laugh their pride when the light wave liapi "Greece") To Protos in his Tyranny : much health I They give thy letter to me, even now : I read and seem as if I heard thee speak. The master of thy galley still unlades Gift after gift ; they block my court at last And pile themselves along its portico Royal with sunset, like a thought of thee : And one white she-slave from the group dispersed Of black and white slaves, (like the chequer-work Pavement, at once my nation's work and gift, Now covered with this settle-down of doves) One lyric woman, in her crocus vest Woven of sea-wools, with her two white hands Commends to me the strainer and the cup Thy Up hath bettered ere it blesses mine. CLEON. 303 Well-counselled, king, in thy munificence ! For so shall men remark, in such an act Of love for him whose song gives life its joy, Thy recognition of the use of life ; Nor call thy spirit barely adequate To help on life in straight ways, broad enough For vulgar souls, by ruling and the rest. Thou, in the daily building of thy tower, Whether in fierce and sudden spasms of toil, Or through dun lulls of unapparent growth, Or when the general work 'mid good acclaim Climbed with the eye to cheer the architect, Didst ne'er engage in work for mere work's sake - Hadst eve^ in thy heart the luring hope Of some eventual rest a-top of it, Whence, all the tumult of the building hushed, Thou first of men mightst look out to the east. The vulgar saw thy tower ; thou sawest the sun. For this, I promise on thy festival To pour libation, looking o'er the sea, Making this slave narrate thy fortunes, speak Thy great words, and describe thy royal face Wishing thee wholly where Zeus lives the most Within the eventual element of calm. Thy letter's first requirement meets me here. It is as thou hast heard : in one short life F, Cleon, have effected all those things Thou wonderingly dost enumerate. 304 CLEON. That epos on thy hundred plates of gold Is mine, and also mine the little chaunt, So sure to rise from every fishing-bark When, lights at prow, the seamen haul the?" ueta. The image of the sun-god on the phare Men turn from the sun's self to see, is mine ; The Precile, o'er-storied its whole length, As thou didst hear, with painting, is mine too. I know the true proportions of a man And woman also, not observed before ; And I have written three books on the soul. Proving absurd all written hitherto, And putting us to ignorance again. For music, why, I have combined the moods, Inventing one. In brief, all arts are mine ; Thus much the people know and recognize, Throughout our seventeen islands. Marvel not. We of tnese latter days, with greater mind Than our forerunners, since more composite. Look not so great (beside their simple way) To a judge who only sees one way at once, One mind-point, and no other at a time, Compares the small part of a man of us With some whole man of the heroic age, Great in his way, not ours, nor meant for our% And ours is greater, had we skill to know. Yet, what we call this life of men on earth, This sequence of the soul's achievements here, Being, as I find much reason to conceive, CLEON. 305 Intended to be viewed eventually As a great whole, not analyzed to parts, But each part having reference to all, How shall a certain part, pronounced complete, Endure effacement by another part ? Was the thing done ? Then what 's to do again ? See, in the chequered pavement opposite, Suppose the artist made a perfect rhomb, And next a lozenge, then a trapezoid He did not overlay them, superimpose The new upon the old and blot it out, But laid them on a level in his work, Making at last a picture ; there it lies. So, first the perfect separate forms were made, The portions of mankind and after, so, Occurred the combination of the same. Or where had been a progress, otherwise ? Mankind, made up of all the single men, In such a synthesis the labour ends. Now, mark me those divine men of old time Have reached, thou sayest well, each at one point The outside verge that rounds our faculty ; And where they reached, who can do more than reach F It takes but little water just to touch At some one point the inside of a sphere, And, as we turn the sphere, touch all the rest In due succession : but the finer air Which not so palpably nor obviously, Though no less universally, can touch 20 806 CLEOW. The whole circumference of that emptied sphere, Fills it more fully than the water did ; Holds thrice the weight of water hi itself Resolved hi to a subtler element. And yet the vulgar call the sphere first full Up to the visible height and after, void ; Not knowing air's more hidden properties. And thus our soul, misknown, cries out to Zeus To vindicate his purpose in its life Why stay we on the earth unless to grow ? Long since, I imaged, wrote the fiction out, That he or other God, descended here And, once for all, showed simultaneously What, in its nature, never can be shown Piecemeal or in succession ; showed, I say, The worth both absolute and relative Of all His children from the birth of time, His instruments for all appointed work. I now go on to image, might we hear The judgment which should give the due to each, Show where the labour lay and where the ease, And prove Zeus' self, the latent, everywhere ! This is a dream. But no dream, let us hope, That years and days, the summers and the springs Follow each other with unwaning power? rhe grapes which dye thy wine, are richer far Through culture, than the wild wealth of the rock ; The suave plum than the savage-tasted drupe ; The pastured honey-bee drops choicer sweet ; OLE ON. 307 fhe flowers torn double, and the leaves turn flowers ; That young and tender crescent-moon, thy slave, Sleeping upon her robe as if on clouds, Refines upon the women of my youth. What, and the soul alone deteriorates ? I have not chanted verse like Homer's, no Nor swept string like Terpander, no nor carved And painted men like Phidias and his friend : I am not great as they are, point by point : But I have entered into sympathy With these four, running these into one soul, Who, separate, ignored each others' arts. Say, is it notliing that I know them all? The wild flower was the larger I have dashed Rose-blood upon its petals, pricked its cup's Honey with wine, and driven its seed to fruit, And show a better flower if not so large. I stand, myself. Refer this to the gods Whose gift alone it is ! which, shall I dare (All pride apart) upon the absurd pretext That such a gift by chance lay in my hand, Discourse of lightly or depreciate ? It might have fallen to another's hand what then t I pass too surely let at least truth stay I And next, of what thou followest on to ask. This being with me as I declare, O king, My works, in all these varicoloured kinds, 80 done by me, accepted so by men 308 CLEON. Thou askest if (my soul thus in men's hearts) I must not be accounted to attain The very crown and proper end of life. Inquiring thence how, now life closeth up, I face death with success in my right hand : Whether I fear death less than dost thyself The fortunate of men. " For " (writest thou) " Thou leavest much behind, while I leave nought ; Thy life stays in the poems men shall sing, The pictures men shall study ; while my life, Complete and whole now in its power and joy, Dies altogether with my brain and arm, Is lost indeed ; since, what survives myself? The brazen statue that o'erlooks my grave, Set on the promontory which I named. And that some supple courtier of my heir Shall use its robed and sceptred arm, perhaps, To fix the rope to, which best drags if down. I go, then : triumph thou, who dost not go ! " Nay, thou art worthy of hearing my whole mind. Is this apparent, when thou turn'st to muse Upon the scheme of earth and man in chief, That admiration grows as knowledge grows ? That imperfection means perfection hid, Reserved in part, to grace the afte--time ? If, hi the morning of philosophy, Ere aught had been recorded, aught perceived, rhou, with the light now in thee, couldst have looked CLEON. 309 On all earth's tenantry, from worm to bird, Ere man had yet appeared upon the stage Thou would. '" Wood At the fierce news : for, be it understot-*.. Envoys apprised Verona that her prince Count Richard of Saint Boniface, joined since HOW HER GUELFS ARE DISCOMFITED. A year with Azzo, Este's Lord, to thrust Taurello Salinguerra, prime in trust With Ecelin Romano, from his seat Ferrara, over zealous in the feat And stumbling on a peril unaware, Was captive, trammelled in his proper snare, They phrase it, taken by his own intrigue. Immediate succor from the Lombard League Of fifteen cities that affect the Pope, For Azzo, therefore, and his fellow-hope Of the Guelf cause, a glory overcast ! Men's faces, late agape, are now aghast. u Prone is the purple pavis ; Este makes Mirth for the devil when he undertakes To play the Ecelin ; as if it cost Merely your pushing-by to gain a post Like his ! The patron tells ye, once for all, There be sound reasons that preferment fall On our beloved "... " Duke o' the Rood, why not?" Shouted an Estian, " grudge ye such a lot ? The hill-cat boasts some cunning of her own, Some stealthy trick to better beasts unknown,- That quick with prey enough her hunger blunts, And feeds her fat while gaunt the lion hunts." " Taurello," quoth an envoy, " as in wane Dwelt at Ferrara. Like an osprey fain To fly but forced the earth his couch to make Far inland, till his friend the tempest wake, 5 WHY THEY ENTREAT THE LOMBARD LEAGUE, "Waits he the Kaiser's coming ; and as yet 'A hat fast friend sleeps, and he too sleeps : but let Only the billow freshen, and he snuffs The aroused hurricane ere it enroughs The sea it means to cross because of him. Sinketh the breeze ? His hope-sick eye grows dim ; Creep closer on the creature ! Every day Strengthens the Pontiff; Ecelin, they say, Dozes now at Oliero, with dry lips Telling upon his perished finger-tips How many ancestors are to depose Ere he be Satan's Viceroy when the doze Deposits him hi hell. So, Guelfs rebuilt Their houses ; not a drop of blood was spilt When Cino Bocchimpane chanced to meet Buccio Virtu God's wafer, and the street Is narrow ! Tutti Santi, think, a-swarm With Ghibellins, and yet he took no harm ! This could not last. Off Salinguerra went To Padua, Podesta, ' with pure intent,' Said he, ' my presence, judged the single bar To permanent tranquillity, may jar No longer ' so ! his back is fairly turned ? The pair of goodly palaces are burned, The gardens ravaged, and our Guelfs laugh, drunk A week with joy. The next, their laughter sunk In sobs of blood, for they found, some strange way, Old Salinguerra back again I say, Old Salinguerra in the town once more IN THEIR CHANGED FORTUNE AT FERRARA : Uprooting, overturning, flame before, Blood fetlock-high beneath him. Azzo fled ; Who scaped the carnage followed ; then the dead Were pushed aside from Salinguerra's throne, He ruled once more Ferrara, all alone. Till Azzo, stunned awhile, revived, would pounce Coupled with Boniface, like lynx and ounce, On the gorged bird. The burghers ground their teeth To see troop after troop encamp beneath F the standing corn thick o'er the scanty patch It took so many patient months to snatch Out of the marsh ; while just within their walls Men fed on men. At length Taurello calls A parley : ' let the Count wind up the war ! ' Richard, light-hearted as a plunging-star, Agrees to enter for the kindest ends Ferrara, flanked with fifty chosen friends, No horse-boy more, for fear your timid sort Should fly Ferrara at the bare report. Quietly through the town they rode, jog-jog ; ' Ten, twenty, thirty, curse the catalogue Of burnt Guelf houses ! Strange, Taurello shows Not the least sign of life ' whereat arose A general growl : ' How ? With his victors by ? I and my Veronese ? My troops and I ? Receive us, was your word ? ' So jogged they on, Nor laughed their host too openly : once gone Into the trap ! Six hundred years ago ! 1* 10 FOB THE TIMES GROW STORMY AGAIN. Such the time's aspect and peculiar woe (Yourselves may spell it yet in chronicles, Albeit the worm, our busy brother, drills His sprawling path through letters anciently Made fine and large to suit some abbot's eye) When the new Hohenstauffen dropped the mask, Flung John of Brienne's favor from his casque, Forswore crusading, had no mind to leave Saint Peter's proxy leisure to retrieve Losses to Otho and to Barbaross, Or make the Alps less easy to recross ; And, thus confirming Pope Honorius' fear, Was excommunicate that very year. " The triple-bearded Teuton come to life ! " Groaned the Great League ; and, arming for the strife, Wide Lombardy, on tiptoe to begin, Took up, as it was Guelf or Ghibellin, [ts cry ; what cry ? " The Emperor to come ! " His crowd of feudatories, all and some, That leapt down with a crash of swords, spears, shields, One fighter on his fellow, to our fields, Scattered anon, took station here and there, And carried it, till now, with little care Cannot but cry for him ; how else rebut Us longer ? Cliffs, an earthquake suffered jut In the mid-sea, each domineering crest, Nothing save such another throe can wrest From out (conceive) a certain chokeweed grown THE GHIBELLINS' WISH : THE GUELFS' WISH. 11 Since o'er the waters, twine and tangle thrown Too thick, too fast accumulating round, Too sure to over-riot and confound Ere long each brilliant islet with itself Unless a second shock save shoal and shelf, Whirling the sea-drift wide : alas, the bruised And sullen wreck ! Sunlight to be diffused For that ! Sunlight, 'neath which, a scum at first, The million fibres of our choke weed nurst Dispread themselves, mantling the troubled main, And, shattered by those rocks, took hold again, So kindly blazed it that same blaze to brood O'er every cluster of the multitude Still hazarding new clasps, ties, filaments, An emulous exchange of pulses, vents Of nature into nature ; till some growth Unfancied yet, exuberantly clothe A surface solid now, continuous, one : " The Pope, for us the People, who begun The People, carries on the People thus, To keep that Kaiser off and dwell with us ! " See you ? Or say, Two Principles that live Each fitly by its Representative. * Hill-cat " who called him so ? the gracefullest Adventurer, the ambiguous stranger-guest Of Lombardy (sleek but that ruffling fur, Those talons to their sheath !) whose velvet purr Soothes jealous neighbors when a Saxon scout 12 HOW ECELO'S HOUSE GREW HEAD OF THOSE, Arpo or Yoland, is it ? one without A country or a name, presumes to couch Beside their noblest ; until men avouch That, of all Houses in the Trevisan, Conrad descries no fitter, rear or van, Than Ecelo ! They laughed as they enrolled That name at Milan on the page of gold, Godego's lord, Ramon, Marostica, Cartiglion, Bassano, Loria, And every sheep-cote on the Suabian's fief! No laughter when his son, " the Lombard Chief Forsooth, as Barbarossa's path was bent To Italy along the Vale of Trent, Welcomed him at Roncaglia ! Sadness now The hamlets nested on the Tyrol's brow, The Asolan and Euganean hills, The Rhetian and the Julian, sadness fills Them all, for Ecelin vouchsafes to stay Among and care about them ; day by day Choosing this pinnacle, the other spot, A castle building to defend a cot, k cot built for a castle to defend, Nothing but castles, castles, nor an end To boasts how mountain ridge may join with ridge By sunken gallery and soaring bridge. He takes, in brief, a figure that beseems The griesliest nightmare of the Church's dreams, A Signory firm-rooted, unestranged From its old interests, and nowise changed AS AZZO LORD OF ESTE HEADS THESE. 13 By its new neighborhood ; perchance the vaunt Of Otho, " my own Este shall supplant Your Este," come to pass. The sire led in A son as cruel ; and this Ecelin Had sons, in turn, and daughters sly and tall, And curling and compliant ; but for all Romano (so they styled him) throve, that neck Of his so pinched and white, that hungry cheek Proved 't was some fiend, not him, the man's-flesh went To feed : whereas Romano's instrument, Famous Taurello Salinguerra, sole I* the world, a tree whose boughs were slipt the bole Successively, why should not he shed blood To further a design ? Men understood Living was pleasant to him as he wore His careless surcoat, glanced some missive o'er, Propped on his truncheon in the public way, While his lord lifted writhen hands to pray, Lost at Oliero's convent. Hill-cats, face With Azzo, our Guelf Lion ! nor disgrace A worthiness conspicuous near and far (Atii at Rome while free and consular, Este at Padua who repulsed the Hun) By trumpeting the Church's princely son Styled Patron of Rovigo's Polesine, Ancona's March, Ferrara's . . . ask, in fine, Our chronicles, commenced when some old monk Found it intolerable to be sunk 14 COUNT RICHARD'S PALACE AT VERONA. (Vexed to the quick by his revolting cell) Quite out of summer while alive and well : Ended when by his mat the Prior stood, 'Mid busy promptings of the brotherhood, Striving to coax from his decrepit brains The reason Father Porphyry took pains To blot those ten lines out which used to stand First on their charter drawn by Hildebrand. The same night wears. Verona's rule of yore Was vested in a certain Twenty-four ; And while within his palace these debate Concerning Richard and Ferrara's fate, Glide we by clapping doors, with sudden glare Of cressets vented on the dark, nor care For aught that 's seen or heard until we shut The smother in, the lights, all noises but The carroch's booming : safe at last ! Why strange Such a recess should lurk behind a range Of banquet-rooms ? Your finger thus you push A spring, and the wall opens, would you rush Upon the banqueters, select your prey, Waiting, the slaughter-weapons in the way Strewing this very bench, with sharpened ear A preconcerted signal to appear ; Or if you simply crouch with beating heart, Bearing in some voluptuous pageant part To startle them. Nor mutes nor masquers now ; Nor any . . . does that one man sleep whose brow The dying lamp-flame sinks and rises o'er ? OP THE COUPLE FOUND THEREIN, 15 What woman stood beside him ? not the more Is he unfastened from the earnest eyes Because that arras fell between ? Her wise And lulling words are yet about the room, Her presence wholly poured upon the gloom Down even to her vesture's creeping stir. And so reclines he, saturate with her, Until an outcry from the square beneath Pierces the charm : he springs up, glad to breathe ' Above the cunning element, and shakes The stupor off as (look you) morning breaks On the gay dress, and, near concealed by it, The lean frame like a half-burnt taper, lit Erst at some marriage-feast, then laid away Till the Armenian bridegroom's dying-day, In his wool wedding-robe. For he for he, Gate-vein of this hearts' blood of Lombardy, (If I should falter now) for he is Thine ! Sordello, thy forerunner, Florentine ! A herald-star I know thou didst absorb Relentless into the consummate orb That scared it from its right to roll along A sempiternal path with dance and song Fulfilling its allotted period, Serenest of the progeny of God ! Who yet resigns it not ; His darling stoops With no quenched lights, desponds with no blank troops Of disenfranchised brilliances, for, blent Utterly with thee, its shy element Ifi ONE BELONGS TO DANTE; HIS BERTHPLACE. Like thine upburneth prosperous and clear. Still, what 11 i approach the august sphere Named now with only one name, disentwine That under-current soft and argentine From its fierce mate in the majestic mass Leavened as the sea whose fire was mixt with glass In John's transcendent vision, launch once more That lustre ? Dante, pacer of the shore Where glutted hell disgorgeth filthiest gloom, Unbitten by its whirring sulphur-spume Or whence the grieved and obscure waters slope Into a darkness quieted by hope ; Plucker of amaranths grown beneath God's eye [n gracious twilights where His chosen lie, I would do this ! if I should falter now ! In Mantua-territory half is slough Half pine-tree forest ; maples, scarlet-oaks Breed o'er the river-beds ; even Mincio chokes With sand the summer through ; but 't is morass In winter up to Mantua walls. There was, Some thirty years before this evening's coil, One spot reclaimed from the surrounding spoil, Goito ; just a castle built amid A few low mountains ; firs and larches hid Their main defiles, and rings of vineyard bound The rest. Some captured creature in a pound, Whose artless wonder quite precludes distress, Secure beside in its own loveliness, So peered with airy head, below, above, A VAULT INSIDE THE CASTLE OF GOITO, 17 The castle at its toils, the lapwings love To glean among at grape-time. Pass within. A maze of corridors contrived for sin, Dusk winding-stairs, dim galleries got past, You gain the inmost chambers, gain at last A maple-panelled room : that haze which seems Floating about the panel, if there gleams A sunbeam over it, will turn to gold And in light-graven characters unfold The Arab's wisdom everywhere ; what shade Marred them a moment, those slim pillars made, Cut like a company of palms to prop The roof, each kissing top entwined with top, Leaning together ; in the carver's mind Some knot of bacchanals, flushed cheek combined With straining forehead, shoulders purpled, hair Diffused between, who in a goat-skin bear A vintage ; graceful sister-palms ! But quick To the main wonder, now. A vault, see ; thick Black shade about the ceiling, though fine slits Across the buttress suffer light by fits Upon a marvel in the midst. Nay, stoop A dullish gray-streaked cumbrous font, a group Round it, each side of it, where'er one sees, Upholds it shrinking Caryatides Of just-tinged marble like Eve's lilied flesh Beneath her Maker's finger when the fresh First pulse of life shot brightening the snow. The font's edge burdens every shoulder, so 18 AND WHAT BORDELLO WOULD SEE THERE. They muse upon the ground, eyelids half closed ; Some, with meek arms behind their backs disposed. Some, crossed above their bosoms, some, to veil Their eyes, some, propping chin and cheek so pale, Some, hanging slack an utter helpless length Dead as a buried vestal whose whole strength Goes when the grate above shuts heavily. So dwell these noiseless girls, patient to see, Like priestesses because of sin impure Penanced for ever, who resigned endure, Having that once drunk sweetness to the oregs. And every eve, Sordello's visit begs Pardon for them : constant as eve he came To sit beside each in her turn, the same As one c e them, a certain space : and awe Made a great indistinctness till he saw Sunset slant cheerful through the buttress-chinks, Gold seven times globed ; surely our maiden shrinks And a smile stirs her as if one faint grain Her load were lightened, one shade less the stain Obscured her forehead, yet one more bead slipt From off the rosary whereby the crypt Keeps count of the contritions of its charge ? Then with a step more light, a heart more large, He may depart, leave her and every one To linger out the penance in mute stone. Ah, but Sordello ? 'T is the tale I mean To tell you. In this castle may be seen, On the hill-tops, or underneath the vines, HIS BOYHOOD IN THE DOMAIN OF ECELIN. 19 Or eastward by the mound of firs and pines That shuts out Mantua, still in loneliness, A slender boy in a loose page's dress, Sordello : do but look on him awhile Watching ('t is autumn) with an earnest smile The noisy flock of thievish birds at work Among the yellowing vineyards ; see him lurk ('T is winter with its sullenest of storms) Beside that arras-length of broidered forms, On tiptoe, lifting in both hands a light Which makes yon warrior's visage flutter bright Ecelo, dismal father of the brood, And Ecelin, close to the girl he wooed, Auria, and their Child, with all his wives From Agnes to the Tuscan that survives, Lady of the castle, Adelaide. His face Look, now he turns away ! Yourselves shall trace (The delicate nostril swerving wide and fine, A sharp and restless lip, so well combine With that calm brow) a soul fit to receive Delight at every sense ; you can believe Sordello foremost in the regal class Nature has broadly severed from her mass Of men, and framed for pleasure, as she frames Some happy lands, that have luxurious names, For loose fertility ; a footfall there Suffices to upturn to the warm air Half-germinating spices ; mere decay Produces richer life ; and day by day 20 HOW A POET'S SOUL COMES INTO PLAY. New pollen on the lily-petal grows, And still more labyrinthine buds the rose. You recognize at once the finer dress Of flesh that amply lets in loveliness At eye and ear, while round the rest is furled (As though she would not trust them with her world) A veil that shows a sky not near so blue, And lets but half the sun look fervid through. How can such love ? like souls on each full-fraught Discovery brooding, blind at first to aught Beyond its beauty, till exceeding love Becomes an aching weight ; and, to remove A curse that haunts such natures to preclude Their finding out themselves can work no good To what they love nor make it very blest By their endeavor, they are fain invest The lifeless thing with life from their own soul, Availing it to purpose, to control, To dwell distinct and have peculiar joy And separate interests that may employ That beauty fitly, for its proper sake. Nor rest they here ; fresh births of beauty wake Fresh homage, every grade of love is past, With every mode of loveliness : then cast Inferior idols off their borrowed crown Before a coming glory. Up and down Buns arrowy fire, while earthly forms combine To throb the secret forth ; a touch divine And the scaled eyeball owns the mystic rod : WHAT DENOTES SUCH A SOUI/S PKOGKE8S. 21 Visibly through His garden walketh God. So fare they. Now revert. One character Denotes them through the progress and the stir, A need to blend with each external charm, Bury themselves, the whole heart wide and warm, In something not themselves ; they would belong To what they worship stronger and more strong Thus prodigally fed which gathers shape And feature, soon imprisons past escape The votary framed to love and to submit Nor ask, as passionately he kneels to it, Whence grew the idol's empery. So runs A legend : light had birth ere moons and suns, Flowing through space a river and alone, Till chaos burst and blank the spheres were strown Hither and thither, foundering and blind, When into each of them rushed light to find Itself no place, foiled of its radiant chance. Let such forego their just inheritance ! If ir there 's a class that eagerly looks, too, Oi beauty, but, unlike the gentler crew, Proclaims each new revealment born a twin With a distinctest consciousness within Referring still the quality, now first Revealed, to their own soul its instinct nursed In silence, now remembered better, shown More thoroughly, but not the less their own ; A dream come true ; the special exercise Of any special function that implies 2 HOW POETS CLASS AT LENGTH FOR HONOR, The being fair, or good, or wise, or strong, "Dormant within their nature all along Whose fault ? So, homage, other souls direct Without, turns inward ; " How should this deject Thee, soul?" they murmur; "wherefore strength quelled Because, its trivial accidents withheld, Organs are missed that clog the world, inert, Wanting a will, to quicken and exert, Like thine existence cannot satiate, Cannot surprise ? laugh thou at envious fate, Who, from earth's simplest combination stampt With individuality uncrampt By living its faint elemental life, Dost soar to heaven's complexest essence, rife With grandeurs, unaffronted to the last, Equal to being all ! " In truth? Thou hast Life, then wilt challenge life for us : our race Is vindicated so, obtains its place In thy ascent, the first of us ; whom we May follow, to the meanest, finally, ^ With our more bounded wills ? Ah, but to find A certain mood enervate such a mind, Counsel it slumber in the solitude Thus reached nor, stooping, task for mankind's good Its nature just as life and time accord * Too narrow an arena to reward OK SHAME WHICH MAT THE GODS AVEKT 2' Emprize the world's occasion worthless since Not absolutely fitted to evince Its mastery ! " Or if yet worse befall, And a desire possess it to put all That nature forth, forcing our straitened sphere Contain- it, to display completely here The mastery another life should learn, Thrusting in time eternity's concern, So that Sordello . . . Fool, who spied the mark Of leprosy upon him, violet-dark Already as he loiters ? Born just now, With the new century, beside the glow And efflorescence out of barbarism ; Witness a Greek or two from the abysm That stray through Florence-town with studious air, Calming the chisel of that Pisan pair : If Nicolo should carve a Christus yet ! While at Siena is Guidone set, Forehead on hand ; a painful birth must be Matured ere Saint Eufemia's sacristy Or transept gather fruits of one great gaze At the moon : look you ! The same orange haze, The same blue stripe round that and, i' the midst, Thy spectral whiteness, Mother-maid, who didst Pursue the dizzy painter ! Woe, then, worth Any officious babble letting forth The leprosy confirmed and ruinous To spirit lodged in a contracted house ! 24 FROM BORDELLO, NOW IN CHILDHOOD Go back to the beginning, rather ; blend It gently with Sordello's life ; the end Is piteous, you may see, but much between Pleasant enough. Meantime, some pyx to screen The full-grown pest, sone lid to shut upon The goblin ! So they found at Babylon, (Colleagues, mad Lucius and sage Antonine) Sacking the city, by Apollo's shrine, In rummaging among the rarities, A certain coffer ; he who made the prize Opened it greedily ; and out there curled Just such another plague, for half the world Was stung. Crawl in then, hag, and couch asquat, Keeping that blotchy bosom thick in spot Until your time is ripe ! The coffer-lid Is fastened, and the coffer safely hid Under the Loxian's choicest gifts of gold. Who will may hear Sordello's story told, And how he never could remember when He dwelt not at Goito. Calmly, then, About this secret lodge of Adelaide's Glided his youth away ; beyond the glades On the fir-forest's border, and the rim Of the low range of mountain, was for him No other world : but this appeared his own To wander through at pleasure and alone. The castle too seemed empty ; fax and wide Might he disport ; only the northern side Lay under a mysterious interdict THE DELIGHTS OF HIS CHILDISH FANCY, 25 Slight, just enough remembered to restrict * His roaming to the corridors, the vault Where those font-bearers expiate their fault, The maple-chamber, and the little nooks And nests, and breezy parapet that looks Over the woods to Mantua : there he strolled. Some foreign women-servants, very old, Tended and crept about him all his clew To the world's business and embroiled ado Distant a dozen hill-tops at the most And first a simple sense of life engrossed Sordello in his drowsy Paradise ; The day's adventures for the day suffice Its constant tribute of perceptions strange, With sleep and stir in healthy interchange, Suffice, and leave him for the next at ease Like the great palmer-worm that strips the trees, Eats the life out of every luscious plant, And, when September finds them sere or scant, Puts forth two wondrous winglets, alters quite, And hies him after unforeseen delight. So fed Sordello, not a shard disheathed ; As ever, round each new discovery, wreathed Luxuriantly the fancies infantine His admiration, bent on making fine Its novel friend at any risk, would fling In gay profusion forth : a ficklest king, Confessed those minions ! Eager to dispense So mQch from his own stock of thought and sense a 26 WHICH COULD BLOW OUT A GREAT BUBBLE, As might enable each to stand alone And serve him for a fellow ; with his own, Joining the qualities that just before Had graced some older favorite. Thus they wore A fluctuating halo, yesterday Set flicker and to-morrow filched away, Those upland objects each of separate name, Each with an aspect never twice the same, Waxing and waning as the new-born host Of fancies, like a single night's hoar-frost, Gave to familiar things a face grotesque ; Only, preserving through the mad burlesque A grave regard. Conceive ! the orpine-patch Blossoming earliest on the log-house-thatch The day those archers wound along the vines Related to the Chief that left their lines To climb with clinking step the northern stair Up to the solitary chambers where Sordello never came. Thus thrall reached thrall ; He o'er-festooning every interval, As the adventurous spider, making light Of distance, shoots her threads from depth to height, From barbican to battlement ; so flung Fantasies forth and in their centre swung Our architect, the breezy morning fresh Above, and merry, all his waving mesh Laughing with lucid dew-drops rainbow-edged. This world of ours by tacit pact is pledged To laying such a spangled fabric low BEING SECURE AWHILE FROM INTRUSION. 27 WTiether by gradual brush or gallant blow. But its abundant will was balked here : doubt Rose tardily in one so fenced about From most that nurtures judgment, care and pain : Judgment, that dull expedient we are fain, Less favored, to adopt betimes and force Stead us, diverted from our natural course Of jys> contrive some yet amid the dearth, Vary and render them, it may be, worth Most we forego. Suppose Sordello hence Selfish enough, without a moral sense However feeble ; what informed the boy Others desired a portion in his joy ? Or say a ruthful chance broke woof and warp A heron's nest beat down by March winds sharp, A fawn breathless beneath the precipice, A bird with unsoiled breast and filmless eyes Warm in the brake could these undo the trance Lapping Sordello ? Not a circumstance That makes for you, friend Naddo ! Eat fern-seed And peer beside us and report indeed If (your word) " genius " dawned with throes and stings And the whole fiery catalogue, while springs Summers and winters quietly came and went Time put at length that period to content, By right the world should have imposed : bereft Of its good offices, Sordello, left To study his companions, managed rip 8 BUT IT COMES ; AND NEW-BORN JUDGMENT Their fringe off, learn the true relationship, Core with its crust, their natures with his own : Amid his wild-wood sights he lived alone. As if the poppy felt with him ! Though he Partook the poppy's red effrontery Till Autumn spoiled their fleering quite with rain, And, turbanless, a coarse brown rattling crane Lay bare. That 's gone ! Yet why renounce, for that, His disenchanted tributaries flat Perhaps, but scarce so utterly forlorn, Their simple presence might not well be borne Whose parley was a transport once : recall The poppy's gifts, it flaunts you, after all, A poppy : why distrust the evidence Of each soon satisfied and healthy sense ? The new-born judgment answered : " little boots Beholding other creatures' attributes And having none ! " or, say that it sufficed, " Yet, could one but possess, one's self," (enticed Judgment) " some special office ! " Naught beside Serves you ? " Well, then, be somehow justified For this ignoble wish to circumscribe And concentrate, rather than swell, the tribe Of actual pleasures : what, now, from without Effects it ? proves, despite a lurking doubt, Mere sympathy sufficient, trouble spared ? That tasting joys by proxy thus, you fared The better for them ? " Thus much craved his soul. DECIDES THAT HE NEEDS SYMPATHIZERS. 29 AJas, from the beginning love is whole And true ; if sure of naught beside, most sure Of its own truth at least ; nor may endure A crowd to see its face, that cannot know How hot the pulses throb its heart below. While its own helplessness and utter want Of means to worthily be ministrant To what it worships, do but fan the more Its flame, exalt the idol far before Itself as it would have it ever be. Souls like Sordello, on the contrary, Coerced and put to shame, retaining will, Care little, take mysterious comfort still, But look forth tremblingly to ascertain If others judge their claims not urged in vain, And say for them their stifled thoughts aloud. So, they must ever li ve before a crowd : " Vanity," Naddo tells you. Whence contrive A crowd, now ? From these women just alive, That archer-troop ? Forth glided not alone Each painted warrior, every girl of stone, Nor Adelaide (bent double o'er a scroll, One maiden at her knees, that eve, his soul Shook as he stumbled through the arras'd glooms On them, for, 'mid quaint robes and weird perfumes, Started the meagre Tuscan up, her eyes, rhe maiden's, also, bluer with surprise) But the entire out-world : whatever, scraps 80 HE THEREFORE CREATES SUCH A COMPANX, And snatches, song and story, dreams perhaps, Conceited the world's offices, and he Had hitherto transferred to flower or tree, Nor counted a befitting heritage Each, of its own right, singly to engage Some man, no other, such now dared to stand Alone. Strength, wisdom, grace on every hand Soon disengaged themselves, and he discerned A sort of human life . at least, was turned A stream of lifelike figures through his brain. Lord, liegeman, valvassor and suzerain, Ere he could choose, surrounded him ; a stuff To work his pleasure on ; there, sure enough : But as for gazing, what shall fix that gaze ? Are they to simply testify the ways He who convoked them sends his soul along With the cloud's thunder or a dove's brood-song ? While they live each his life, boast each his own Peculiar dower of bliss, stand each alone In some one point where something dearest loved Is easiest gained far worthier to be proved Than aught he envies in the forest-wights ! No simple and self-evident delights, But mixed desires of unimagined range, Contrasts or combinations, new and strange, Irksome perhaps, yet plainly recognized By this, the sudden company loves prized By those who are to prize his own amount Of loves. Once care because such make account, EACH OF WHICH, LEADING ITS OWN LIFE, ol \llow a foreign recognition stamp The current value, and his crowd shall vamp Him counterfeits enough ; and so their print Be on the piece, 't is gold, attests the mint, And " good," pronounce they whom his new appeal Is made to : if their casual print conceal Tliis arbitrary good of theirs o'ergloss What he have lived without, nor felt the loss Qualities strange, ungainly, wearisome, What matter ? so must speech expand the dumb Part-sigh, part-smile with which Sordello, late No foolish woodland-sights could satiate, Betakes himself to study hungrily Just what the puppets his crude fantasy Supposes notablest, popes, kings, priests, knights, May please to promulgate for appetites ; Accepting all their artificial joys Not as he views them, but as he employs Each shape to estimate the other's stock Of attributes, that on a marshalled flock Of authorized enjoyments he may spend Himself, be men, now, as he used to blend With tree and flower nay more entirely, else 'T were mockery : for instance, " how excels My life that chieftain's ? " (who apprised the youtn Ecelin, here, becomes this month, in truth, Imperial Vicar ?) " Turns he in his tent Remiflsly ? Be it so my head is bent Deliciously amid my girls to sleep. 82 HAS QUALITIES IMPOSSIBLE TO A HOT, What if he stalks the Trentine-pass ? Yon steep I climbed an hour ago with little toil We are alike there. But can I, too, foil The Guelfs' paid stabber, carelessly afford Saint Mark's a spectacle, the sleight o' the sword Baffling their project in a moment ? " Here No rescue ! Poppy he is none, but peer To Ecelin, assuredly : his hand. Fashioned no otherwise, should wield a brand With Ecelin's success try, now ! He soon Was satisfied, returned as to the moon From earth ; left each abortive boy's-attempt For feats, from failure happily exempt, In fancy at his beck. " One day I will Accomplish it ! Are they not older stijl Not grown up men and women ? 'T is beside Only a dream ; and though I must abide With dreams now, I may find a thorough vent For all myself, acquire an instrument For acting what these people act ; my soul Hunting a body out, may gain its whole Desire some day ! " How else express chagrin And resignation, show the hope steal in With which he let sink from an aching wrist The rousrh-hewn ash bow ? straight, a gold shaft hissed Into the Syrian air, struck Malek down Superbly ! " Crosses to the breach ! God's Town Is gamed Him back!" Why bend rough ash-bo\v? more ? SO, ONLY TO BE APPROPRIATED IN FANCT, 33 Thus lives he : if not careless as before, Comforted : for one may anticipate, Rehearse the Future, be prepared when fate Shall have prepared in turn real men whose names Startle, real places of enormous fames, Este abroad and Ecelin at home To worship him, Mantua, Verona, Rome To witness it Who grudges time so spent ? Rather test qualities to heart's content Summon them, thrice selected, near and far Compress the starriest into one star, And grasp the whole at once ! The pageant thinned Accordingly ; from, rank to rank, like wind His spirit passed to winnow and divide ; Back fell the simpler phantasms ; every side The strong clave to the wise ; with either classed The beauteous ; so, till two or three amassed Mankind's beseemingn esses, and reduced Themselves eventually, graces loosed, And lavished strengths, to heighten up One Shape Whose potency no creature should escape. Can it be Friedrich of the bowmen's talk ? Surely that grape-juice, bubbling at the stalk, Is some gray scorching Saracenic wine The Kaiser quaffs with the Miramoline Those swarthy hazel-clusters, seamed and chapped,' Or filberts russet-sheathed and velvet-capped, Are dates plucked from the bough John Brienne sent, 2* o 54 AND PRACTISED ON TILL THE REAL COMB. To keep in mind his sluggish armament Of Canaan. Friedrich's, all the pomp and fierce Demeanor ! But harsh sounds and sights transpierce So rarely the serene cloud where he dwells, Whose looks enjoin, whose lightest words are spells On the obdurate ! That right arm indeed Has thunder for its slave ; but where 's the need Of thunder if the stricken multitude Hearkens, arrested in its angriest mood, While songs go up exulting, then dispread, Dispart, disperse, lingering overhead Like an escape of angels ? 'T is the tune, Nor much unlike the words the women croon Smilingly, colorless and faint-designed Each, as a worn-out queen's face some remind Of her extreme youth's love-tales. " Eglamor Made that ! " Half minstrel and half emperor, What but ill objects vexed him ? Such he slew. The kinder sort were easy to subdue By those ambrosial glances, dulcet tones ; And these a gracious hand advanced to thrones Beneath him. Wherefore twist and torture this, Striving to name afresh the antique bliss, Instead of saying, neither less nor more, He had discovered, as our world before, Apollo ? That shall be the name ; nor bid Me fag by rag expose how patchwork hid The youth what thefts of every clime and daj Contributed to purfle the array HE MEANS TO BE PERFECT SAT, APOLLO: 85 He climbed with (June at deep) some dose ravine 'Mid clatter of its million pebbles sheen, Over which, singing soft, the runnel slipt Elate with rains : into whose streamlet dipt He foot, yet trod, you thought, with unwet sock Though really on the stubs of living rock Ages ago it crenneled ; vines for roof, Lindens for wall ; before him, aye aloof, Flittered in the cool some azure damsel-fly, Born of the simmering quiet, there to die. Emerging whence, Apollo still, he spied Mighty descents of forest ; multiplied Tuft on tuft, here, the frolic myrtle-trees, There gendered the grave maple-stocks at ease. And, proud of its observer, strait the wood Tried old surprises on him ; black it stood A sudden barrier ('t was a cloud passed o'er) So dead and dense, the tiniest brute no more Must pass ; yet presently (the cloud despatched) Each clump, behold, was glistering detached A shrub, oak-boles shrunk into ilex-stems ! Yet could not he denounce the stratagems He saw thro', till, hours tnence, aloft would hang White summer-lightnings ; as it sank and sprang To measure, that whole palpitating breast Of heaven, 't was Apollo, nature prest At eve to worship. Time stole : by degrees The Pythons perish off; his votaries 36 AND APOLLO MUST ONE DAT FIND DAPHNE. Sink to respectful distance ; songs redeem Their pains, but briefer ; their dismissals seem Emphatic ; only girls are very slow To disappear his Delians ! Some that glow 0' the instant, more with earlier loves to wrench Away, reserves to quell, disdains to quench ; Alike in one material circumstance All soon or late adore Apollo ! Glance The bevy through, divine Apollo's choice, His Daphne ! " We secure Count Richard's voice In Este's counsels, good for Este's ends As our Taurello," say his faded friends, " By granting him our Palma ! " The sole child, They mean, of Agnes Este who beguiled Ecelin, years before this Adelaide Wedded and turned him wicked : " but the maid Rejects his suit," those sleepy women boast. She, scorning all beside, deserves the most Sordello : so, conspicuous in his world Of dreams sat Palma. How the tresses curled Into a sumptuous swell of gold and wound About her like a glory ! even the ground Was bright as with spilt sunbeams ; breathe not, breathe Not ! poised, see, one leg doubled underneath Its small foot buried in the dimpling snow, Rests, but the other, listlessly below, O'er the couch-side swings feeling for cool air, Tlxc vein-streaks swoln a richer violet where fhe languid blood lies heavU ; yet calm BTJT WHEN WELL THIS DREAM TURN TBUTH? 37 On her slight prop, each flat and outspread palm, As but suspended in the act to rise By consciousness of beauty, whence her eyes Turn with so frank a triumph, for she meets Apollo's gaze in the pine-glooms. Time fleets : That 's worst ! Because the pre-appointed age Approaches. Fate is tardy with the stage And crowd she promised. Lean he grows and pale, Though restlessly at rest. Hardly avail Fancies to soothe him. Time steals, yet alone He tarries here ! The earnest smile is gone. How long this might continue, matters not ; For ever, possibly ; since to the spot None come : our lingering Taurello quits Mantua at last, and light our lady flits Back to her place disburdened of a care. Strange to be constant here if he is there ! Is it distrust ? O, never ! for they both Goad Ecelin alike Romano's growth So daily manifest, that Azzo 's dumb And Richard wavers : let but Friedrich come ! Find matter for the minstrelsy's report, Lured from the Isle and its young Kaiser's court To sing us a Messina morning up, And, double rillet of a drinking-cup, Sparkle along to ease the land of drouth, Nbrthwa "d to Provence that, and thus far south The othei What a method to apprise 38 FOB THE TIME IS RIPE, AND HE BEADT. Neighbors of births, espousals, obsequies ! Which in their very tongue the Troubadour Records ; and his performance makes a tour, For Trouveres bear the miracle about, Explain its cunning to the vulgar rout, Until the Formidable House is famed Over the country as Taurello aimed, Who introduced, although the rest adopt, The novelty. Such games, her absence stopped, Begin afresh now Adelaide, recluse No longer, in the light of day pursues Her plans at Mantua : whence an accident Which, breaking on Sordello's mixed content, Opened, like any flash that cures the blind, The veritable business of mankind. BOOK THE SECOND. THIS BUBBLE OF FANCY, THE woods were long austere with snow : at last Pink leaflets budded on the beech, and fast Larches, scattered through pine-tree solitudes, Brightened, " as in the slumbrous heart o' the woods Our buried year, a witch, grew young again To placid incantations, and that stain About were from her cauldron, green smoke blent With those black pines " so Eglamor gave vent To a chance fancy. Whence a just rebuke From his companion ; brother Naddo shook The solemnest of brows ; " Beware," he said, " Of setting up conceits in nature's stead ! " Forth wandered our Sordello. Naught so sure As that to-day's adventure will secure Palma, the visioned lady only pass O'er yon damp mound and its exhausted grass, Under that brake where sundawn feeds the stalks Of withered fern with gold, into those walks Of pine, and take her ! Buoyantly he went. Again his stooping forehead was besprent With dew-drops from the skirting ferns. Then wide Opened the great morass, shot every side With flashing water through and through ; a-shine, 40 WHEN GREATEST AND BRIGHTEST, BURSTS. Thick-steaming, all alive. Whose shape divine Quivered i' the farthest rainbow- vapour, glanced Athwart the flying herons ? He advanced, But warily ; though Mincio leaped no more, Each footfall burst up in the marish-floor A diamond jet : and if he stopped to pick Rose-lichen, or molest the leeches quick, And circling blood-worms, minnow, newt or loach, A sudden pond would silently encroach This way and that. On Palma passed. The verge Of a new wood was gained. She will emerge Flushed, now, and panting, crowds to see, will OWE She loves him Boniface to hear, to groan, To leave his suit ! One screen of pine-trees still Opposes ; but the startling spectacle Mantua, this time ! Under the walls a crowd Indeed, real men and women, gay and loud Round a pavilion. How he stood ! In truth No prophecy had come to pass : his youth In its prune now and where was homage poured Upon Sordello? born to be adored, And suddenly discovered weak, scarce made To cope with any, cast into the shade By this and this. Yet something seemed to prick And tingle in his blood ; a sleight a trick And much would be explained. It went for naught The best of their endowments were ill bought With his identity ; nay, the conceit, AT A COURT OF LOVE, A MINSTREL SINGS. 41 That this day's roving led to Palma's feet Was not so vain list ! The word, " Palma ! " Steal Aside, and die, Sordello ; this is real, And this abjure ! What next ? The curtains, see, Dividing ! She is there ; and presently He will be there the proper You, at length In your own cherished dress of grace and strength : Most like, the very Boniface ! Not so. It was a showy man advanced ; but though A glad cry welcomed him, then every sound Sank and the crowd disposed themselves around, "This is not he," Sordello felt; while, " Place For the best Troubadour of Boniface ! " Hollaed the Jongleurs, " Eglamor, whose lay Concludes his patron's Court of Love to-day ! " Obsequious Naddo strung the master's lute With the new lute-string, " Elys,'.' named to suit The song : he stealthily at watch, the while, Biting his lip to keep down a great smile Of pride : then up he struck. Sordello's brain Swam ; for he knew a sometime deed again ; So, could supply each foolish gap and chasm The minstrel left in his enthusiasm, Mistaking its true version was the tale Not cf Apollo? Only, what avail Luring her down, that Elys an he pleased, If the man dared no further ? Has he ceased ? 42 BORDELLO, BEFORE PALMA, CONQUERS HIM, And, lo, the people's frank applause half done, Sordello was beside him, had begun (Spite of indignant twitchings from his friend The Trouve.re) the true lay with the true end, Taking the other's names and time and place For his. On flew the song, a tjiddy race, After the flying story ; word made leap Out word, rhyme rhyme ; the lay could barely keep Pace with the action visibly rushing past : Both ended. Back fell Naddo more aghast Than some Egyptian from the harassed bull That wheeled abrupt and, bellowing, fronted full His plague, who spied a scarab 'neath his tongue, And found 't was Apis' flank his hasty prong Insulted. But the people but the cries, The crowding round, and proffering the prize ! (For he had gained some prize) He seemed to shrink Into a sleepy cloud, just at whose brink One sight withheld him. There sat Adelaide, Silent ; but at her knees the very maid Of the North Chamber, her red lips as rich, The same pure fleecy hair ; one weft of which, Golden and great, quite touched his cheek as o'er She leant, speaking some six words and no more. He answered something, anything ; and she Unbound a scarf and laid it heavily Upon him, her neck's warmth and all. Again Moved the arrested magic ; in his brain Noises grew, and a light that turned to glare, RECEIVES THE PRIZE, AND RUMINATES. 43 And greater glare, until the intense flare Engulfed him, shut the whole scene from his sense. And when he woke 't was many a furlong thence, At home ; the sun shining his ruddy wont ; The customary birds'-chirp ; but bis front Was crowned was crowned ! Her scented scarf around His neck ! Whose gorgeous vesture heaps the ground ? A prize ? He turned, and peeringly on him Brooded the women-faces, kind and dim, Ready to talk. " The Jongleurs in a troop Had brought him back, Naddo and Squarcialupe And Tagliafer ; how strange ! a childhood spent In taking, well for him, so brave a bent ! Since Eglamor," they heard, " was dead with spite, And Palma chose him for her minstrel." Light Sordello rose to think, now ; hitherto He had perceived. Sure, a discovery grew Out of it all ! Best live from first to last The transport o'er again. A week he passed, Sucking the sweet out of each circumstance, From the bard's outbreak to the luscious trance Bounding his own achievement. Strange ! A man Recounted an adventure, but began Imperfectly ; his own task was to fill The framework up, sing well what he sang ill, Supply the necessary points, set loose As many incidents of little use More imbecile the other, not to see 44 HOW HAD HE BEEN SUPERIOR TO EGLAMOB? Their relative importance clear as he ! But, for a special pleasure in the act Of singing had he ever turned, in fact, From Elys, to sing Elys ? from each fit Of rapture, to contrive a song of it ? True, this snatch or the other seemed to wind Into a treasure, helped himself to find A beauty in himself; for, see, he soared By means of that mere snatch to many a hoard Of fancies ; as some falling cone bears soft The eye, along the fir-tree-spire, aloft To a dove's nest. Then, how divine the cause Such a performance might exact applause From men, if they had fancies too ? Could fate Decree they found a beauty separate In the poor snatch itself? " Take Elys, there, ' Her head that 's sharp and perfect like a pear, So close and smooth are laid the few fine locks Colored like honey oozed from topmost rocks Sun-blanched the livelong summer ' if they heard Just those two rhymes, assented at' my word, And loved them as I love them who have run These fingers through those pale locks, let the sun Into the white cool skin who first could clutch, Then praise I needs must be a God to such. Or if some few, above themselves, and yet Beneath me, like their Eglamor, have set An impress on our gift ? So, men believe And worship what they know not, nor receive THIS IS ANSWERED BY EGLAMOIt HIMSELF: 46 Delight from. Have they fancies slow, perchance, Not at their beck, which indistinctly glance Until, by song, each floating part be linked To each, and all grow palpable, distinct ? " He pondered this. Meanwhile, sounds low and drear 8tole on him, and a noise of footsteps, near And nearer, and the underwood was pushed Aside, the larches grazed, the dead leaves crushed At the approach of men. The wind seemed laid ; Only, the trees shrunk slightly and a shade Came o'er the sky although 't was midday yet : You saw each half-shut downcast floweret Flutter "a Roman bride, when they 'd dispart Her unbound tresses with the Sabine dart, Holding that famous rape in memory still, .Felt creep into her curls the iron chill, And looked thus," Eglamor would say indeed T is Eglamor, no other, these precede Home hither in the woods. " 'T were surely sweet Far from the scene of one's forlorn defeat To sleep ! " judged Naddo, who in person led Jongleurs and Trouveres, chanting at their head, A scanty company ; for, sooth to say, Our beaten Troubadour had seen his day. Old worshippers were something shamed, old friends Nigh weary ; still the death proposed amends. K Let us but get them safely through my song And home again ! ** quoth Naddo. 46 ONE WHO BELONGED TO WHAT HE LOVED, All along, This man (they rest the bier upon the sand) This calm corpse with the loose flowers in his hand, Eglamor, lived Sordello's opposite. For him indeed was Naddo's notion right, And verse a temple-worship vague and vast, A ceremony that withdrew the last Opposing bolt, looped back the lingering veil Which hid the holy place should one so frail Stand there without such effort ? or repine That much was blank, uncertain at the shrine He knelt before, till, soothed by many a rite, The Power responded, and some sound or sight Grew up, his own forever, to be fixed In rhyme, the beautiful, forever ! mixed With his own life, unloosed when he should please, Having it safe at hand, ready to ease All pain, remove all trouble ; every time He loosed that fancy from its bonds of rhyme. Like Perseus when he loosed his naked love, Faltering ; so distinct and far above Himself, these fancies ! He, no genius rare, Transfiguring in fire or wave or air At will, but a poor gnome that, cloistered up In some rock-chamber with his agate cup, His topaz rod, his seed-pearl, in these few And their arrangement finds enough to do For his best art. Then, how he loved that art ! The calling marking him a man apart LOTING HIS ART AND REWA11DKU BY IT, 47 From men one not to care, take counsel for Cold hearts, comfortless faces (Eglamor Was neediest of his tribe) since verse, the gift, Was his, and men, the whole of them, must shift Without it, e'en content themselves with wealth And pomp and power, snatching a life hy stealth. So, Eglamor was not without his pride ! The sorriest bat which cowers through noontide While other birds are jocund, has one tune When moon and stars are blinded, and the prime Of earth is his to claim, nor find a peer ; And Eglamor was noblest poet here He knew that, 'mid the April woods, he cast Conceits upon in plenty as he past, That Naddo might suppose him not to think Entirely on the coming triumph : wink At the one weakness ! 'T was a fervid child, That song of his no brother of the guild Had e'er conceived its like. The rest you know. The exaltation and the overthrow : Our poet lost his purpose, lost his rank, His life to that it came. Yet envy sank Within him, as he heard Sordello out, And, for the first time, shouted tried to shout Like others, not from any zeal to show Pleasure that way : the common sort did so, And what was Eglamor ? who, bending down The same, placed his beneath Sordello's crown. Printed a kiss on his successor's hand. 48 ENDING WITH WHAT HAD POSSESSED HIM. Left one great tear on it, then joined his band In time ; for some were watching at the door Who knows what envy may effect ? " Give o'er, Nor charm his lips, nor craze him ! " (here one spied And disengaged the withered crown) " Beside His crown ! How prompt and clear those verses rung To answer yours ! nay, sing them ! " And he sung Them calmly. Home he went ; friends used to wait His coming, zealous to congratulate, But, to a man, so quickly runs report. Could do no less than leave him, and escort His rival. That eve, then, bred many a thought : What must his future life be ? was he brought So low, who was so lofty this Spring morn ? At length he said, " Best sleep now with my scorn, And by to-morrow I devise some plain Expedient ! " So, he slept, nor woke again. They found as much, those friends, when they returned O'erflowing with the marvels they had learned About Sordello's paradise, his roves Among the hills and valleys, plains and groves, Wherein, no doubt, this lay was roughly cast, Polished by slow degrees, completed last To Eglamor's discomfiture and death. Such form the chanters now, and, out of breath, They lay the beaten man in his abode, Naddo reciting that same luckless ode, Doleful to hear. Sordello could explore By means of it, however, one step more EGLAMOB DONE WITH, BORDELLO BEGINS. 49 Iii joy ; and, mastering the round at length, Learnt how to live in weakness as in strength, When from his covert forth he stood, addressed Eglamor, bade the tender ferns invest, Primaeval pines o'ercanopy his couch, And, most of all, his fame (shall I avouch Eglamor heard it, dead though he might look, And laughed as from his brow Sordello took The crown, and laid it on his breast, and said It was a crown, now, fit for poet's head ?) Continue. Nor the prayer quite fruitless felL A plant they have yielding a three-leaved bell Which whitens at the heart ere noon, and ails Till evening ; evening gives it to her gales To clear away with such forgotten things As are an eyesore to the morn : this brings Him to their mind, and bears his very name. So much for Eglamor. My own month came; 'T was a sunrise of blossoming and May. Beneath a flowering laurel thicket lay Sordello ; each new sprinkle of white stars That smell fainter of wine than Massic jars Dug up at Baiae, when the south wind shed The ripest, made him happier ; filleted And robed the same, only a lute beside Lay on the turf. Before liim far and wide The country stretched : Goito slept behind The castle and its covert, which confined Him with his hopes and fears ; so fain of old 3 D 50 WHO HE REALLY WA8, AND WHY AT GO1TO. To leave the story of his birth untold. At intervals, 'spite the fantastic glow Of his Apollo-life, a certain low And wretched whisper, winding through the bliss, Admonished, no such fortune could be his, All was quite false and sure to fade one day : The closelier drew he round him his array Of brilliance to expel the truth. But when A reason for his difference from men Surprised him at the grave, he took no rest While aught of that old life, superbly drest Down to its meanest incident, remained A mystery alas, they soon explained Away Apollo ! and the tale amounts To this : when at Vicenza both her Counts Banished the Vivaresi kith and kin, Those Maltraversi hung on Ecelin, Reviled him as he followed ; he for spite Must fire their quarter, though that self-same night Among the flames young Ecelin was born Of Adelaide, there too, and barely torn From the roused populace hard on the rear, By a poor archer when his chieftain's fear Grew high ; into the thick Elcorte leapt, Saved her, and died ; no creature left except His child to thank. And when the full escape Was known how men impaled from chine to nape Unlucky Prata, all to pieces spurned Bishop Pistnre's concubines, and burned HE, SO LliVLE, WOULD FAIN BE SO MUCH : 51 Taurello's entire household, flesh and fell, Missing the sweeter prey such courage well Might claim reward. The orphan, ever since, Sordello, had been nurtured by his prince Within a blind retreat where Adelaide (For, once this notable discovery made, The Past at every point was understood) Might harbor easily when times were rude, When Azzo schemed for Palma, to retrieve That pledge of Agnes Este loath to leave Mantua unguarded with a vigilant eye, Taurello biding there ambiguously He who could have no motive now to moil For his own fortunes since their utter spoil As it were worth while yet (went the report) To disengage himself from her. In short, Apollo vanished ; a mean youth, just named His lady's minstrel, was to be proclaimed How shall I phrase it ? Monarch of the World I For, on the morning that array was furled Forever, and in place of one a slave To longings, wild indeed, but longings save In dreams as wild, suppressed one daring not Assume the mastery such dreams allot, Until a magical equipment, strength Grace, wisdom, decked him too, he chose at length, Content with unproved wits and failing frame, In virtue of his simple will, to claim That mastery, no less to do his best 52 LEAVES THE DREAM HE MAT BE SOMETHING, With means so limited, and let the rest Go by, the seal was set : never again Sordello could in his own sight remain One of the many, one with hopes and cares And interests nowise distinct from theirs, Only peculiar in a thriveless store Of fancies, which were fancies and no more ; Never again for him and for the crowd A common law was challenged and allowed If calmly reasoned of, howe'er denied By a mad impulse- nothing justified Short of Apollo's presence. The divorce Is clear : why needs Sordello square his course By any known example ? Men no more Compete with him than tree and flower before ; Himself, inactive, yet is greater far Thau such as act, each stooping to his star, Acquiring thence his function ; he has gained The same result with meaner mortals trained To strength or beauty, moulded to express Each the idea that rules him ; since no less He comprehends that function, but can still Embrace the others, take of might his fill With Richard as of grace with Palma, mix Their qualities, or for a moment fix On one ; abiding free meantime, uncramped By any partial organ, never stamped Strong, and to strength turning all energies Wise, and restricted to becoming wise FOE THE FACT THAT HE CAN DO NOTHING, 58 That is, he loves not, nor possesses One Idea that, star-like over, lures him on To its exclusive purpose. " Fortunate ! This flesh of mine ne'er strove to emulate A soul so various took no casual mould Of the first fancy and, contracted, cold, Lay clogged forever thence, averse to change As that : whereas it left her free to range, Remains itself a blank, cast into shade, Encumbers little, if it cannot aid. So, range, my soul ! who, by self-consciousness, The last drop of all beauty dost express The grace of seeing grace, a quintessence For thee : but for the world, that can dispense Wonder on men who, themselves, wonder make A shift to love at second-hand, and take Those for its idols who but idolize, Themseh es, world that loves souls as strong or wise, Who, themselves, love strength, wisdom, it shall bow Surely in unexampled worship now, Discerning me ! " (Dear monarch, I beseech, Notice how lamentably wide a breach Is here ! discovering this, discover too What our poor world has possibly to do With it ! As pygmy natures as you please So much the better for you ; take your ease ; Look on, and laugh ; style yourself God alone ; Strangle some day with a cross olive-stone : 54 YET IS ABLE TO IMAGINE EVERYTHING, All that is right enough : but why want us To know that you yourself know thus and thus ?) u The world shall bow to me conceiving all Man's life, who sees its blisses, great and small, Afar not tasting any ; no machine To exercise my utmost will is mine : Be mine mere consciousness ! Let them perceive What I could do, a mastery believe, Asserted and established to the throng By their selected evidence of song Which now shall prove, whate'er they are, or seek To be, I am who take no pains to speak, Change no old standards of perfection, vex With no strange forms created to perplex, But will perform their bidding and no more, At their own satiating-point give o'er, While each shall love in me the love that leads His soul to its perfection." Song, not deeds, (For we get tired) was chosen. Fate would brook Mankind no other organ ; he would look For not another channel to dispense His own volition, and receive their sense Of its existing ; but would be content, Obstructed else, with merely verse for vent Nor should, for instance, strength an outlet seek And, striving, be admired, nor grace bespeak Wonder, displayed in gracious attitudes ; Nor wisdom, poured forth, change unseemly moods : But he would give and take on song's one point. IF THE WORLD ESTEEM THIS EQUIVALENT. 55 Like some huge throbbing-stone that, poised a-joint Sounds, to affect on its basaltic bed, Must sue in just one accent ; tempests shed Thunder, and raves the landstonn : only let That key by any little noise be set The far benighted hunter's halloo pitch On that, the hungry curlew chance to scritch Or serpent hiss it, rustling through the rift, However loud, however low all lift The groaning monster, stricken to the heart. Lo ye, the world's concernment, for its part, And this, for his, will hardly interfere ! Its businesses in blood and blaze this year But wile the hour away a pastime slight Till he shall step upon the platform : right ! And, now thus much is settled, cast in rough, Proved feasible, be counselled ! thought enough, Slumber, Sordello ! any day will serve : Were it a less digested plan ! how swerve To-morrow ? Meanwhile eat these sun-dried grapes^ And watch the soaring hawk there ! Life escapes Merrily thus. He thoroughly read o'er His truchman Naddo's missive six times more, Praying him visit Mantua and supply A famished world. The evening star was high When he reached Mantua, but his fame arrived Before him : friends applauded, foes connived, 56 HE HAS LOVED HIS SONG'S RESULTS, NOT SONO And Naddo looked an angel, and the rest Angels, and all these angels would be blest Supremely by a song the thrice-renowned Goito manufacture. Then he found (Casting about to satisfy the crowd) That happy vehicle, so late allowed, A sore annoyance : 't was the song's effect He cared for, scarce the song itself: reflect ! In the past life, what might be singing's use ? Just to delight his Delians, whose profuse Praise, not the toilsome process which procured That praise, enticed Apollo : dreams abjured, No over-leaping means for ends take both For granted or take neither ! I am loath To say the rhymes at last were Eglamor's ; But Naddo, chuckling, bade competitors Go pine ; " the master certes meant to waste No effort, cautiously had probed the taste He 'd please anon : true bard, in short, disturb His title if they could ; nor spur nor curb, Fancy nor reason, wanting in him ; whence The staple of his verses, common sense : He built on man's broad nature gift of gifts, That power to build ! The world contented shifts With counterfeits enough, a dreary sort Of warriors, statesmen, ere it can extort [ts poet-soul that 's, after all, a freak (The having eyes to see and tongue to speak) With our herd's stupid sterling happiness SO, MUST EFFECT THIS TO OBTAIN THOSE. 57 So plainly incompatible that yes Yes should a son of his improve the breed And turn out poet, he were cursed indeed ! " " Well, there 's Goito and its woods anon, If the worst happen ; best go stoutly on Now ! " thought Sordello. Ay, and goes on yet 1 You pother with your glossaries to get A notion of the Troubadour's intent In rondel, tenzon, virlai or sirvent Much as you study arras how to twirl His angelot, plaything of page and girl, Once ; but you surely reach, at last, or, no 1 Never quite reach what struck the people so, As from the welter of their time he drew Its elements successively to view, Followed all actions backward on their course, And catching up, unmingled at the source, Such a strength, such a weakness, added then A touch or two, and turned them into men. Virtue took form, nor vice refused a shape ; Here heaven opened, there was hell agape, As Saint this simpered past in sanctity, Sinner the other flared portentous by A greedy people. Then why stop, surprised At his success ? The scheme was realized Too suddenly in one respect : a crowd Praising, eyes quick to see, and lips as loud To speak, delicious homage to receive, 3* o 58 HE SUCCEEDS A LITTLE, BUT FAILS MORE ; The woman's breath to feel upon his sleeve, Who said, " But Anafest why asks he less Than Lucio, in your verses ? how confess, It seemed too much but yestereve ! " the youth, Who bade him earnestly, " Avow the truth ! You love Bianca, surely, from your song ; [ knew I was unworthy ! " soft or strong, In poured such tributes ere he had arranged Ethereal ways to take them, sorted, changed, Digested. Courted thus at unawares, In spite of his pretensions and his cares, He caught himself shamefully hankering After the obvious petty joys that spring From real life, fain relinquish pedestal And condescend with pleasures one and all To be renounced, no doubt ; for, thus to chain Himself to single joys and so refrain From tasting their quintessence, frustrated, sure, His prime design ; each joy must he abjure Even for love of it. He laughed : what sage But perishes if from his magic page He looked because, at the first line, a proof 'T was heard salutes him from the cavern-roof? '' On ! Give yourself, excluding aught beside, To the day's task ; compel your slave provide Its utmost at the soonest ; turn the leaf Thoroughly conned. These lays of yours, in brief Cannot men bear, now, something better ? fly TRIES AGAIN, IS NO BETTER SATISFIED, 59 A pitch beyond this unreal pageantry Of essences ? the period sure has ceased For such : present us with ourselves, at least, Not portions of ourselves, mere loves and hates Made flesh : wait not ! " Awhile the poet waits However. The first trial was enough : He left imagining, to try the stuff That held the imaged thing, and, let it writhe Never so fiercely, scarce allowed a tithe To reach the light his Language. How he sought The cause, conceived a cure, and slow re-wrought That Language, welding words into the crude Mass from the new speech round him, till a rude Armor was hammered out, in time to be Approved beyond the Roman panoply Melted to make it, boots not. This obtained With some ado, no obstacle remained To using it ; accordingly he took An action with its actors, quite forsook Himself to live in each, returned anon With the result a creature, and, by one And one, proceeded leisurely to equip Its limbs in harness of his workmanship. " Accomplished ! Listen, Mantuans ! " Fond essay I Piece after piece that armor broke away, Because perceptions whole, like that he sought To clothe, reject so pure a work of thought As language : thought may take perception's place 60 AND DECLINES FROM THE IDEAL OF SONG But hardly coexist in any case, Being its mere presentment of the whole By parts, the simultaneous and the sole By the successive and the many. Lacks The crowd perception ? painfully it tacks Thought to thought, which Sordello, needing such, Has rent perception into : it 's to clutch And reconstruct his office to diffuse, Destroy : as hard, then, to obtain a Muse As to become Apollo. " For the rest, E'en if some wondrous vehicle exprest The whole dream, what impertinence in me So to express it, who myself can be The dream ! nor, on the other hand, are those I sing to, over-likely to suppose A higher than the highest I present Now, which they praise already : be content Both parties, rather they with the old verse, And I with the old praise far go, fare worse ! " A few adhering rivets loosed, upsprings The angel, sparkles off his mail, and rings Whirled from each delicatest limb it warps, As might Apollo from the sudden corpse Of Hyacinth have cast his luckless quoits. He set to celebrating the exploits Of Montfort o'er the Mountaineers. Then came The world's revenge : their pleasure, now his aim Merely, what was it ? " Not to play the fool WHAT IS THE WORLD'S RECOGNITION WORTH ? 6 So much as learn our lesson in your school ! " Replied the world. He found that, every time He gained applause by any ballad-rhyme, His auditory recognized no jot As he intended, and, mistaking not Him for his meanest hero, ne'er was dunce Sufficient to believe him all, at once. His will . . . conceive it caring for his will I Mantuans, the main of them, admiring still How a mere singer, ugly, stunted, weak, Had Montfort at completely (so to speak) His fingers' ends ; while past the praise-tide swept To Montfort, cither's share distinctly kept : The true meed for true merit ! his abates Into a sort he most repudiates, And on them angrily he turns. Who were The Mantuans, after all, that he should care About their recognition, ay or no ? In spite of the convention months ago, (Why blink the truth ?) was not he forced to help This same ungrateful audience, every whelp Of Naddo's litter, make them pass for peers With the bright band of old Goito years, As erst he toiled for flower or tree ? Why, there Sat Palma ! Adelaide's funereal hair Ennobled the next corner. Ay, he strewed A fairy dust upon that multitude, Although he feigned to take them by themselves ; His giants dignified those puny elves, 62 HOW, POET NO LONGER IN UNITT WITH MAN, Sublimed their faint applause. In short, he found Himself still footing a delusive round, Remote as ever from the self-display He meant to compass, hampered every way By what he hoped assistance. Wherefore then Continue, make believe to find in men A use he found not? Weeks, months, years went by ; And, lo, Sordello vanished utterly, Sundered in twain ; each spectral part at strife With each ; one jarred against another life ; The Poet thwarting hopelessly the Man Who, fooled no longer, free in fancy ran Here, there ; let slip no opportunities As pitiful, forsooth, beside the prize To drop on him some no-time and acquit His constant faith (the Poet-half s to wit That waiving any compromise between No joy and all joy kept the hunger keen Beyond most methods) of incurring scoff From the Man-portion not to be put off With self-reflectings by the Poet's scheme, Though ne'er so bright ; that sauntered forth in dream, Drest any how, nor waited mystic frames, Immeasurable gifts, astounding claims, But just his sorry self who yet might be Sorrier for aught he in reality Achieved, so pinioned That the Poet-part, Fondling, in turn of fancy, verse ; the Art THE WHOLE VISIBLE SORDELLO GOES WBONQ 63 Developing his soul a thousand ways Potent, by its assistance, to amaze The multitude with majesties, convince Each sort of nature, that same nature's prince Accosted it. Language, the makeshift, grew Into a bravest of expedients, too ; Apollo, seemed it now, perverse had thrown Quiver and bow away, the lyre alone Sufficed. While, out of dream, his day's work went To tune a crazy tenzon or sirvent So hampered him the Man-part, thrust to judge Between the bard and the bard's audience, grudge A minute's toil that missed its due reward ! But the complete Sordello, Man and Bard, John's cloud-girt angel, this foot on the land, That on the sea, with open in his hand A bitter-sweetling of a book was gone. And if internal struggles to be one That frittered him incessantly piecemeal, Referred, ne'er so obliquely, to the real Mautuans ! intruding ever with some call To action while he pondered, once for all, Which looked the easier effort to pursue This course, still leap o'er paltry joys, yearn through The present ill-appreciated stage Of self-revealment, and compel the age Know him ; or else, forswearing bard-craft, wake From out his lethargy and nobly shake Off timid habits of denial, mix 64 WITH THOSE TOO HARD FOR HALF OF HIM, With men, enjoy like men. Ere he could fix On aught, in rushed the Mantuans ; much they cared For his perplexity ! Thus unprepared, The obvious if not only shelter lay In deeds, the dull conventions of his day Prescribed the like of him : why not be glad 'T is settled Palma's minstrel, good or bad, Submits to this and that established rule ? Let Vidal change, or any other fool, His murrey-colored robe for philamot, And crop his hair ; too skin-deep, is it not, Such vigor ? Then, a sorrow to the heart, His talk ! Whatever topics they might start, Had to be groped for in his consciousness Straight, and as straight delivered them by guess. Only obliged to ask himself, " What was," A speedy answer followed ; but, alas, One of God's large ones, tardy to condense Itself into a period ; answers whence A tangle of conclusions must be stripped At any risk ere, trim to pattern clipped, They matched rare specimens the Mantuan flock Regaled him with, each talker from his stock Of sorted-o'er opinions, every stage, Juicy in youth or desiccate with age, Fruits like the fig-tree's, rathe-ripe, rotten-rich, Sweet-sour, all tastes to take : a practice which He too had not impossibly attained, Once either of those fancy-flights restrained ; OF WHOM HE IS ALSO TOO CONTEMPTUOUS. 00 For, at conjecture how might words appear To others, playing there what happened here, And occupied abroad by what he spurned At home, 't was slipt, the occasion he returned To seize : he 'd strike that lyre adroitly speech, Would but a twenty-cubit plectre reach ; A clever hand, consummate instrument, Were both brought close ; each excellency went For nothing else. The question Naddo asked, Had just a lifetime moderately tasked To answer, Naddo's fashion. More disgust And more ! why move his soul, since move it must At a minute's notice or as good it failed To move at all ? The end was, he retailed Some ready-made opinion, put to use This quip, that maxim, ventured reproduce Gestures and tones at any folly caught Serving to finish with, nor too much sought If false or true 't was spoken ; praise and blame Of what he said grew pretty well the same Meantime awards to meantime acts : his soul, Unequal to the compassing a whole, Saw, in a tenth part, less and less to strive About. And as for men in turn . . . contrive Who could to take eternal interest In them, so hate the worst, so love the best ! Though, in pursuance of his passive plan, He hailed, decried the proper way. As Man 66 HE PLEASES NETHER HIMSELF NOR THEM. So figured he ; and how as Poet ? Verse Came only not to a stand-still. The worse, That his poor piece of daily work to do Was, not sink under any rivals ; who Loudly and loud enough, without these qualms, Tuned, from Bocafoli's stark-naked psalms, To Plara's sonnets spoilt by toying with, " As knops that stud some almug to the pith Pricked for gum, wry thence, and crinkled worse Than pursed eyelids of a river-horse Sunning himself o' the slime when whirrs the breeze " Gad-fly, that is. He might compete with these ' But but " Observe a pompion-twine afloat ; Pluck me one cup from off the castle-moat ! Along with cup you raise leaf, stalk and root, The entire surface of the pool to boot So could I pluck a cup, put in one song A single sight, did not ray hand, too strong, Twitch in the least the root-strings of the whole. How should externals satisfy my soul ? " " Why that 's precise the error Squarcialupe " (Hazarded Naddo) " finds ; ' the man can't stoop To sing us out,' quoth he, < a mere romance ; He 'd fain do better than the best, enhance The subjects' rarity, work problems out Therewith ' : now, you 're a bard, a bard past doubt, And no philosopher ; why introduce WHICH THE BEST JUDGES ACCOUNT FOB. 67 Crotchets like these ? fine, surely, but no use In poetry which still must be, to strike, Based upon common sense ; there 's nothing like Appealing to our nature ! what beside Was your first poetry ? No tricks were tried In that, no hollow thrills, affected throes ! ' The man,' said we, ' tells his own joys and woes We '11 trust him.' Would you have your songs endure? Build on the human heart ! Why, to be sure Yours is one sort of heart but I mean theirs, Ours, every one's, the healthy heart one cares To build on ! Central peace, mother of strength, That 's father of . . . nay, go yourself that length, Ask those calm-hearted doers what they do When they have got their calm ! And is it true, Fire rankles at the heart of every globe ? Perhaps ! But these are matters one may probe Too deeply for poetic purposes : Rather select a theory that . . . yes, Laugh ! what does that prove ? stations you midway And saves some little o'er-refining. Nay, That 's rank injustice done me ! I restrict The poet ? Don't I hold the poet picked Out of a host of warriors, statesman . . . did I tell you ? Very like ! As well you hid That sense of power, you have ! True bards believe All able to achieve what they achieve That is, just nothing in one point abide Profounder simpletons than all beside. 68 THEIB CRITICISMS GIVE SMALL COMFORT : Oh, ay ! The knowledge that you are a bard Must constitute your prime, nay sole, reward ! " So prattled Naddo, busiest of the tribe Of genius-haunters how shall I describe What grubs or nips, or rubs, or rips your louse For love, your flea for hate, magnanimous, Malignant, Pappacoda, Tagliafer, Picking a sustenance from wear and tear By implements it sedulous employs To undertake, lay down, mete out, o'er-toise Sordello ? Fifty creepers to elude At once ! They settled stanchly ; shame ensued : Behold the monarch of mankind succumb To the last fool who turned him round his thumb, As Naddo styled it ! 'T was not worth oppose The matter of a moment, gainsay those He aimed at getting rid of; better think Their thoughts and speak their speech, secure to slink Back expeditiously to his safe place, And chew the cud what he and what his race Were really, each of them. Yet even this Conformity was partial. He would miss Some point, brought into contact with them ere Assured in what small segment of the sphere Of his existence they attended him ; Whence blunders falsehoods rectify a grim List slur it over ! How ? If dreams were tried, His will swayed sicklily from side to side, Nor merely neutralized bis waking act AND HIS OWN DEGRADATION IS COMPLETE. 69 But tended e'en in fancy to distract The intermediate will, the choice of means. He lost the art of dreaming : Mantuan scenes Supplied a baron, say, he sung before, Handsomely reckless, full to running o'er Of gallantries ; " abjure the soul, content With body, therefore ! " Scarcely had he bent Himself in dream thus low, when matter fast Cried out, he found, for spirit to contrast And task it duly ; by advances slight, The simple stuff becoming composite, Count Lori grew Apollo best recall His fancy ! Then would some rough peasant-Paul, Like those old Ecelin confers with, glance His gay apparel o'er ; that countenance Gathered his shattered fancy into one, And, body clean abolished, soul alone Sufficed the gray Paulician : by and by, To balance the ethereality, Passions were needed ; foiled he sunk again. Meanwhile the world rejoiced ('t is time explain) Because a sudden sickness set it free From Adelaide. Missing the mother-bee, Her mountain-hive Romano swarmed ; at once A rustle-forth of daughters and of sons Blackened the valley. " I am sick too old, Half crazed I think ; what good 's the Kaiser's gold To such an one ? God help me ! for I catch My children's greedy sparkling eyes at watch 70 ADELAIDE'S DEATH ; WHAT HAPPENS ON IT : He bears that double breastplate on, they say, So many minutes less than yesterday ! Beside, Monk Hilary is on his knees Now, sworn to kneel and pray till God shall please Exact a punishment for many things You know, and some you never knew ; which brings To memory, Azzo's sister Beatrix And Ricliard's Giglia are my Alberic's And Ecelin's betrothed ; the Count himself Must get my Palma : Ghibellin and Guelf Mean to embrace each other." So began Romano's missive to his fighting-man Taurello on the Tuscan's death, away With Friedrich sworn to sail from Naples' bay Next month for Syria. Never thunder-chip Out of Vesuvius' throat, like this mishap Startled him. " That accursed Vicenza ! I Absent, and she selects this time to die ! Ho, fellows, for Vicenza ! " Half a score Of horses ridden dead, he stood before Romano in his reeking spurs : too late " Boniface urged me, Este could not wait," The chieftain stammered ; " let me die in peace Forget me ! Was it I e'er craved increase Of rule ? Do you and Friedrich plot your worst Against the Father : as you found me first So leave me now. Forgive me ! Palma, sure, Is at Goito still. Retain that lure Only be pacified ! " AND A TBOUBLE IT OCCASIONS SORDELLO. 71 The country rung With such a piece of news : on every tongue, How Ecelin's great servant, congeed off, Had done a long day's service, so, might doff The green and yellow, and recover breath At Mantua, whither, since Retrude's death, (The girlish slip of a Sicilian bride From Otho's House, he carried to reside At Mantua till the Ferrarese should pile A structure worthy her imperial style, The gardens raise, the statues there enshrine, She never lived to see) although his line Was ancient in her archives and she took A pride in him, that city, nor forsook Her child when he forsook himself and spent A prowess on Romano surely meant For his own growth whither he ne'er resorts If wholly satisfied (to trust reports) With Ecelin. So, forward hi a trice Were shows to greet him. " Take a friend's advice," Quoth Naddo to Sordello, " nor be rash Because your rivals (nothing can abash Some folks) demur that we pronounced you best To sound the great man's welcome ; 't is a test, Remember ! Strojavacca looks asquint, The rough fat sloven ; and there 's plenty hint Your pinions have received of late a shock Out-soar them, cobswan of the silver flock ! Sing well ! " A signal wonder, song 's no whit Facilitated. 72 HE CHANCES UPON HIS OLD ENVIRONMENT, Fast the minutes flit ; Another day, Sordello finds, will bring The soldier, and he cannot choose but uing ; So, a last shift, quits Mantua slow, alone : Out of that aching brain, a very stone, Song must be struck. What occupies that front ? Just how he was more awkward than his wont The night before, when Naddo, who had seen Taurello on his progress, praised the mien For dignity no crosses could affect Such was a joy, and might not he detect A satisfaction if established joys Were proved imposture ? Poetry annoys Its utmost : wherefore fret ? Verses may come Or keep away ! And thus he wandered, dumb Till evening, when he paused, thoroughly spent, On a blind hill-top : down the gorge he went, Yielding himself up as to an embrace. The moon came out ; like features of a face A querulous fraternity of pines, Sad blackthorn clumps, leafless and grovelling vines Also came out, made gradually up The picture ; 't was Goito's mountain-cup And castle. He had dropped through one defile He never dared explore, the Chief erewhile Had vanished by. Back rushed the dream, enwrapped Him wholly. 'T was Apollo now they lapped, Those mountains, not a pettish minstrel meant To wear his soul away in discontent, SEES BUT FAILURE IN ALL DONE SINCE, 73 Brooding on fortune's malice. Heart and brain Swelled ; he expanded to himself again, As some thin seedling spice-tree starved and frail, Pushing between cat's head and ibis' tail Crusted into the porphyry pavement smooth, Suffered remain just as it sprung, to soothe The Soldan's pining daughter, never yet Well in her chilly green-glazed minaret, When rooted up, the sunny day she died, And flung into the common court beside Its parent tree. Come home, Sordello ! Soon Was he low muttering, beneath the moon, Of sorrow saved, of quiet evermore, Since from the purpose, he maintained before, Only resulted wailing and hot tears. Ah, the slim castle ! dwindled of late years, But more mysterious ; gone to ruin trails Of vine through every loop-hole. Naught avails The night as, torch in hand, he must explore The maple chamber did I say, its floor Was made of intersecting cedar beams ? Worn now with gaps so large, there blew cold streams Of air quite from the dungeon ; lay your ear Close and 't is like, one after one, you hear In the blind darkness water drop. The nests And nooks retained their long ranged vesture-chests Empty and smelling ot the iris-root The Tuscan grated o'er them to recruit Her wasted wits. Palma was gone that day, 4 74 AND RESOLVES TO DESIST FROM THE LIKE. Said the remaining women. Last, he lay Beside the Carian group reserved and still. The Body, the Machine for Acting Will, Had been at the commencement proved unfit ; That for Reflecting, Demonstrating it, Mankind no fitter : was the Will Itself In fault ? His forehead pressed the moonlit shelf Beside the youngest marble maid awhile ; Then, raising it, he thought, with a long smile, " I shall be king again ! " as he withdrew The envied scarf; into the font he threw His crown. Next day, no poet ! " Wherefore ? " asked Taurello, when the dance of Jongleurs, masked As devils, ended ; " don't a song come next ? " The master of the pageant looked perplext Till Naddo's whisper came to his relief. " His Highness knew what poets were : in brief, Had not the tetchy race prescriptive right To peevishness, caprice ? or, call it spite, One must receive their nature in its length And breadth, expect the weakness with the strength ! " So phrasing, till, his stock of phrases spent, The easy-natured soldier smiled assent, Settled his portly person, smoothed his chin, And nodded that the bull-bait might begin. BOOK THE THIRD. HATITRE HAT TRIUMPH THEREFORE J the font took them : let our laurels lie ! Braid moonfern now with mystic trifoly Because once more Goito gets, once more, Sordello to itself! A dream is o'er, And the suspended life begins anew ; Quiet those throbbing temples, then, subdue That cheek's distortion ! Nature's strict embrace, Putting aside the Past, shall soon efface Its print as well factitious humors grown Over the true loves, hatreds not his own And turn him pure as some forgotten vest Woven of painted byssus, silkiest Tufting the Tyrrhene whelk's pearl-sheeted lip, Left welter where a trireme let it slip F the sea, and vexed a satrap ; so the stain 0' the world forsakes Sordello, with its pain, Its pleasure : how the tinct loosening escapes, Cloud after cloud ! Mantua's familiar shapes Die, fair and foul die, fading as they flit, Men, women, and the pathos and the wit, Wise speech and foolish, deeds to smile or sigh For, good, bad, seemly or ignoble, die. The last face glances through the eglantines, 76 FOR HER SON, LATELY ALIVE, DIES AGAIN, The last voice murmurs 'twixt the blossomed vines Of Men, of that machine supplied by thought To compass self-perception with, he sought By forcing half himself an insane pulse Of a god's blood, on clay it could convulse, Never transmute on human sights and sounds, To watch the other half with ; irksome bounds It ebbs from to its source, a fountain sealed Forever. Better sure be unrevealed Than part-revealed : Sordello well or ill Is finished : then what further use of Will, A point in the prime idea not realized, An oversight ? inordinately prized, No less, and pampered with enough of each Delight to prove the whole above its reach. * To need become all natures, yet retain The law of my own nature to remain Myself, yet yearn ... as if that chestnut, think, Should yearn for this first larch-bloom crisp and pink, Or those pale fragrant tears where zephyrs stanch March wounds along the fretted pine-tree branch ! Will and the means to show will, great and small, Material, spiritual, abjure them all Save any so distinct, they may be left To amuse, not tempt become ! and, thus bereft, Just as I first was fashioned would I be ! Nor, Moon, is it Apollo now, but me Thou visitest to comfort and befriend ! Swim thou into my heart, and there an end, WAS FOUND AND IS LOST. 77 Since I possess thee ! nay, thus shut mine eyes And know, quite know, by this heart's fall and rise, When thou dost bury thee in clouds, and when Out-standest : wherefore practise upon men To make that plainer to myself?" Slide here Over a sweet and solitary year Wasted : or simply notice change in him How eyes, bright with exploring once, grew dim And satiate with receiving. Some distress Was caused, too, by a sort of consciousness Under the imbecility, naught kept That down ; he slept, but was aware he slept. So, frustrated : as who brainsick made pact Erst with the overhanging cataract To deafen him, yet still distinguished slow His own blood's measured clicking at his brow. To finish. One declining Autumn day Few birds about the heaven chill and gray, No wind that cared trouble the tacit woods He sauntered home complacently, their moods According, his and Nature's. Every spark Of Mantua life was trodden out ; so dark The embers, that the Troubadour, who sung Hundreds of songs, forgot, its trick his tongue, Its craft his brain, how either brought to pass Singing at all ; that faculty might class With any of Apollo's now. The year Began to find its early promise sere 78 BUT NATUBE IS ONE THING, MAN ANOTHER As well. Thus beauty vanishes ; thus stone Outlingers flesh : Nature's and his youth gone, They left the world to you, and wished you joy. When, stopping his benevolent employ, A presage shuddered through the welkin ; harsh The earth's remonstrance followed. 'T was the marsh Gone of a sudden. Mincio, in its place, Laughed, a broad water, in next morning's face, And, where the mists broke up immense and white F the steady wind, burned like a spilth of light Out of the crashing of a myriad stars. And here was Nature, bound by the same bars Of fate with him ! " No ! youth once gone is gone : Deeds let escape are never to be done. Leaf-fall and grass-spring for the year ; for us Oh forfeit I unalterably thus My chance ? nor two lives wait me, this to spend Learning save that ? Nature has time to mend Mistake, she knows occasion will recur Landslip or seabreach, how affects it her With her magnificent resources ? I Must perish once and perish utterly ! Not any strollings now at even-close Down the field-path, Sordello ! by thorn-rows Alive with lamp-flies, swimming spots of fire And dew, outlining the black cypress' spire She waits you at, Elys, who heard you first Woo her, the snow-month through, but ere she durst HAVING MULTIFARIOUS SYMPATHIES, 79 Answer 't was April ! Linden-flower-time-long Her eyes were on the ground ; 't is July, strong Now ; and because white dust-clouds overwhelm The woodside, here or by the village elm That holds the moon, she meets you, somewhat pale, But letting you lift up her coarse flax veil And whisper (the damp little hand hi yours) Of love, heart's love, your heart's love that endures Till death. Tush ! No mad mixing with the rout Of haggard ribalds wandering about The hot torchlit wine-scented island-house Where Friedrich holds his wickedest carouse, Parading, to the gay Palermitans, Soft Messinese, dusk Saracenic clans Nuocera holds, those tall grave dazzling Norse, High-cheeked, lank -haired, toothed whiter than the morse, Queens of the caves of jet stalactites, He sent his barks to fetch through icy seas, The blind night seas without a saving star, And here in snowy birdskin robes they are, Sordello ! here, mollitious alcoves gilt Superb as Byzant domes that devils built ! Ah, Byzant, there again ! no chance to go Ever like august pleasant Dandolo, Worshipping hearts about him for a wall, Conducted, blind eyes, hundred years and all, Tlirough vanquished Byzant where friends note for him What pillar, marble massive, sardius slim, T were fittest he transport to Venice' Square 80 HE MAT NEITHER RENOUNCE NOR SATISFY; Flattered and promised life to touch them there Soon, by his fervid sons of senators ! No more lifes, deaths, loves, hatreds, peaces, wars Ah, fragments of a whole ordained to be ! Points in the life I waited ! what are ye But roundels of a ladder which appeared Awhile the very platform it was reared To lift me on ? that happiness I find Proofs of my faith in, even in the blind Instinct which bade forego you all unless Ye led me past yourselves. Ay, happiness Awaited me ; the way life should be used Was to acquire, and deeds like you conduced To teach it by a self-revealment, deemed The very use, so long ! Whatever seemed Progress to that, was pleasure ; aught that stayed My reaching it no pleasure. I have laid The ladder down ; I climb not ; still, aloft The platform stretches ! Blisses strong and soft, I dared not entertain, elude me ; yet Never of what they promised could I get A glimpse till now ! The common sort, the crowd Exist, perceive ; with Being are endowed, However slight, distinct from what they See, However bounded : Happiness must be, To feed the first by gleanings from the last, Attain its qualities, and slow or fast Become what they behold ; such peace-in-strife By transmutation, is the Use of Life, The Alien turning Native to the soul IN THE PROCESS TO WHICH IS PLEASURE, 81 Or body which instructs me ; I am whole There and demand a Palma ; had the world Been from my soul to a like distance hurled, T were Happiness to make it one with me Whereas I must, ere I begin to Be, Include a world, in flesh, I comprehend In spirit now ; and this done, what 's to blend With ? Naught is Alien in the world my Will Owns all already ; yet can turn it still Less Native, since my Means to correspond With Will are so unworthy, 't was my bond To tread the very joys that tantalize Most now, into a grave, never to rise. I die then ! Will the rest agree to die ? Next Age or no ? Shall its Sordello try Clew after clew, and catch at last the clew I miss ? that 's underneath my finger too, Twice, thrice a day, perhaps, some yearning traced Deeper, some petty consequence embraced Closer ! Why fled I Mantua, then ? complained So much my Will was fettered, yet remained Content within a tether half the range I could assign it ? able to exchange My ignorance (I felt) for knowledge, and [die because I could thus understand Could e'en have penetrated to its core Our mortal mystery, and yet forbore, Preferred elaborate? in the dark My casual stuff, bv any wretched soark 4* 82 WHILE RENUNCIATION INSURES DESPAIR. Born of my predecessors, though one stroke Of mine had brought the flame forth ! Mantua's yoke, My minstrel's-trade, was to behold mankind, My own concernment just to bring my mind Behold, just extricate, for my acquist, Each object suffered stifle in the mist Which hazard, use and blindness could impose In their relation to myself." He rose. The level wind carried above the firs Clouds, the irrevocable travellers, Onward. " Pushed thus into a drowsy copse, Arms twine about my neck, each eyelid drops Under a humid finger ; while there fleets, Outside the screen, a pageant time repeats Never again ! To be deposed immured Clandestinely still petted, still assured To govern were fatiguing work the Sight Fleeting meanwhile ! 'T is noontide : wreak ere night Somehow my will upon it, rather ! Slake This thirst somehow, the poorest impress take That serves ! A blasted bud displays you, torn, Faint rudiments of the full flower unborn ; But who divines what glory coats o'erclasp Of the bulb dormant in the mummy's grasp Taurello sent "... " Taurello ? Palma sent four Trouvere," (iNaudo interposing ie.inv THERE 13 YET A WAT OF ESCAPING THI8 ; 83 Over the lost bard's shoulder) " and, believe, You cannot more reluctantly receive Than I pronounce her message : we depart Together. What avail a poet's heart Verona's pomps and gauds ? five blades of grass Suffice him. News ? Why, where your marish was, On its mud-banks smoke fast rises after smoke F the valley, like a spout of hell new-broke. 0, the world's tidings ! small your thanks, I guess, For them. The father of our Patroness, Has played Taurello an astounding trick, Parts between Ecelin and Alberic His wealth and goes into a convent : both Wed Guelfs : the Count and Palma plighted troth A week since at Verona : and they want You doubtless to contrive the marriage-chant Ere Richard storms Ferrara." Here was told The tale from the beginning how, made bold By Salinguerra's absence, Guelfs had burned And pillaged till he unawares returned To take revenge : how Azzo and his friend Were doing their endeavor, how the end Of the siege was nigh, and how the Count, released From further care, would with his marriage-feast Inaugurate a new and better rule, Absorbing thus Romano. " Shall I school My master," added Naddo, " and suggest How you may clothe in a poetic ~est 84 WHICH HE NOW TAKES BY OBEYING PALMA: These doings, at Verona ? Your response To Palma ! Wherefore jest ? ' Depart at once ? ' A good resolve ! In truth, I hardly hoped So prompt an acquiescence. Have you groped Out wisdom in the wilds here ? Thoughts may be Over-poetical for poetry. Pearl-white, you poets liken Palma's neck ; And yet what spoils an orient like some speck Of genuine white, turning its own white gray ? You take me ? Curse the cicale ! " One more day. One eve appears Verona ! Many a group, (You mind) instructed of the osprey's swoop On lynx and ounce, was gathering Christendom Sure to receive, whate'er the end was, from The evening's purpose cheer or detriment, Since Friedrich only waited some event Like this, of Ghibellins establishing Themselves within Ferrara, ere, as King Of Lombardy, he 'd glad descend there, wage Old warfare with the Pontiff, disengage His barons from the burghers, and restore The rule of Charlemagne, broken of yore By Hildebrand. In the palace, each by each, Sordello sat and Palma : little speech At first in that dim closet, face with face (Despite the tumult in the market-place) Exchanging quick low laughters : now would rush WHO THEREUPON BECOMES HIS ASSOCIATE, 85 Word upon word to meet a sudden flush, A look left off, a shifting lips' surmise But for the most part their two histories Ran best thro' the locked fingers and linked arms. And so the night flew on with its alarms Till in burst one of Palma's retinue ; " Now, Lady ! " gasped he. Then arose the two And leaned into Verona's air, dead-still. A balcony lay black beneath until Out, 'mid a gush of torchfire, gray-haired men Came on it and harangued the people : then Sea-like that people surging to and fro Shoutod, " Hale forth the Carroch trumpets, ho, A flourish ! run it in the ancient grooves Back from the bell ! Hammer ! that whom behooves May hear the League is up ! Peal ! learn who list, Verona means not be the first break tryst To-morrow with the League ! " Enough. Now turn Over the eastern cypresses : discern Is any beacon set a-glimmer ? Rang The air with shouts that overpowered the clang Of the incessant carroch, even : " Haste The Candle 's at the gateway ! ere it waste, Each soldier stand beside it, armed to march With Tiso Sampier through the eastern arch ! * Ferrara 's succored, Palma ! Once again 86 AS HER OWN HISTORY WILL ACCOUNT FOK, They sat together ; some strange thing in train To say, so difficult was Palma's place In taking, with a coy fastidious grace Like the bird's flutter ere it fix and feed. But when she felt she held her friend indeed Safe, she threw back her curls, began implant Her lessons ; telling of another want Gcito's quiet nourished than his own ; Palma to serve, as him be served, alone Importing ; Agnes' milk so neutralized The blood of Ecelin. Nor be surprised If, while Sordello fain had captive led Nature, in dream was Palma wholly subjected To some out-soul, which dawned not though she pined Delaying till its advent, heart and mind, Their life. " How dared I let expand the force Within me, till some out-soul, whose resource It grew for, should direct it ? Every law Of life, its every fitness, every flaw, Must One determine whose corporeal shape Would be no other than the prime escape And revelation to me of a Will Orb-like o'ershrouded and inscrutable Above, save at the point which, I should know, Shone that myself, my powers, might overflow So far, so much ; as now it signified Which earthly shape it henceforth chose my guide, Whose mortal lip selected to declare Its oracles, what fleshly garb would wear ; A REVERSE TO, AND COMPLETION OF, HIS. 87 The first of intimations, whom to love ; The next, how love him. Seemed that orb, above The castle-covert and the mountain-close, Slow in appearing, if beneath it rose Cravings, aversions, did our green precinct Take pride in me, at unawares distinct With this or that endowment, how, represt At once, such jetting power shrunk to the rest ! Was I to have a chance touch spoil me, leave My spirit thence unfitted to receive The consummating spell ? that spell so near Moreover ! ' Waits he not the waking year ? His almond-blossoms must be honey-ripe By this ; to welcome him, fresh runnels stripe The thawed ravines ; because of him, the wind Walks like a herald. I shall surely find Him now ! ' And chief, that earnest April morn Of Richard's Love-court, was it time, so worn And white my cheek, so idly my blood beat, Sitting that morn beside the Lady's feet And saying as she prompted ; till outburst One face from all the faces not then first I knew it ; where in maple chamber glooms, Crowned with what sanguine-heart pomegranate blooms Advanced it ever ? Men's acknowledgment Sanctioned my own : 't was taken, Palma's bent, Sordello, accepted. And the Tuscan dumb 88 HOW SHIi KVKR ASi'lKKD FOR HIS SAKE, Sat scheming, scheming. Ecelin would come Gaunt, scared, ' Cesano baffles me,' he 'd say : Better I fought it out, my father's way ! Strangle Ferrara in its drowning flats, And you and your Taurello yonder what 'a Romano's business there ? ' An hour's concern To cure the fro ward Chief! induced return Much heartened from those overmeaning eyes, Wound up to persevere, his enterprise Marked out anew, its exigent of wit Apportioned, she at liberty to sit And scheme against the next emergence, I To covet her Taurello-sprite, made fly Or fold the wing to con your horoscope For leave command those steely shafts shoot ope, Or straight assuage their blinding eagerness To blank smooth snow. What semblance of success To any of my plans for making you Mine and Romano's ? Break the first wall through, Tread o'er the ruins of the Chief, supplant His sons beside, still, vainest were the vaunt : There, Salinguerra would obstruct me sheer, And the insuperable Tuscan, here, Stayed me ! But one wild eve that Lady died In her lone chamber : only I beside : Taurello far at Naples, and my sire At Padua, Ecelin away in ire With Alberic. She held me thus a clutch To make our spirits as our bodies touch CIRCUMSTANCES HELPING OR HINDERING. 89 And so began flinging the Past up, heaps Of uncouth treasure from their sunless sleeps Within her soul ; deeds rose along with dreams, Fragments of many miserable schemes, Secrets, more secrets, then no, not the last 'Mongst others, like a casual trick o' the Past, How ... ay, she told me, gathering up her face All left of it, into one arch-grimace To die with . . . Friend, 't is gone ! but not the fear Of that fell laughing, heard as now I hear. Nor faltered voice, nor seemed her heart grow weak, When i' the midst abrupt she ceased to speak Dead, as to serve a purpose, mark ! for in Rushed o' the very instant Ecelin (How summoned, who divines ?) looking as if He understood why Adelaide lay stiff Already in my arms ; for, ' Girl, how must I manage Este in the matter thrust Upon me, how unravel your bad coil ? Since ' (he declared) ' 't is on your brow a soil Like hers, there ! ' then in the same breath, ' he lacked No counsel after all, had signed no pact With devils, nor was treason here or there, Goito or Vicenza, his affair : He buried it in Adelaide's deep grave, Would begin life afresh, now, would not slave For any Friedrich's nor Taurello's sake ! W"hat booted him to meddle or to make 90 HOW SUCCESS AT LAST SEEMED POSSIBLE, In Lombardy ? ' And afterward I knew The meaning of his promise to undo All she had done why marriages were made, New friendships entered on, old followers paid "With curses for their pains, new friends' amaze At height, when, passing out by Gate St. Blaise, He stopped short in Vicenza, bent his head Over a friar's neck, 'had vowed,' he said, ' Long since, nigh thirty years, because his wife And child were saved there, to bestow his life On God, his gettings on the Church.' Exiled "Within Goito, still one dream beguiled My days and nights ; t was found, the orb I sought To serve, those glimpses came of Fomalhaut, No other : but how serve it ? authorize You and Romano mingle destinies ? And straight Romano's angel stood beside Me who had else been Boniface's bride, For Salinguerra 't was, with neck low bent, And voice lightened to music, (as he meant To learn not teach me,) who withdrew the pall From the dead Past and straight revived it all, Making me see how first Romano waxed, Wherefore he waned now, why, if I relaxed My grasp (even I !) would drop a thing effete, Frayed by itself, unequal to complete [ts course, and counting every step astray A. gain so much. Romano, every way BY THE INTERVENTION OF SALINGUEREA : 91 Stable, a Lombard House now why start back Into the very outset of its track ? This patching-principle which late allied Our House with other Houses what beside Concerned the apparition, the first Knight Who followed Conrad hither in such plight His utmost wealth was summed in his one steed ? For Ecelo, that prowler, was decreed A task, in the beginning hazardous To him as ever task can be to us ; But did the weather-beaten thief despair When first our crystal cincture of warm air, That binds the Trevisan, as its spice-belt (Crusaders say) the tract where Jesus dwelt, Furtive he pierced, and Este was to face Despaired Saponian strength of Lombard grace? Tried he at making surer aught made sure, Maturing what already was mature ? No ; his heart prompted Ecelo, ' Confront Este, inspect yourself. What 's nature ? Wont. Discard three-parts your nature, and adopt The rest as an advantage ! ' Old strength propped The man who first grew Podesta among The Vincentines, no less than, while there sprung His palace up in Padua like a threat, Their noblest spied a grace, unnoticed yet In Conrad's crew. Thus far the object gained, Romano was established has remained For are you not Italian, truly peers 92 WHO REMEDIED ILL WROUGHT BY ECELIN, With Este ? ' Azzo ' better soothes our ears Than ' Alberic ? ' or is this lion's-crine From over-mounts ' (this yellow hair of mine) ' So weak a graft on Agnes Este's stock ? ' (Thus went he on with something of a mock) ' Wherefore recoil, then, from the very fate Conceded you, refuse to imitate Your model farther ? Este long since left Being mere Este : as a blade its heft, Este required the Pope to further him : And you, the Kaiser whom your father's whim Foregoes or, better, never shall forego If Palma dare pursue what Ecelo Commenced, but Ecelin desists from : just As Adelaide of Susa could intrust Her donative, her Piedmont given the Pope, Her Alpine-pass for him to shut or ope 'Twixt France and Italy, to the superb Matilda's perfecting, so, lest aught curb Our Adelaide's great counter-project for Giving her Trentine to the Emperor With passage here from Germany, shall you Take it, my slender plodding talent, too ! ' Urged me Taurello with his half-smile. He As Patron of the scattered family Conveyed me to his Mantua, kept in bruit Azzo's alliances and Richard's suit Jntil, the Kaiser excommunicate, AND HAD A PROJECT FOR HER OWN GLOBT, 93 Nothing remains,' Taurello said, ' but wait Some rash procedure : Palma was the link, As Agnes' child, between us, and they shrink From losing Palma : judge if we advance, Your father's method, your inheritance ! ' That day I was betrothed to Boniface At Padua by Taurello's self, took place The outrage of the Ferrarese : again, That day I sought Verona with the train Agreeed for, by Taurello's policy Convicting Richard of the fault, since we Were present to annul or to confirm, Richard, whose patience had outstayed its term, Quitted Verona for the siege. And now What glory may engird Bordello's brow Through this ? A month since at Oliero slunk All that was Ecelin into a monk ; But how could Salinguerra so forget His liege of thirty years as grudge even yet One effort to recover him ? He sent Forthwith the tidings of this last event To Ecelin declared that he, despite The recent folly, recognized his right To order Salinguerra : ' Should he wring Its uttermost advantage out, or fling This chance away ? Or were his sons now Head Of the House ? ' Through me Taurello's missive sped ; My father's answer will by me return. 94 WHICH SHK WOULD CHANGE TO BORDELLO'S. Behold ! ' For him,' he writes, ' no more concern With strife than, for his children, with fresh plots Of Friedrich. Old engagements out he blots For aye : Taurello shall no more subserve, Nor Ecelin impose.' Lest this unnerve Taurello at this juncture, slack his grip Of Richard, suffer the occasion slip, I, in his sons' default (who, mating with Este, forsake Romano as the frith Its mainsea for the firmland, sea makes head Against) I stand, Romano, in their stead Assume the station they desert, and give Still, as the Kaiser's representative, Taurello license he demands. Midnight Morning by noon to-morrow, making light Of the League's issue, we, in some gay weed Like yours, disguised together, may precede The arbitrators to Ferrara : reach Him, let Taurello's noble accents teach The rest ! then say if I have misconceived Your destiny, too readily believed The Kaiser's cause your own ! " And Palma 's fled Though no affirmative disturbs the head, A dying lamp-flame sinks and rises o'er, Like the alighted planet Pollux wore, Until, morn breaking, he resolves to be Gate-vein of this heart's blood of Lombardy, Soul of this body to wield this aggregate THUS THEN, HAVING COMPLETED A CIRCLE, 96 Of souls and bodies, and so conquer fate Though he should live a centre of disgust Even apart, core of the outward crust He vivified, assimilated. Thus I bring Sordello to the rapturous Exclaim at the crowd's cry, because one round Of life was quite accomplished ; and he found Not only that a soul, whate'er its might, Is insufficient to its own delight, Both in corporeal organs and in skill By means of such to body forth its Will And, after, insufficient to apprise Men of that Will, oblige them recognize The Hid by the Revealed but that, the last Nor lightest of the struggles overpast, His Will, bade abdicate, which would not void The throne, might sit there, suffer be enjoyed Mankind, a varied and divine array Incapable of homage, the first way, Nor fit to render incidentally Tribute connived at, taken by the by, In joys. If thus with warrant to rescind The ignominious exile of mankind Whose proper service, ascertained intact As yet, (to be by him themselves made act, Not watch Sordello acting each of them) Was to secure if the true diadem Seemed imminent while our Sordello drank The wisdom of that goldeu Palnia, thank 96 THE POET MAY PAUSE AND BREATHE, Verona's Lady in her Citadel Founded by Gaulish Brennus, legends tell : And truly when she left him, the sun reared A head like the first clamberer's that peered A-top the Capitol, his face on flame With triumph, triumphing till Manlius came. Nor slight too much my rhymes that spring, dispread Dispart, disperse, lingering overhead Like an escape of angels ! Rather say, My transcendental platan ! mounting gay (An archimage so courts a novice-queen) With tremulous silvered trunk, whence branches sheen Laugh out, thick-foliaged next, a-shiver soon With colored buds, then glowing like the moon One mild flame, last a pause, a burst, and all Her ivory limbs are smothered by a fall, Bloom-flinders and fruit-sparkles and leaf-dust, Ending the weird work prosecuted just For her amusement ; he decrepit, stark, Dozes ; her uncontrolled delight may mark Apart Yet not so, surely never so ! Only, as good my soul were suffered go O'er the lagune : forth fare thee, put aside Entrance thy synod, as a god may gh'de Out of the world he fills, and leave it mute For myriad ages as we men compute, Returning into it without a break O' the consciousness ! They sleep, and I awake O'er the lagune. BEING REALLY IN THE FLESH AT VENICE, 97 Sordello said once, " Note, In just such songs as Eglamor (say) wrote With heart and soul and strength, for he believed Himself achieving all to be achieved By singer in such songs you find alone Completeness, judge the song and singer one, And cither's purpose answered, his in it Or its in him : while from true works (to wit Sordello's dream-performances that will Be never more than dreamed) escapes there still Some proof, the singer's proper life was 'neath The life his song exhibits, this a sheath To that ; a passion and a knowledge far Transcending these, majestic as they are, Smouldered ; his lay was but an episode In the bard's life : which evidence you owed To some slight weariness, some looking-off Or start-away. The childish skit or scoff In " Charlemagne," (his poem, dreamed divine In every point except one silly line About the restiff daughters !) what may lurk In that ? ' My life commenced before that work, (Thus I interpret the significance Of the bard's start aside and look askance) ' My life continues after : on I fare With no more stopping, possibly, no care To note the undercurrent, the why and how, Where, when, of the deeper life, as thus just now. But, silent, shall I cease to live ? Alas fi a 98 AJ*D WATCHING HIS OWN LIFE SOMETIMES. For you ! who sigh, ' When shall it come to pass We read that story ? How will he compress The future gains, his life's true business, Into the better lay which that one flout, Howe'er inopportune it be, lets out Engrosses him already, though professed To meditate with us eternal rest, And partnership in all his life has found ? 'T is but a sailor's promise, weather-bound : ' Strike sail, slip cable, here the bark be moored For once, the awning stretched, the poles assured ! Noontide above ; except the wave's crisp dash, Or buzz of colibri, or tortoise' splash, The margin 's silent : out with every spoil Made in our tracking, coil by mighty coil, This serpent of a river to his head F tho midst ! Admire each treasure, as we spread The bank, to help us tell our history Aright : give ear, endeavor to descry The groves of giant rushes, how they grew Like demons' endlong tresses we sailed through, What mountains yawned, forests to give us vent Opened, each doleful side, yet on we went Till . . . may that beetle (shake your cap) attest The springing of a land-wind from the West ! ' ' Wherefore ? Ah yes, you frolic it to-day J To-morrow, and the pageant 's moved away Down to the poorest tent-pole : we and you Part company : no other may pursue BECAUSE IT IS PLEASANT TO BE YOUNG, 99 Eastward your voyage, be informed what fate Intends, if triumph or decline await The tempter of the everlasting steppe.' I muse this on a ruined palace-step At Venice : why should I break off, nor sit Longer upon my step, exhaust the fit England gave birth to ? Who 's adorable Enough reclaim a no Sordello's Will Alack ! be queen to me ? That Bassanese Busied among her smoking fruit-boats ? These Perhaps from our delicious Asolo Who twinkle, pigeons o'er the portico Not prettier, bind June lilies into sheaves To deck the bridge-side chapel, dropping leaves Soiled by their own loose gold-meal ? Ah, beneath The cool arch stoops she, brownest-cheek ! Her wreath Endures a month a half-month if I make A queen of her, continue for her sake Sordello's story ? Nay, that Paduan girl Splashes with barer legs where a live whirl In the dead black Giudecca proves sea-weed Drifting has sucked down three, four, all indeed Save one pale-red striped, pale-blue turbaned post For gondolas. You sad dishevelled ghost That pluck at me and point, are you advised [ breathe ? Let stay those girls (e'en her disguised Jewels in the locks that love no crownet like Their native field-buds and the green wheat spike, 100 WOULD BUT SUFFERING HUMAXITT ALLOW ! So fair ! who left this end of June's turmoil, Shook off, as might a lily its gold soil, Pomp', save a foolish gem or two, and free In dream, came join the peasants o'er the sea.) Look they too happy, too tricked out ? Confess There is such niggard stock of happiness To share, that, do one's uttermost, dear wretch, One labors ineffectually to stretch It o'er you so that mother and children, both May equitably flaunt the sumpter-cloth ! Divide the robe yet farther : be content With seeing just a score pre-eminent Through shreds of it, acknowledged happy wights, Engrossing what should furnish all, by rights For, these in evidence, you clearlier claim A like garb for the rest, grace all, the same As these my peasants. I ask youth and strength And health for each of you, not more at length Grown wise, who asked at home that the whole race Might add the spirit's to the body's grace, And all be dizened out as chiefs and bards. But in this magic weather one discards Much old requirement Venice seems a type Of Life, 'twixt blue and blue extends, a stripe, As Life, the somewhat, hangs 'twixt naught and naught 'T is Venice, and 't is Life as good you sought To spare me the Piazza's slippery stone, Or keep me to the unchoked canals alone, A hinder Life the evil with the good WHICH INSTIGATES TO TASKS LIKE THIS, 101 WTrich make up Living, rightly understood. Only, do finish something ! Peasants or queens, Take them, made happy by whatever means, Parade them for the common credit, vouch That a luckless residue, we send to crouch In corners out of sight, was just as framed For happiness, its portion might have claimed As well, and so, obtaining it, had stalked Fastuous as any ! such my project, balked Already ; I hardly venture to adjust The first rags, when you find me. To mistrust Me ! nor unreasonably. You, no doubt, Have the true knack of tiring suitors out With those thin lips on tremble, lashless eyes Inveterately tear-shot there, be wise Mistress of mine, there, there, as if I meant You insult ! Shall your friend (not slave) be shent For speaking home ? Beside, care-bit, erased, Broken-up beauties ever took my taste Supremely, and I love you more, far more Than her I looked should foot Life's temple-floor. Years ago, leagues at distance, when and where A whisper came, " Let others seek ! thy care Is found, thy life's provision ; if thy race Should be thy mistress, and into one face The many faces crowd ? " Ah, had I, judge, Or no, your secret ? Rough apparel grudge All ornaments save tag or tassel worn To hint we are not thoroughly forlorn 102 AND DOUBTLESSLY COMPENSATES THEM. Slouch bonnet, unloop mantle, careless go Alone (that 's saddest but it must be so) Through Venice, sing now and now glance aside, Aught desultory or undignified, Then, ravishingest lady, will you pass Or not each formidable group, the mass Before the Basilic (that feast gone by, God's great day of the Corpus Domini) And, wistfully foregoing proper men, Come timid up to me for alms ? And then The luxury to hesitate, feign do Some unexampled grace ! when, whom but you Dare I bestow your own upon ? And here Further before you say, it is to sneer I call you ravishing ; for I regret Little that she, whose early foot was set Forth as she 'd plant it on a pedestal, Now, i' the silent city, seems to fall Toward me no wreath, only a lip's unrest To quiet, surcharged eyelids to be pressed Dry of their tears upon my bosom. Strange Such sad chance should produce in thee such change, My love ! warped souls and bodies ! yet God spoke Of right-hand, foot and eye selects our yoke, Sordello, as your poetship may find ! So, sleep upon my shoulder, child, nor mind Their foolish talk ; we '11 manage reinstate Your old worth ; ask moreover, when they prate Of evil men past hope, " don't each contrive, AS THOSE WHO DESIST SHOULD REMEMBER. 103 Despite the evil you abuse, to live ? Keeping, each losel, through a maze of lies, His own conceit of truth ? to which he hies By obscure windings, tortuous, if you will, But to himself not inaccessible ; He sees truth, and his lies are for the crowd Who cannot see ; some fancied right allowed His vilest wrong, empowered the fellow clutch One pleasure from a multitude of such Denied him." Then assert, " all men appear To tliink all better than themselves, by here Trusting a crowd they wrong ; but really," say, u All men think all men stupider than they, Since, save themselves, no other comprehends The complicated scheme to make amends Evil, the scheme by which, thro' Ignorance, Good labors to exist." A slight advance, Merely to find the sickness you die through, And naught beside ! but if one can't eschew One's portion in the common lot, at least One can avoid an ignorance increased Tenfold by dealing out hint after hint How naught were like dispensing without stint The water of life so easy to dispense Beside, when one has probed the centre whence Commotion 's born could tell you of it all ! " Meantime, just meditate my madrigal 0' the mugwort that conceals a dew-drop safe ! " VThat, dullard? we and you in smothery chafe, 104 LET THE POET TAKE HIS OWN PART, THEN, Babes, baldheads, stumbled thus far into Zin The Horrid, getting neither out nor in, A hungry sun above us, sands that bung Our throats, each dromedary lolls a tongue, Each camel churns a sick and frothy chap, And you, 'twixt tales of Potiphar's mishap, And sonnets on the earliest ass that spoke, Remark, you wonder any one needs choke With founts about ! Potsherd him, Gibeonites ! While awkwardly enough your Moses smites The rock, though he forego his Promised Land, Thereby, have Satan claim his carcass, and Figure as Metaphysic Poet ... ah Mark ye the dim first oozings ? Meribah ! Then, quaffing at the fount my courage gained, Recall not that I prompt ye who explained . . . " Presumptuous ! " interrupts one. You, not I 'T is, brother, marvel at and magnify Such office : " office," quotha ? can we get To the beginning of the office yet ? What do we here ? simply experiment Each on the other's power and its intent When elsewhere tasked, if this of mine were trucked For yours to cither's good, we watch construct, In short, an engine : with a finished one, What it can do, is all, naught, how 't is done. But this of ours yet in probation, dusk A kernel of strange wheelwork through its husk Grows into shape by quarters and by halves ; SHOULD ANT OBJECT THAT HS WAS DULL 105 Remark this tooth's spring, wonder what that valve's Fall bodes, presume each faculty's device, Make out each other more or less precise The scope of the whole engine 's to be proved ; We die : which means to say, the whole 's removed, Dismounted wheel by wheel, this complex gin, To be set up anew elsewhere, begin A task indeed, but with a clearer clime Than the murk lodgment of our building-time. And then, I grant you, it behooves forget How 't is done all that must amuse us yet So long : and, while you turn upon your heel, Pray that I be not busy slitting steel Or shredding brass, camped on some virgin shore Under a cluster of fresh stars, before I name a tithe o' the wheels I trust to do ! So occupied, then, are we : hitherto, At present, and a weary while to come, The office of ourselves, nor blind nor dumb, And seeing somewhat of man's state, has been, For the worst of us, to say they so have seen ; For the better, what it was they saw ; the best Impart the gift of seeing to the rest : '' So that I glance," says such an one, " around, And there 's no face but I can read profound Disclosures in ; this stands for hope, that fear, And for a speech, a deed in proof, look here ! * Stoop, else the strings of blossom, where the nuts , will blind thee ! said I not ? she shuts 5* 106 BESIDE HIS SPRIGHTLIER PREDECESSORS. Both eyes this time, so close the hazels meet ! Thus, prisoned in the Piombi, I repeat Events one rove occasioned, o'er and o'er, Putting 'twixt me and madness evermore Thy sweet shape, Zanze ! therefore stoop ! ' ' That 's truth ! (Adjudge you) ' the incarcerated youth Would say that ! ' Youth ? Plara the bard ? Set down That Plara spent his youth in a grim town Whose cramped ill-featured streets huddled about The minster for protection, never out Of its black belfry's shade and its bells' roar. The brighter shone the suburb, all the more Ugly and absolute that shade's reproof Of any chance escape of joy, some roof, Taller than they, allowed the rest detect Before the sole permitted laugh (suspect Who could, 'twas meant for laughter, that ploughed check's Repulsive gleam !) when the sun stopped both peaks Of the cleft belfry like a fiery wedge, Then sunk, a hugh flame on its socket's edge, With leavings on the gray glass oriel-pane Ghastly some minutes more. No feur of rain The minster minded that ! in heaps the dust Lay everywhere. This town, the minster's trust, Held Plara ; who, its denizen, bade hail In twice twelve sonnets, Tempe's dewy vale.' * Exact the town, the minster and the street ! ' ONE OUGHT NOT BLAMF BUT PRAISE THIS; 107 ' As all mirth triumphs, sadness means defeat : Lust triumphs and is gay, Love 'a triumphed o'er And sad : but Lucio 's sad. I said before, Love's sad, not Lucio ; one who loves may be As gay his love has leave to hope, as he Downcast that lusts' desire escapes the springe : T is of the mood itself I speak, what tinge Determines it, else colorless, or mirth, Or melancholy, as from heaven or earth.' ' Ay, that 's the variation's gist ! ' Indeed ? Thus far advanced in safety then, proceed ! And having seen too what I saw, be bold And next encounter what I do behold (That 's sure) but bid you take on trust ! Attack The use and purpose of such sights ? Alack, Not so unwisely does the crowd dispense On Salinguerras praise in preference To the Sordellos : men of action, these ! Who, seeing just as little as you please, Yet turn that little to account, engage With, do not gaze at, carry on, a stage, The work o' the world, not merely make report The work existed ere their day ! In short, When at some future no-time a brave band fcjees, using what it sees, then shake my hand In heaven, my brother ! Meanwhile where 's the hurt Of keeping the Makers-see on the alert, At whose defection mortals stare aghast As though heaven's bounteous windows were slammed fast 108 AT ALL EVENTS, HIS OWN AUDIENCE MAY: Incontinent ? whereas all you, beneath, Should scowl at, curse them, bruise lips, break their teeth Who ply the pullies, for neglecting you : And therefore have I moulded, made anew A Man, and give him to be turned and tried, Be angry with or pleased at. On your side, Have ye times, places, actors of your own ? Try them upon Sordello when full-grown, And then ah then ! If Hercules first parched His foot in Egypt only to be marched A sacrifice for Jove with pomp to suit, What chance have I ? The demigod was mute Till, at the altar, where time out of mind Such guests became oblations, chaplets twined His forehead long enough, and he began Slaying the slayers, nor escaped a man. Take not affront, my gentle audience ! whom No Hercules shall make his hecatomb, Believe, nor from his brows your chaplet rend That 's your kind suffrage, yours, my patron-friend, Whose great verse blares unintermittent on Like your own trumpeter at Marathon, You who, Plataeas and Salamis being scant, Put up with JEtna for a stimulant And did well, I acknowledged, as he loomed Over the midland sea last month, presumed Long, lay demolished in the blazing West At eve, while towards him tilting cloudlets prest Like Persian ships at Salamis. Friend, wear WHAT IF THINGS BRIGHTEN, WHO KNOWS? 109 A. crest proud as desert while I declare Had I a flawless ruby fit to wring Tears of its color from that painted king Who lost it, I would, for that smile which went To my heart, fling it in the sea, content, Wearing your verse in place, an amulet Sovereign against all passion, wear and fret ! My English Eyebright, if you are not glad That, as I stopped my task awhile, the sad Disheveled form, wherein I put mankind To come at times and keep my pact in mind, Renewed me, hear no crickets in the hedge, Nor let a glowworm spot the river's edge At home, and may the summer showers gush Without a warning from the missel thrush ! So, to our business, now the fate of such As find our common nature overmuch Despised because restricted and unfit To bear the burden they impose on it Cling when they would discard it ; craving strength To leap from the allotted world, at length They do leap, flounder on without a term, Each a god's germ, doomed to remain a germ In unexpanded infancy, unless . . . But that 's the story dull enough, confess ! There might be fitter subjects to allure ; Still, neither misconceive my portraiture Nor undervalue its adornments quaint : What seems a fiend perchance may prove a saint. 110 WHEREUPON, WITH A STORY TO THE POINT, Ponder a story ancient pens transmit, Then say if you condemn me or acquit. John the Beloved, banished Antioch For Patmos, bade collectively his flock Farewell, but set apart the closing eve To comfort those his exile most would grieve, He knew : a touching spectacle, that house In motion to receive him ! Xanthus' spouse You missed, made panther's meat a month since ; but Xanthus himself (his nephew 't was, they shut 'Twixt boards and sawed asunder) Polycarp, Soft Charicle, next year no wheel could warp To swear by Caesar's fortune, with the rest Were ranged ; thro' whom the gray disciple prest, Busily blessing right and left, just stopt To pat one infant's curls, the hangman cropt Soon after, reached the portal on its hinge The door turns and he enters what quick twinge Ruins the smiling mouth, those wide eyes fix Whereon, why like some spectral candlestick's Branch the disciple's arms ? Dead swooned he, woke Anon, heaved sigh, made shift to gasp, heart-broke, " Get thee behind me, Satan ! have I toiled To no more purpose ? is the gospel foiled Here too, and o'er my son's, my Xanthus' hearth, Portrayed with sooty garb and features swarth Ah Xanthus, am I to thy roof beguiled To see the the the Devil domiciled ? " Whereto sobbed Xanthus, " Father, 't is yourself HE TAKES UP THE THREAD OF DISCOURSE. Ill Installed, a limning which our utmost pelf Went to procure against to-morrow's loss ; And that 's no twy-prong, but a pastoral cross, You 're painted with ! " His puckered brows unfold And you shall hear Bordello's story told. BOOK THE FOURTH. HEN BUFFERED MUCH, MEANTIME Ferrara lay in rueful case ; The lady-city, for whose sole embrace Her pair of suitors struggled, felt their arms A brawny mischief to the fragile charms They tugged for one discovering that to twist Her tresses twice or thrice about his wrist Secured a point of vantage one, how best He 'd parry that by planting in her breast His elbow-spike each party too intent For noticing, howe'er the battle went, The conqueror would but have a corpse to kiss. " May Boniface be duly damned for this ! " Howled some old Ghibellin, as up he turned, From the wet heap of rubbish where they burned His house, a little skull with dazzling teeth : " A boon, sweet Christ let Salinguerra seethe In hell forever, Christ, and let myself Be there to laugh at him ! " moaned some young Guelf Stumbling upon a shrivelled hand nailed fast To the charred lintel of the doorway, last His father stood within to bid him speed. The thoroughfares were overrun with weed Docks, quitohgrass, loathly mallows no man plants. WHICHEVER OF THE PARTIES WAS VICTOR. 113 The stranger, none of its inhabitants Crept out of doors to taste fresh air again, And ask the purpose of a sumptuous train Admitted on a morning ; every town Of the East League was come by envoy down To treat for Richard's ransom : here you saw The Vicentine, here snowy oxen draw The Paduan carroch, its vermilion cross On its white field. A-tiptoe o'er the fosse Looked Legate Montelungo' wistfully After the flock of steeples he might spy In Este's time, gone (doubts he) long ago To mend the ramparts sure the laggards know The Pope 's as good as here ! They paced the streets More soberly. At last, " Taurello greets The League," announced a pursuivant, " will match Its courtesy, and labors to despatch At earliest Tito, Friedrich's Pretor, sent On pressing matters from his post at Trent, With Mainard Count of Tyrol, simply waits Their going to receive the delegates." " Tito ! " Our delegates exchanged a glance, And, keeping the main way, admired askance The lazy engines of outlandish birth, Couched like a king each on its bank of earth Arbalist, manganel, and catapult ; While stationed by, as waiting a result, Lean silent gangs of mercenaries ceased Working to watch the strangers. " This, at least, 114 HOW GUELFS CRITICISE GHIBELLIN WORK Were better spared ; he scarce presumes gainsay The League's decision ! Get our friend away And profit for the future : how else teach Fools 'tis not safe to stray within claw's reach Ere Salinguerra's final gasp be blown ? Those mere convulsive scratches find the bone. Who bade him bloody the spent osprey's nare ? " The carrochs halted in the public square. Pennons of every blazon once a-flaunt, Men prattled, freelier that the crested gaunt White ostrich with a horse-shoe in her beak Was missing, and whoever chose might speak Ecelin boldly out : so, " Ecelin Needed his wife to swallow half the sin And sickens by himself: the Devil's whelp, He styles his son, dwindles away, no help From conserves, your fine triple-curded froth Of virgin's blood, your Venice viper-broth Eh ? Jubilate ! Peace ! no little word You utter here that 's not distinctly heard Up at Oliero : he was absent sick When we besieged Bassano who, i' the thick 0' the work, perceived the progress Azzo made, Like Ecelin, through his witch Adelaide? She managed it so well that, night by night, At their bed-foot stood up a soldier-sprite First fresh, pale by and by without a wound, And, when it came with eyes filmed as in swound, They knew the place was taken. Ominous AS UNUSUALLY ENERGETIC IN THIS CASE. 115 That Ghibellins should get what cautelous Old Redbeard sought from Azzo's sire to wrench Vainly ; Saint George contrived his town a trench 0' the marshes, an impermeable bar. Young Ecelin is meant the tutelar Of Padua, rather ; veins embrace upon His hand like Brenta and Bacchiglion. WTiat now ? The founts ! God's bread, touch not a A crawling hell of carrion every tank [plank . Choke full ! found out just now to Cino's cost The same who gave Taurello up for lost, And, making no account of fortune's freaks, Refused to budge from Padua then, but sneaks Back now with Concorezzi 'faith ! they drag Their carroch to San Vital, plant the flag On his own palace so adroitly razed He knew it not ; a sort of Guelf folk gazed And laughed apart ; Cino disliked their air Must pluck up spirit, show he does not care Seats himself on the tank's edge will begin To hum, za, za, Cavaler Ecelin A silence ; he gets warmer, clinks to chime, Now both feet plough the ground, deeper each time, At last, za, za, and up with a fierce kick Comes his own mother's face caught by the thick Gray hair about his spur ! " Which means, they lift The covering, Salinguerra made a shift To stretch upon the truth ; as well avoid 116 HOW, PASSING THKOUGH THE BARS GARDEN, Further disclosures ; leave them thus employed. Our dropping Autumn morning clears apace, And poor Ferrara puts a softened face On her misfortunes. Let us scale this tall Huge foursquare line of red brick garden-wall Bastioned within hy trees of every sort On three sides, slender, spreading, long and short, Each grew as it contrived, the poplar ramped, The fig-tree reared itself, but stark and cramped, Made fools of, like tamed lions ; whence, on the edge, Running 'twixt trunk and trunk to smooth one ledge Of shade, were shrubs inserted, warp and woof, Which smothered up that variance. Scale the roof Of solid tops, and o'er the slope you slide Down to a grassy space level and wide, Here and there dotted with a tree, but trees Of rarer leaf, each foreigner at ease, Set by itself: and in the centre spreads, Born upon three uneasy leopards' heads, A laver, broad and shallow, one bright spirt Of water bubbles in. The walls begirt With trees leave off on either hand ; pursue Your path along a wondrous avenue Those walls abut on, heaped of gleamy stone, With aloes leering everywhere, gray-grown From many a Moorish summer : how they wind Out of the fissures ! likelier to bind The building than those rusted cramps which drop Already hi the eating sunshine. Stop, SALINGUERRA CONTRIVED FOR A PURPOSE, 117 You fleeting shapes above there ! Ah, the pride Or else despair of the whole country-side A range of statues, swarming o'er with wasps, God, goddess, woman, man, the Greek rough-rasps In crumbling Naples marble ! meant to look Like those Messina marbles Constance took Delight in, or Taurello's self conveyed To Mantua for his mistress, Adelaide, A certain font with caryatides Since cloistered at Goito ; only, these Are up and doing, not abashed, a troop Able to right themselves who see you, stoop 0' the instant after you their arms ! Unplucked By this or that, you pass, for they conduct To terrace raised on terrace, and, between, Creatures of brighter mould and braver mien Than any yet, the choicest of the Isle No doubt Here, left a sullen breathing-while, Up-gathered on himself the Fighter stood For his last fight, and, wiping treacherous blood Out of the eyelids just held ope beneath Those shading fingers in their iron sheath, Steadied his strengths amid the buzz and stir Of the dusk hideous amphitheatre At the announcement of his over-match To wind the day's diversion up, despatch The pertinacious Gaul : while, limbs one heap, The Slave, no breath in her round mouth, watched leap Dart after dart forth, as her hero's car 118 BORDELLO PONDERS ALL SEEN AND HEARD. Clove dizzily the solid of the war Let coil about his knees for pride in him. We reach the farthest terrace, and the grim San Pietro Palace stops us. Such the state Of Salinguerra's plan to emulate Sicilian marvels, that his girlish wife Retrude still might lead her ancient life In her new home whereat enlarged so much Neighbors upon the novel princely touch He took, who here imprisons Boniface. Here must the Envoys come to sue for grace ; And here, emerging from the labyrinth Below, Sordello paused beside the plinth Of the door-pillar. He had really left. Verona for the cornfields (a poor theft From the morass) where Este's camp was made ; The Envoys' march, the Legate's cavalcade All had been seen by him, but scarce as when, Eager for cause to stand aloof from men At every point save the fantastic tie Acknowledged in his boyish sophistry, He made account of such. A crowd, he meant To task the whole of it ; each part's intent Concerned him therefore : and, the more he pried, The less became Sordello satisfied With his own figure at the moment. Sought He respite from his task ? descried he aught FINDS IN MEN NO MACHINE FOR HIS SAKE, 119 Novel in the anticipated sight Of all these livers upon all delight ? This phalanx, as of myriad points combined, Whereby he still had imaged that mankind His youth was passed in dreams of rivalling, His age in plans to prove at least such thing Had been so dreamed, which now he must impress With his own will, effect a happiness By theirs, supply a body to his soul Thence, and become eventually whole With them as he had hoped to be without Made these the mankind he once raved about ? Because a few of them were notable, Should all be figured worthy note ? As well Expect to find Taurello's triple line Of trees a single and prodigious pine. Real pines rose here and there ; but, close among, Thrust into and mixed up with pines, a throng Of shrubs, he saw, a nameless common sort O'erpast in dreams, left out of the report And hurried into corners, or at best Admitted to be fancied like the rest. Reckon that morning's proper chiefs how few I And yet the people grew, the people grew, Grew ever, as if the many there indeed, More left behind and most who should succeed, Simply in virtue of their mouths and eyes, Petty enjoyments and huge miseries, Mingled with, and made veritably great 120 BUT A THING WITH A LITE OF ITS OWN, Those chiefs : he overlooked not Mainard's state Nor Concorezzi's station, but instead Of stopping there, each dwindled to be head Of infinite and absent Tyrolese Or Paduans ; startling all the more, that these Seemed passive and disposed of, uncared for, '* Yet doubtless on the whole " (quoth Eglamor) '* Smiling for if a wealthy man decays And out of store of robes must wear, all days, One tattered suit, alike in sun and shade, 'T is commonly some tarnished gay brocade Fit for a feast-night's flourish and no more : Nor otherwise poor Misery from her store Of looks is fain to upgather, keep unfurled For common wear as she goes through the world, The faint remainder of some worn-out smile Meant for a feast-night's service merely." While Crowd upon crowd rose on Sordello thus, (Crowds no way interfering to discuss, Much less dispute, life's joys with one employed In envying them, or, if they aught enjoyed, Where lingered something indefinable In every look and tone, the mirth as well As woe, that fixed at once his estimate Of the result, their good or bad estate) Old memories returned with new effect : And the new body, ^re he could suspect, Cohered, mankind and he were really fused, The new self seemed impatient to be used AND RIGHTS HITHEBTO IGNORED BY HIM, By him, but utterly another way To that anticipated : strange to say, They were too much below him, more in thrall Than he, the adjunct than the principal. What booted scattered units ? here a mind And there, which might repay his own to find, And stamp, and use ? a few, howe'er august, If all the rest were grovelling in the dust ? No : first a mighty equilibrium, sure, Should he establish, privilege procure For all, the few had long possessed ! he felt An error, an exceeding error melt While he was occupied with Mantuan chants, Behooved him think of men, and take their wanti, Such as he now distinguished every side, As his own want which might be satisfied, And, after that, think of rare qualities Of bis own soul demanding exercise. It followed naturally, through no claim On their part, which made virtue of the aim At serving them, on his, that, past retrieve, He felt now in their toils, theirs nor could leave Wonder how, in the eagerness to rule, Impress his will on mankind, he (the fool !) Had never even entertained the thought That this his last arrangement might be fraught With incidental good to them as well, And that mankind's delight would help to swell His own. So, if he sighed, as formerly 6 121 122 A FAULT HE IS NOVT ANXIOUS TO REPAIR, Because the merry time of life must fleet, T was deeplier now, for could the crowds repeat Their poor experiences ? His hand that shook Was twice to be deplored. " The Legate, look ! With eyes, like fresh-blown thrush-eggs on a thread, Faint-blue and loosely floating in his head, Large tongue, moist open mouth ; and this long while That owner of the idiotic smile Serves them ! " He fortunately saw in time His fault however, and since the office prime Includes the secondary best accept Both offices ; Taurello, its adept, Could teach him the preparatory one, And how to do what he had fancied done Long previously, ere take the greater task. How render first these people happy ? ask The people's friends : for there must be one good, One way to it the Cause ! he understood The meaning now of Palma ; why the jar Else, the ado, the trouble wide and far Of Guelfs and Ghibellins, the Lombard's hope And Rome's despair ? 'twixt Emperor and Pope The confused shifting sort of Eden tale Still hardihood recurring, still to fail That foreign interloping fiend, this free And native overbrooding deity Yet a dire fascination o'er t lie palms The Kaiser ruined, troubling even the calms Of Paradise or, on the other hand, SINCE HE APPREHENDS ITS FULL EXTENT, 123 fie Pontiff, as the Kaisers understand, One snake-like cursed of God to love the ground, Whose heavy length breaks in the noon profound Some saving tree which needs the Kaiser, drest As the dislodging angel of that pest, Then yet that pest bedropt, flat head, full fold, With coruscating dower of dyes. " Behold The secret, so to speak, and master-spring Of the contest ! which of the two Powers shall bring Men good perchance the most good ay, it may Be that ! the question, which best knows the way." And hereupon Count Mainard strutted past Out of San Pietro ; never seemed the last Of archers, slingers : and our friend began To recollect strange modes of serving man Arbalist, catapult, brake, manganel, .And more. " This way of theirs may, who can tell ? Need perfecting," said he : " let all be solved At once ! Taurello 't is, the task devolved On late confront Taurello ! " And at last He did confront him. Scarcely an hour past When forth Sordello came, older by years Than at his entry. Unexampled fears Oppressed him, and he staggered off, blind, mute And deaf, like some fresh-mutilated brute, Into Ferrara not the empty town That morning witnessed : he went up and down Streets whence the veil had been stripped shred by shred 124 AND WOULD FAIN HAVE HELPED SOME WAT, So that, in place of huddling with their dead Indoors, to answer Salinguerra's ends, Its folk made shift to crawl forth, sit like friends With any one. A woman gave him choice Of her two daughters, the infantile voice Or the dimpled knee, for half a chain, his throat Was clasped with ; but an archer knew the coat Its blue cross and eight lilies, bade beware One dogging him hi concert with the pair Though thrumming on the sleeve that hid his knife. Night set in early, autumn dews were rife, They kindled great fires while the Leaguer's mass Began at every carroch he must pass Between the kneeling people. Presently The carroch of Verona caught his eye With purple trappings ; silently he bent Over its fire, when voices violent Began, " Affirm not whom the youth was like That, striking from the porch, I did not strike Again ; I too have chestnut hair ; my kin Hate Azzo and stand up for Ecelin. Here, minstrel, drive bad thoughts away ! sing ! take My glove for guerdon ! " and for that man's sake He turned : " A song of Eglamor's ! " scarce named, When, " Our Sordello's, rather ! " all exclaimed ; w Is not Sordello famousest for rhyme ? " He had been happy to deny, this time, Profess as heretofore the aching head And failing heart, suspect that in his stead BUT SALINGUERRA IS ALSO FEE-OCCUPIED; 125 Some true Apollo had the charge of them, Was champion to reward or to condemn, So his intolerable risk might shift Or share itself; but Naddo's precious gift Of gifts, he owned, be certain ! At the close u I made that," said he to a youth who rose As if to hear : 't was Palma through the band Conducted him in silence by her hand. Back now for Salinguerra. Tito of Trent Gave place to Palma and her friend ; who went In turn at Montelungo's visit one After the other were they come and gone, These spokesmen for the Kaiser and the Pope, This incarnation of the People's hope, Sordello, all the say of each was said, And Salinguerra sat, himself instead Of these to talk with, lingered musing yet. T was a drear vast presence-chamber roughly set In order for the morning's use ; full face, The Kaiser's ominous sign-mark had first place, The crowned grim twy-necked eagle, coarsely blacked With ochre on the naked wall ; nor lacked Romano's green and yellow either side ; But the new token Tito brought had tried The Legate's patience nay, if Palma knew What Salinguerra almost meant to do Until the sight of her restored his lip A. certain half-smile, three months' chieftainship Had banished ! Afterward, the Legate found 126 RESEMBLING SORDELLO IN NOTHING ELSE. No change in him, nor asked what badge he wound And unwound carelessly. Now sat the Chief Silent as when our couple left, whose brief Encounter wrought so opportune effect In thoughts he summoned not, nor would reject. Though time 't was now if ever, to pause fix On any sort of ending : wiles and tricks Exhausted, judge ! his charge, the crazy town, Just managed to be hindered crashing down His last sound troops ranged care observed to post His best of the maimed soldiers innermost So much was plain enough, but somehow struck Him not before. And now with this strange luck Of Tito's news, rewarding his address So well, what thought he of? how the success With Friedrich's rescript there, would either hush Old Ecelin's scruples, bring the manly flush To his young son's white cheek, or, last, exempt Himself from telling what there was to tempt ? No : that this minstrel was Romano's last Servant himself the first ! Could he contrast The whole ! that minstrel's thirty years just spent In doing naught, their notablest event This morning's journey hither, as I told Who yet was lean, outworn and really old, A stammering awkward man that scarce dared raise His eye before the magisterial gaze And Salinguerra with his fears and hopes Of sixty years, his Emperors and Popes, HOW HE WAS MADE IN BODY AND SPIRIT, 127 dares and contrivances, yet, you would say, T was a youth nonchalantly looked away Through the embrasure northward o'er the sick Expostulating trees so agile, quick And graceful turned the head on the broad chest Encased in pliant steel, his constant vest. Whence split the sun off in a spray of fire Across the room ; and, loosened of its tire Of steel, that head let breathe the comely brown Large massive locks discolored as if a crown Encircled them, so frayed the basnet where A sharp white line divided clean the hair ; Glossy above, glossy below, it swept Curling and fine about a brow thus kept Calm, laid coat upon coat, marble and sound : This was the mystic mark the Tuscan found, Mused of, turned over books about. Square-faced, No lion more ; two vivid eyes, enchased In hollows filled with many a shade and streak Settling from the bold nose and bearded cheek ; Nor might the half-smile reach them that deformed A lip supremely perfect else unwarmed, Unwidened, less or more ; indifferent Whether on trees or men his thoughts were bent, Thoughts rarely, after all, in trim and train _ As now a period was fulfilled again ; Of such, a series made his life, compressed In each, one story serving for the rest How his life-streams rolling arrived at last 128 AND WHAT HAD BEEN HIS CAREER OP OLD. At the barrier, whence, were it once overpast, They would emerge, a river io the end, Gathered themselves up, paused, bade fate befriend, Took the leap, hung a minute at the height, Then fell back to oblivion infinite : Therefore he smiled. Beyond stretched garden-ground! Where late the adversary, breaking bounds, Had gained him an occasion, That above, That eagle, testified he could improve Effectually. The Kaiser's symbol lay Beside his rescript, a new badge by way Of baldric ; while, another thing that marred Alike emprise, achievement and reward, Ecelin's missive was conspicuous too. What past life did those flying thoughts pursue ? As his, few names in Mantua half so old ; But at Ferrara, where his sires enrolled It latterly, the Adelardi spared No pains to rival them : both factions shared Ferrara, so that, counted out, 't would yield A product very like the city's shield, Half black and white, or Ghibellin and Guelf, ..is after Salinguerra styled himself And Este who, till Marchesalla died, (Last of the Adelardi) never tried His fortune there : with Marchesalla's child Would pass, could Blacks and Whites be reconciled And young Taurello wed Linguetta, wealth And sway to a sole grasp. Each treats by stealth THE ORIGINAL CHECK TO HIS FORTUNES, 129 Already : when the Guelfs, the Ravennese Arrive, assault the Pietro quarter, seize Linguetta, and are gone ! Men's first dismay Abated somewhat, hurries down, to lay The after indignation, Boniface, This Richard's father. " Learn the full disgrace Averted, ere you blame us Guelfs, who rate Your Salinguerra, your sole potentate That might have been, 'mongst Este's valvassore Ay, Azzo's who, not privy to, abhors Our step but we were zealous." Azzo 's then To do with !' Straight a meeting of old men : " Old Salinguerra dead, his heir a boy, What if we change our ruler and decoy The Lombard Eagle of the azure sphere, With Italy to build in, fix him here, Settle the city's troubles in a trice ? For private wrong, let public good suffice ! " In fine, young Salinguerra's stanchest friends Talked of the townsmen making him amends, Gave him a goshawk, and affirmed there was Rare sport, one morning, over the green grass A mile or so. He sauntered through the plain, Was restless, fell to thinking, turned again In time for Azzo's entry with the bride ; Count Boniface rode smirking at their side : " She bring? him half Ferrara," whispers flew, 1 And all Ancona ! If the stripling knew ! " Anon the stripling was in Sicily 6# , 130 WHICH HE WAS IK THE WAY TO RETRIEVE, Where Heinrich ruled in right of Constance ; he Was gracious nor his guest incapable ; Each understood the other. So it fell, One Spring, when Azzo, thoroughly at ease, Had near forgotten by what precise degrees He crept at first to such a downy seat, The Count trudged over in a special heat To bid him of God's love dislodge from each Of Salmguerra's palaces, a breach Might yawn else, not so readily to shut, For who was just arrived at Mantua but The youngster, sword on thigh, and tuft on chin, With tokens for Celano, Ecelin, Pistore and the like ! Next news, no whit Do any of Ferrara's domes befit His wife of Heinrich's very blood : a band Of foreigners assemble, understand Garden-constructing, level and surround, Build up and buiy in. A last news crowned The consternation : since his infant's birth, He only waits they end his wondrous girth Of trees that link San Pietro with Toma, To visit Mantua. "When the Podesta Ecelin, at Vicenza, called his friend Taurello thither, what could be their end But to restore the Ghibellins' late Head, The Kaiser helping ? He with most to dread From vengeance and reprisal, Azzo, there With Boniface beforehand, as aware WHEN A FRESH CALAMITY DESTROYED ALL. 181 Of plots in progress, gave alarm, expelled Both plotters : but the Guelfs in triumph yelled Too hastily. The burning and the flight, And how Taurello, occupied that night With Ecelin, lost wife and son, I told : Not how he bore the blow, retained his hold, Got friends safe through, left enemies the worst 0' the fray, and hardly seemed to care at first But afterward men heard not constantly Of Salinguerra's House so sure to be ! Though Azzo simply gained by the event A shifting of his plagues the first, content To fall behind the second and estrange So far his nature, suffer such a change That in Romano sought he wife and child, And for Romano's sake seemed reconciled To losing individual life, which shrunk As the other prospered mortised in his trunk ; Like a dwarf palm which wanton Arabs foil Of bearing its own proper wine and oil, By grafting into it the stranger-vine, Which sucks its heart out, sly and serpentine, Till forth one vine-palm feathers to the root, And red drops moisten the insipid fruit. Once Adelaide set on, the subtle mate Of the weak soldier, urged to emulate The Church's valiant women deed for deed, And paragon her namesake, win the meed Of the great Matilda, soon they overbore 132 HE SANK INTO A SECONDARY PERSONAGE, The rest of Lombardy, not as before By an instinctive truculence, but patched The Kaiser's strategy until it matched The Pontiff's, sought old ends by novel means. " Only, why is it Salinguerra screens Himself behind Romano ? him we bade Enjoy our shine i' the front, not seek the shade 1 " Asked Heinrich, somewhat of the tardiest To comprehend. Nor Philip acquiesced At once in the arrangement ; reasoned, plied His friend with offers of another bride, A statelier function fruitlessly : 't was plain Taurello through some weakness must remain Obscure. And Otho, free to judge of both, Ecelin the unready, harsh and loath, And this more plausible and facile wight With every point a-sparkle chose the right, Admiring how his predecessors harped On the wrong man : " thus," quoth he, " wits are warped By outsides ! " Carelessly, meanwhile, his life Suffered its many turns of peace and strife In many lands you hardly could surprise The man ; who shamed Sordello (recognize !) In this as much beside, that, unconcerned What qualities were natural or earned, With no ideal of graces, as they came He took them, singularly well the same Speaking the Greek's own language, just because WITH THE APPROPRIATE GRACES OF SUCH. 133 Your Greek eludes you, leave the least of flaws In contracts with him ; while, since Arab lore Holds the stars' secret take one trouble more And master it ! 'T is done, and now deter Who may the Tuscan, once Jove trined for her, From Friedrich's path ! Friedrich, whose pilgrimage The same man puts aside, whom he '11 engage To leave next year John Brienne in the lurch, Come to Bassano, see Saint Francis' church And judge of Guido the Bolognian's piece Which, lend Taurello credit, rivals Greece Angels, with aureoles like golden quoits Pitched home, applauding Ecelin's exploits. For elegance, he strung the angelot, Made rhymes thereto ; for prowess, clove he not Tiso, last siege, from crest to crupper ? Why Detail you thus a varied mastery But to show how Taurello, on the watch For men, to read their hearts and thereby catch Their capabilities and purposes, Displayed himself so far as displayed these : While our Sordello only cared to know About men as a means whereby he 'd show Himself, and men had much or little worth According as they kept in or drew forth That self; Taurello's choicest instruments Surmised him shallow. Meantime, malecontents Dropped off, town after town grew wiser. u How 134 BUT ECELIN, HE SET IN FRONT, FALLING, Change the world's face ? " asked people ; " as 't is now It has been, will be ever : very fine Subjecting things profane to things divine, In talk ! this contumacy will fatigue The vigilance of Este and the League ! The Ghibellins gain on us ! " as it happed. Old Azzo and old Boniface, entrapped By Ponte Alto, both hi one month's space Slept at Verona : either left a brace Of sons but, three years after, either's pair Lost Guglielm and Aldobrand its heir : Azzo remained and Richard all the stay Of Este and Saint Boniface, at bay As 't were. Then, either Ecelin grew old Or his brain altered not of the proper mould For new appliances his old palm-stock Endured no influx of strange strengths. He 'd rock As in a drunkenness, or chuckle low As proud of the completeness of his woe, Then weep real tears ; now make some mad onslaught On Este, heedless of the lesson taught So painfully, now cringe for peace, sue peace At price of past gain, much more, fresh increase To the fortunes of Romano. Up at last Rose Este, down Romano sank as fast. And men remarked these freaks of peace and war Happened while Salinguerra was afar : Whence every friend besought him, all in vain, To use his old adherent's wits again. 8ALINGUERRA MUST AGAIN COME FORWARD, 135 Not he ! " who had advisers in his sons, Could plot himself, nor needed any one's Advice." 'T was Adelaide's remaining stanch Prevented his destruction root and branch Forthwith ; but when she died, doom fell, for gay He made alliances, gave lands away To whom it pleased accept them, and withdrew Forever from the world. Taurello, who Was summoned to the convent, then refused A word at the wicket, patience thus abused, Promptly threw off alike his imbecile Ally's yoke, and his own frank, foolish smile. Soon a few movements of the happier sort Changed matters, put himself in men's report As heretofore ; he had to fight, beside, And that became him ever. So, in pride And flushing of this kind of second youth, He dealt a good-will blow. Este in truth Lay prone and men remembered, somewhat late, A laughing old outrageous stifled hate He bore to Este how it would outbreak At times spite of disguise, like an earthquake In sunny weather as that noted day When with his hundred friends he tried to slay Azzo before the Kaiser's face : and how, On Azzo's calm refusal to allow A liegeman's challenge, straight he too was calmed As if his hate could bear to lie embalmed, Bricked up, the moody Pharaoh, and survive 136 WHY AND HOW, IS LET ODT IN SOLILOQUY. All intermediate crumblings, and arrive At earth's catastrophe 't was Este's crash Not Azzo's he demanded, so, no rash Procedure ! Este's true antagonist Rose out of Ecelin : all voices whist, All eyes were sharpened, wits predicted. He T was, leaned in the embrasure absently, Amused with his own efforts, now, to trace With his steel-sheathed forefinger Friedrich's face F the dust : but as the trees waved sere, his smile Deepened, and words expressed its thought erewhile, " Ay, fairly housed at last, my old compeer ? That we should stick together, all the year, I kept Verona ! How old Boniface, Old Azzo caught us in its market-place, He by that pillar, I at this, caught each In mid swing, more than fury of his speech, Egging the rabble on to disavow Allegiance to their Marquis Bacchus, how They boasted ! Ecelin must turn their drudge, Nor, if released, will Salinguerra grudge Paying arrears of tribute due long since Bacchus ! My man, could promise then, nor wince, The bones-and-muscles ! sound of wind and limb, Spoke he the set excuse I framed for him : And now he sits me, slavering and mute, Intent on chafing each starved purple foot Benumbed past aching with the altar slab Will no vein throb there when some monk shall blab ECELIN, HE PID ALL FOR, IS A MONK NOW, 137 Spitefully to the circle of bald scalps, ' Friedrich 's affirmed to be our side the Alps ' Eh, brother Lactance, brother Anaclet ? Sworn to abjure the world, its fume and fret, God's own now ? Drop the dormitory bar, Enfold the scanty gray serge scapular Twice o'er the cowl to muffle memories out So ! but the midnight whisper turns a shout, Eyes wink, mouths open, pulses circulate In the stone walls : the Past, the world you hate Is with you, ambush, open field or see The surging flame we fire Vicenza glee ! Follow, let Pilio and Bernardo chafe Bring up the Mantuans through San Biagio safe 1 Ah, the mad people waken ? Ah, they writhe And reach us ? if they block the gate no tithe Can pass keep back, you Bassanese ! the edge, Use the edge shear, thrust, hew, melt down the wedge, Let out the black of those black upturned eyes ! Hell are they sprinkling fire too ? the blood fries And hisses on your brass gloves as they tear Those upturned faces choking with despair. Brave ! Slidder through the reeking gate ' how now ? You six had charge of her ? ' And then the vow Comes, and the foam spirts, hair 's plucked, till one shriek (I hear it) and you fling you cannot speak Your gold-flowered basnet to a man who haled 138 JUST WHEN THE PRIZE AWAITS SOMEBODY The Adelaide he dared scarce view unveiled This morn, naked across the fire : how crown The archer that exhausted lays you down Your infant, smiling at the flame, and dies ? While one, while mine . . . Bacchus ! I think there liea More than one corpse there " (and he paced the room) " Another cinder somewhere 't was my doom Beside, my doom ! If Adelaide is dead I am the same, this Azzo lives instead Of that to me, and we pull, any how, Este into a heap the matter 's now At the true juncture slipping us so oft. Ay, Heinrich died and Otho, please you, doffed His crown at such a juncture ! still, if hold Our Friedrich's purpose, if this chain enfold The neck of ... who but this same Ecelin That must recoil when the best days begin ! Recoil ? that 's naught ; if the recoiler leaves His name for me to fight with, no one grieves ! But he must interfere, forsooth, unlock His cloister to become my stumbling-block Just as of old ! Ay, ay, there 't is again The land's inevitable Head explain The reverences that subject us ! Count These Ecelins now ! not to say as fount, Originating power of thought, from twelve That drop i' the trenches they joined hands to delve, Six shall surpass him, but . . . why, men must twine HIMSELF, IF IT WERE ONLY WORTH WHILE, 139 Somehow with something ! Ecelin 's a fine Gear name ! 'T were simpler, doubtless, twine with me At once : our cloistered friend's capacity Was of a sort ! I had to share myself In fifty portions, like an o'ertasked elf That 's forced illume in fifty points the vast Rare vapor he 's environed by. At last My strengths, though sorely frittered, e'en converge And crown . . . no, Bacchus, they have yet to urge The man be crowned ! That aloe, an he durst, "Would climb ! just such a bloated sprawler first I noted in Messina's castle-court The day I came, when Heinrich asked in sport If I would pledge my faith to win him back His right in Lombardy : ' for, once bid pack Marauders,' he continued, ' in my stead You rule, Taurello ! ' and upon this head Laid the silk glove of Constance I see her Too, mantled head to foot in miniver, Retrude following ! I am absolved From further toil : the empery devolved On me, 't was Tito's word : I have to lay For once my plan, pursue my plan my way, Prompt nobody, and render an account Taurello to Taurello ! nay, I mount To Friedrich he conceives the post I kept, did true service, able or inept, 140 AS IT MAY BE BUT ALSO, AS IT MAT NOT BE Who 's worthy guerdon, Ecelin or I. Me guerdoned, counsel follows ; would he vie With the Pope really ? Azzo, Boniface Compose a right-arm Hohenstauffen's race Must break ere govern Lombardy. I point How easy 't were to twist, once out of joint, The socket from the bone : my Azzo's stare Meanwhile ! for I, this idle strap to wear, Shall fret myself abundantly, what end To serve ? There 's left me twenty years to spend How better than my old way ? Had I one Who labored overthrow my work a son Hatching with Azzo superb treachery, To root my pines up and then poison me, Suppose 't were worth while frustrate that ! Beside, Another life 's ordained me : the world's tide Rolls, and what hope of parting from the press Of waves, a single wave through weariness Gently lifted aside, laid upon shore ? My life must be lived out in foam and roar, No question. Fifty years the province held Taurello ; troubles raised, and troubles quelled, He in the midst who leaves this quaint stone place, These trees a year or two, then, not a trace Of him ! How obtain hold, fetter men's tongues Like this poor minstrel with the foolish songs To which, despite our bustle, he is linked ? Flowers one may tease, that never grow extinct. A.y, that patch, surely, green as ever, where THE SUPPOSITION HE MOST INCLINES TO ; 141 I set Her Moorish lentisk, by the stair, To overawe the aloes ; and we trod Those flowers, how call you such ? into the sod ; A stately foreigner a world of pain To make it thrive, arrest rough winds all vain ! It would decline ; these would not be destroyed : And now, where is it? where can you avoid The flowers ? I frighten children twenty years Longer ! which way, too, Ecelin appears To thwart me, for his son's besotted youth Gives promise of the proper tiger-tooth : They feel it at Vicenza ! Fate, fate, fate, My fine Taurello ! go you, promulgate Friedrich's decree, and here 's shall aggrandize Young Ecelin your Prefect's badge ! a prize Too precious, certainly. How now ? Compete With my old comrade ? shuffle from their seat His children ? Paltry dealing ! Don't I know Ecelin ? now, I think, and years ago ! What 's changed the weakness ? did not I compound For that, and undertake to keep him sound Despite it ? Here 's Taurello hankering After a boy's preferment this plaything To carry, Bacchus ! " And he laughed. Eemark Why schemes wherein cold-blooded men embark Prosper, when your enthusiastic sort Fail : while these last are ever stopping short 142 BEING CONTENTED WITH MERE VENGEANCE. (So much they should so little they can do !) The careless tribe see nothing to pursue If they desist ; meantime their scheme succeeds. Thoughts were caprices in the course of deeds Methodic with Taurello ; so, he turned, Enough amused by fancies fairly earned Of Este's horror-struck submitted neck, And Richard, the cowed braggart, at his beck, To his own petty but immediate doubt If he could pacify the League without Conceding Richard ; just to this was brought That interval of vain discursive thought ! As, shall I say, some Ethiop, past pursuit Of all enslavers, dips a shackled foot Burnt to the blood, into the drowsy black Enormous watercourse which guides him back To his own tribe again, where he is king ; And laughs because he guesses, numbering The yellower poison-wattles on the pouch Of the first lizard wrested from its couch Under the slime (whose skin, the while, he strips To cure his nostril with, and festered lips, And eyeballs bloodshot through the desert blast) That he has reached its boundary, at last May breathe; thinks o'er enchantments of the South Sovereign to plague his enemies, their mouth, Eyes, nails, and hair ; but, these enchantments tried In fancy, puts them soberly aside For truth, projects a cool return with friends, BORDELLO, TAUGHr WHAT GHIBELL1KS Alii., lio The likelihood of winning mere amends Erelong; thinks that, takes comfort silently, Then, from the river's brink, his wrongs and he, Hugging revenge close to their hearts, are soon Off-striding for the Mountains of the Moon. Midnight : the watcher nodded on his spear, Since clouds dispersing left a passage clear, For any meagre and discolored moon To venture forth ; and such was peering soon Above the harassed city her close lanes Closer, not half so tapering her fanes, As though she shrunk into herself to keep What little life was saved, more safely. Heap By heap the watch-fires mouldered, and beside The blackest spoke Sordello and replied Palma with none to listen. " 'T is your Cause : What makes a Ghibellin ? There should be laws (Remember how my youth escaped ! I trust To you for manhood, Palma ; tell me just As any child) there must be laws at work Explaining this. Assure me, good may lurk Under the bad, my multitude has part In your designs, their welfare is at heart With Salinguerra, to their interest Refer the deeds he dwelt on, so divest Our conference of much thai, scared me. Why Affect that heartless tone to Tito ? I Esteemed myself, yes, in my inmost mind This morn, a recreant to my race mankind 144 AND WHAT GUELFS, APPROVES OF NEITHER. O'erlooked till now : why boast my spirit's force, Such force denied its object ? why divorce These, then admire my spirit's flight the same As though it bore up, helped some half-orbed flame Else quenched in the dead void, to living space ? That orb cast off to chaos and disgrace, Why vaunt so much my unincumbered dance, Making a feat's facilities enhance Its marvel ? But I front Taurello, one Of happier fate, and all I should have done, He does ; the people's good being paramount With him, their progress may perhaps account For his abiding still : whereas you heard The talk with Tito the excuse preferred For burning those five hostages, and broached By way of blind, as you and I approached, I do believe." She spoke : then he, " My thought Plainlier expressed ! All to your profit naught Meantime of these, of conquests to achieve For them, of wretchedness he might relieve While profiting your party. Azzo, too, Supports a cause : what cause ? Do Guelfs pursue Their ends by means like yours, or better ? " When The Guelfs were proved alike, men weighed with men, And deed with deed, blaze, blood, with blood and blaze. Morn broke : " Once more, Sordello, meet its gaze Proudly the people's charge against thee fails HAVE MEN A CAUSE DISTINCT FliOM BOTH? 14ft In every point, while either party quails ! These are the busy ones be silent thou ! Two parties take the world up, and allow No third, yet have one principle, subsist By the same injustice ; whoso shall enlist With either, ranks with man's inveterate foes. So there is one less quarrel to compose : The Guelf, the Ghibellin may be to curse I have done nothing, but both sides do worse Than nothing. Nay, to me, forgotten, reft Of insight, lapped by trees and flowers, was left The notion of a service ha ? What lured Me here, what mighty aim was I assured Must move Taurello ? What if there remained A Cause, intact, distinct from these, ordained, For me, its true discoverer ? " Some one pressed Before them here, a watcher, to suggest The subject for a ballad : " They must know The tale of the dead worthy, long ago Consul of Rome that 's long ago for us, Minstrels and bowmen, idly squabbling thus In the world's corner but too late, no doubt, For the brave time he sought to bring about. Not know Crescentius Nomentanus ? " Then He cast about for terms to tell him, when Sordello disavowed it, how they used Whenever their Superior introduced A novice to the Brotherhood (" for I 7 i 146 WHO WAS THE FAMED ROMAN CRESCENTIUS ? Was just a brown-sleeve brother, merrily Appointed too," quoth he, " till Innocent Bade me relinquish, to my small content, My wife or my brown sleeves ") some brother spoke Ere nocturns of Crescentius, to revoke The edict issued, after his demise, Which blotted fame alike and effigies, All out except a floating power, a name Including, tending to produce the same Great act Rome, dead, forgotten, lived at least Within that brain, though to a vulgar priest And a vile stranger, two not worth a slave Of Rome's, Pope John, King Otho, fortune gave The rule there : so, Crescentius, haply drest In white, called Roman Consul for a jest, Taking the people at their word, forth stept As upon Brutus' heel, nor ever kept Rome waiting, stood erect, and from his brain Gave Rome out on its ancient place again, Ay, bade proceed with Brutus' Rome, kings styled Themselves mere citizens of, and, beguiled Into great thoughts thereby, would choose the gem Out of a lapful, spoil their diadem The Senate's cipher was so hard to scratch ! He flashes like a phanal, all men catch The flame, Rome's just accomplished ! when returned Otho, with John, the Consul's step had spurned, And Hugo Lord of Este, to redress The wrongs of each. Crescentius in the stress HOW IF, IN THE RE-INTEGRATION OF ROME, 147 Of adverse fortune bent. " They crucified Their Consul in the Forum, and abide E'er since such slaves at Rome, that I (for I Was once a brown-sleeve brother, merrily Appointed) I had option to keep wife Or keep brown sleeves, and managed in the strife Lose both. A song of Rome ! " And Rome, indeed, Robed at Goito in fantastic weed, The Mother-City of his Mantuan days, Looked an established point of light whence rays Traversed the world ; for, all the clustered homes Beside of men, seemed bent on being Romes In their degree ; the question was, how each Should most resemble Rome, clean out of reach. Nor, of the great Two, either principle, Struggled to change but to possess Rome, still, Guelf Rome or Ghibellin Rome. Let Rome advance ! Rome, as she struck Sordello's ignorance How could he doubt one moment ? Rome 's the Cause 1 Rome of the Pandects, all the world's new laws Of the Capitol, of Castle Angelo ; New structures, that inordinately glow, Subdued, brought back to harmony, made ripe By many a relic of the archetype Extant for wonder ; every upstart church That hoped to leave old temples in the lurch, Corrected by the Theatre forlorn 148 BE TYPIFIED THE TRIUMPH OF MANKIND? That, as a mundane shell, its world late born, Lay and o'ershadowed it. These hints combined, Rome typifies the scheme to put mankind Once more in full possession of their rights. u Let us have Rome again ! On me it lights To build up Rome on me, the first and last : For such a Future was endured the Past ! " And thus, in the gray twilight, forth he sprung To give his thought consistency among The very People let their facts avail Finish the dream grown from the archer's tale. BOOK THE FIFTH. MANKIND TRIUMPH OP A 8UDDBH t Is it the same Sordello in the dusk As at the dawn ? merely a perished husk Now, that arose a power fit to build Up Rome again ? The proud conception chilled So soon ? Ay, watch that latest dream of thine A Rome indebted to no Palatine, Drop arch by arch, Sordello ! Art possest Of thy wish now rewarded for thy quest To-day among Ferrara's squalid sons Are this and this and this the shining ones Meet for the Shining City ? Sooth to say, Your favored tenantry pursue their way After a fashion ! This companion slips On the smooth causey, t' other blinkard trips At his mooned sandal. " Leave to lead the brawls Here i' the atria ? " No, friend ! He that sprawls On aught but a stibadium . . what his dues Who puts the lustral vase to such an use ? 0, huddle up the day's disasters ! March, Ye runagates, and drop thou, arch by arch, Rome! Yet before they quite disband a whim- Study mere shelter, now, for him, and him, 150 WHY, THE WORK SHOULD BE ONE OF AGES, Nay, even the worst, just house them ! Any cave Suffices : throw out earth ! A loophole ? Brave ! They ask to feel the sun shine, see the grass Grow, hear the larks sing ? Dead art thou, alas, And I am dead ! But here 's our son excels At hurdle-weaving any Scythian, fells Oak and devises rafters, dreams and shapes His dream into a door-post, just escapes The mystery of hinges. Lie we both Perdue another age. The goodly growth Of brick and stone ! Our building-pelt was rough, But that descendant's garb suits well enough A portico-contriver. Speed the years What 's time to us ? at last, a city rears Itself ! nay, enter what 's the grave to us ? Lo, our forlorn acquaintance carry thus The head ! Successively sewer, forum, cirque Last age, an aqueduct was counted work, But now they tire the artificer upon Blank alabaster, black obsidian, Careful, Jove's face be duly fulgurant, And mother Venus' kiss-creased nipples pant Back into pristine pulpiness, ere fixed Above the baths. What difference betwixt This Rome and ours resemblance what, between That scurvy dumb-show and this pageant sheen These Romans and our rabble ? Use thy wit ! The work marched : step by step, a workman fit Took each, nor too fit, to one task, one time, IF PERFORMED EQUALLY AND THOROUGHLY; 151 No leaping o'er the petty to the prime, When just the substituting osier lithe For brittle bulrush, sound wood for soft withe, To further loam-and-roughcast-work a stage, Exacts an architect, exacts an age : No tables of the Mauritanian tree For men whose maple-log 's their luxury ! That way was Rome built "Better" (say you) " merge At once all workmen in the demiurge, All epochs in a lifetime, every task In one ! " So should the sudden city bask I' the day while those we 'd feast there, want the knack Of keeping fresh-chalked gowns from speck and brack, Distinguish not rare peacock from vile swan, Nor Mareotic juice from Crecuban. " Enough of Rome ! 'T was happy to conceive Rome on a sudden, nor shall fate bereave Me of that credit : for the rest, her spite Is an old story serves my folly right By adding yet another to the dull List of abortions things proved beautiful Could they be done, jSordello cannot do." He sat upon the terrace, plucked and threw The powdery aloe-cusps away, saw shift Rome's walls, and drop arch after arch, and drift Mist-like afar those pillars of all stripe, Mounds of all majesty. " Thou archetype, Last of my dreams and loveliest, depart ! " 152 AND A MAN CAN BUT DO A MAN'S PORTION. And then a low voice wound into his heart : " Sordello ! " (low as some old Pythoness Conceding to a Lydian King's distress The cause of his long error one mistake Of her past oracle) " Sordello, wake ! God has conceded two sights to a man One, of men's whole work, time's completed plan, The other, of the minute's work, man's first Step to the plan's completeness : what 's dispersed Save hope of that supreme step which, descried Earliest, was meant still to remain untried Only to give you heart to take your own Step, and there stay leaving the rest alone ? Where is the vanity ? Why count as one The first step, with the last step ? What is gone .Except Rome's aery magnificence, That last step you 'd take fii-st ? an evidence You were God : be man now ! Let those glances fall ! The basis, the beginning step of all, Which proves you just a man is that gone too ? Pity to disconcert one versed as you In fate's ill-nature ! but its full extent Eludes Sordello, even : the veil rent, Read the black writing that collective man Outstrips the individual ! Who began The acknowledged greatnesses ? Ay, your own art Shall serve us : put the poet's mimes apart Close with the poet's self, and lo, a dim Y^et too plain form divides itself from him ! THE LAST OF EACH SERIES OF WORKMEN 153 Alcamo's song enmeshes the lulled Isle, Woven into the echoes left erewhile By Nina, one soft web of song: no more Turning his name, then, flower-like o'er and o'er ! An elder poet in the younger's place Nina's the strength but Alcamo's the grace : Each neutralizes each then ! . Search your fill ; You get no whole and perfect Poet still New Ninas, Alcamos, till time's midnight Shrouds all or better say, the shutting light Of a forgotten yesterday. Dissect Every ideal workman (to reject In favor of your fearful ignorance The thousand phantasms eager to advance, And point you but to those within your reach) Were you the first who brought (in modern speech) The Multitude to be "niaterialized ? That loose eternal unrest who devised An apparition i' the midst ? The rout Was checked, a breathless ring was formed about That sudden flower : get round at any risk The gold-rough pointel, silver-blazing disk O' the lily ! Swords across it ! Reign thy reign And serve thy frolic service, Charlemagne ! The very child of over-joyousness, Unfeeling thence, strong tl .erefore : Strength by stress Of Strength comes of that forehead confident, Those widened eyes expecting heart's content, A calm as out of just-quelled noise ; nor swerves 154 SUMS UP IN HIMSELF ALL PREDECESSORS. For doubt, the ample cheek in gracious curves Abutting on the upthrust nether lip : He wills, how should he doubt then ? Ages slip : Was it Sordello pried into the work So far accomplished, and discovered lurk A company amid the other clans, Only distinct in priests for castellans And popes for suzerains (their rule confessed Its rule, their interest its interest, Living for sake of living there an end, Wrapt in itself, no energy to spend In making adversaries or allies), Dived you into its capabilities And dared create, out of that sect, a soul Should turn the multitude, already whole, Into its body ? Speak plainer ! Is 't so sure God's church lives by a King's investiture ? Look to last step ! a staggering a shock What 's mere sand is demolished, while the rock Endures : a column of black fiery dust Blots heaven that help was prematurely thrust Aside, perchance ! but the air clears, naught 's erased Of the true outline ! Thus much being firm based, The other was a scaffold. See him stand Buttressed upon his mattock, Hildebrand Of the hugh brain-mask welded ply o'er ply As in a forge ; it buries either eye White and extinct, that stupid brow ; teeth clenched, The neck tight-corded, too, the chin deep-trenched, WE JUST SEE CHABLEMAGNE, HILDEBRAND, 155 A.8 if a cloud enveloped him while fought Under its shade, griin prizers, thought with thought At dead-lock, agonizing he, until The victor thought leapt radiant up, and Will, The slave with folded arms and drooping lids They fought for, lean forth flame-like as it bids. Call him no flower a mandrake of the earth, Thwarted and dwarfed and blasted in its birth, Rather, a fruit of suffering's excess, Thence feeling, therefore stronger : still by stress Of Strength, work Knowledge ! Full three hundred years Have men to wear away in smiles and tears Between the two that nearly seem to touch, Observe you ! quit one workman and you clutch Another, letting both their trains go by The actors-out of cither's policy, Heinrich, on this hand, Otho, Barbaross, Carry the three Imperial crowns across, Aix' Iron, Milan's Silver, and Rome's Gold While Alexander, Innocent uphold On that, each Papal key but, link on link, Why is it neither chain betrays a chink ? How coalesce the small and great ? Alack, For one thrust forward, fifty such fall back I Do the popes coupled there help Gregory Alone ? Hark from the hermit Peter's cry At Claremont, down to the first serf that says Friedrich 's no liege of his while he delays Getting the Pope's curse off him ! The Crusade 156 IN COMPOSITE WORK THEY END AND NAME. Or trick of breeding strength by other aid Than strength, is safe. Hark from the wild harangue Of Vimmercato, to the carroch's clang Yonder ! The League or trick of turning strength Against pernicious strength, is safe at length. Yet hark from Mantuan Albert making cease The fierce ones, to Saint Francis preaching peace Yonder ! God's Truce or trick to supersede The very use of strength, is safe. Indeed We trench upon the Future ! Who is found To take next step, next age trail o'er the ground Shall I say, gourd-like ? not the flower's display Nor the root's prowess, but the plenteous way O' the plant produced by joy and sorrow, whence Unfeeling and yet feeling, strongest thence ? Knowledge by stress of merely Knowledge ? No E'en were Sordello ready to forego His life for this, 't were overleaping work Some one has first to do, howe'er it irk, Nor stray a foot's breadth from the beaten road. Who means to help must still support the load Hildebrand lifted ' why hast Thou,' he groaned r ' Imposed on me a burden, Paul had moaned, And Moses dropped beneath ? ' Much done and yet Doubtless, that grandest task God ever set On man, left much to do : at his arm's wrench, Charlemagne's scaffold fell ; but pillars blench Merely, start back again perchance have been Taken for buttresses : crash every screen, IF ASSOCIATES TROUBLE YOU, STAND OFF! 157 Hammer the tenons better, and engage A gang about your work, for the next age Or two, of Knowledge, part by Strength and part By Knowledge ! Then, indeed, perchance may start Sordello on his race would time divulge Such secrets ! If one step 's awry, one bulge Calls for correction by a step we thought Got over long since, why, till that is wrought, No progress ! and the scaffold in its turn Becomes, its service o'er, a thing to spurn. Meanwhile, if your half-dozen years of life In store, dispose you to forego the strife, Who takes exception ? Only bear in mind, Ferrara 's reached, Goito 's left behind : As you then were, as half yourself, desist ! The warrior-part of you may, an it list, Ending real faulchions difficult to poise, Fling tnem afar and taste the cream of joys By wielding such in fancy, what is bard Of you, may spurn the vehicle that marred Elys so much, and in free fancy glut His sense, yet write no verses you have but To please yourself for law, and once could please What once appeared yourself, by dreaming these Rather than doing these, in days gone by. But all is changed the moment you descry Mankind as half yourself, then, fancy's trade Ends once and always : how may half evade The other half? men are found half of you. 158 SHOULD THE NEW SYMPATHIES ALLOW YOU Out of a thousand helps, just one or two Can be accomplished presently : but flinch From these (as from the faulchion, raised an inch, Elys, described a couplet) and make proof Of fancy, then, while one half lolls aloof F the vines, completing Rome to the tip-top See if, for that, your other half will stop A tear, begin a smile ! The rabble's woes, Ludicrous in their patience as they chose To sit about their town and quietly Be slaughtered, the poor reckless soldiery, With their ignoble rhymes on Richard, how ' Polt-foot,' sang they, ' was in a pitfall now,' Cheering each other from the engine-mounts, That crippled spawling idiot who recounts How, lopt of limbs, he lay, stupid as stone, Till the pains crept from out him one by one, And wriggles round the archers on his head To earn a morsel of their chestnut bread, And Cino, always in the selfsame place Weeping ; beside that other wretch's case, Eyepits to ear, one gangrene since he plied The engine in his coat of raw sheep's hide A double watch in the noon sun ; and see Lucchino, beauty, with the favors free, Trim hacqueton, spruce beard and scented hair, Campaigning it for the first time cut there In two already, boy enough to crawl For latter orpine round the southern wall, TIME HAVING BEEN LOST, CHOOSE QUICK ! 159 Toma, where Richard 'a kept, because that whore Marfisa, the fool never saw before, Sickened for flowers this wearisomest siege : And Tiso's wife men liked their pretty liege, Cared for her least of whims once, Berta, wed A twelvemonth gone, and, now poor Tiso 's dead, Delivering herself of his first child On that chance heap of wet filth, reconciled To fifty gazers ! " (Here a wind below Made moody music augural of woe From the pine barrier) " What if, now the scene Draws to a close, yourself have really been You, plucking purples in Goito's moss Like edges of a trabea (not to cross Your consul-humor) or dry aloe-shafts For fasces, at Ferrara he, fate wafts, This very age, her whole inheritance Of opportunities ? Yet you advance Upon the last ! Since talking is your trade, There 's Salinguerra left you to persuade : Fail! then" " No no which latest chance secure I * Leapt up and cried Sordello : " this made sure, The Past were yet redeemable ; its work Was holp the Guelfs, whom I, howe'er it irk, Thus help ! " He shook the foolish aloe-haulm Out of his doublet, paused, proceeded calm To the appointed presence. The large head Turned on its socket ; " And your spokesman," said 160 HE TAKES HIS FIRST STEP AS A GUELF; 4 The large voice, " is Elcorte's happy sprout ? Few such " (so finishing a speech no doubt Addressed to Palma, silent at his side) " My sober councils have diversified. Elcorte's son ! good : forward as you may, Our lady's minstrel with so much to say ! " The hesitating sunset floated back, Rosily traversed in the wonted track The chamber, from the lattice o'er the girth Of pines, to the huge eagle blacked in earth Opposite, outlined sudden, spur to crest, That solid Salinguerra, and caressed Palma's contour ; 't was Day looped back Night's pall Sordello had a chance left spite of all. And much he made of the convincing speech He meant should compensate the Past and reach Through his youth's daybreak of unprofit, quite To his noon's labor, so proceed till night Leisurely ! The great argument to bind Taurello with the Guelf Cause, body and mind, Came the consummate rhetoric to that ? Yet most Sordello's argument dropped flat Through his accustomed fault of breaking yoke, Disjoining him who felt from him who spoke. Was 't not a touching incident so prompt A rendering the world its just accompt, Once proved its debtor ? Who 'd suppose, before This proof, that he, Goito's god of yore, At duty's instance could demean himself BUT TO WILL AND TO DO ARE DIFFERENT: 161 So memorably, dwindle to a Guelf ? Be sure, in such delicious flattery steeped, His inmost self at the out-portion peeped Thus occupied ; then stole a glance at those Appealed to, curious if her color rose Or his lip moved, while he discreetly urged The need of Lombardy's becoming purged At soonest of her barons ; the poor part Abandoned thus, missing the blood at heart And spirit in brain, unseasonably off Elsewhere ! But, though his speech was worthy scoff, Good-humored Salinguerra, famed for tact And tongue, who, careless of his phrase, ne'er lacked The right phrase, and harangued Honorius dumb At his accession, looked as all fell plumb To purpose and himself found interest In every point his new instructor pressed Left playing with the rescript's white wax seal To scrutinize Sordello head and heel. Then means he yield assent sure ? No, alas I All he replied was, " What, it comes to pass That poesy, sooner than politics, Makes fade young hair ? " To think such speech could fix Taurello ! Then a flash of bitter truth : So fantasies could break and fritter youth That he had long ago lost earnestness, Lost will to work, lost power to even express The need of working ! Earth was turned a grave : 162 HE MAT SLEEP ON THE BED HE HAS MADE. No more occasions now, though he should crave Just one, in right of superhuman toil, To do what was undone, repair such spoil, Alter the Past nothing would give the chance I Not that he was to die : he saw askance Protract the ignominious years beyond To dream in time to hope and time despond. Remember and forget, be sad, rejoice As saved a trouble ; he might, at his choice, One way or other, idle life out, drop No few smooth verses by the way for prop, A thyrsus, these sad people, all the same, Should pick up, and set store by, far from blame, Plant o'er his hearse, convinced his better part Survived him. " Rather tear men out the heart Of the truth ! " Sordello muttered, and renewed His propositions for the Multitude. But Salinguerra, who at this attack Had thrown great breast and ruffling corslet back To hear the better, smilingly resumed His task ; beneath, the carroch's warning boomed ; He must decide with Tito ; courteously He turned then, even seeming to agree With his admonisher " Assist the Pope, Extend Guelf domination, fill the scope Of the Church, thus based on All, by All, for All Change Secular to Evangelical " Echoing his very sentence : all seemed lost, When sudden he looked up, laughingly almost, SCORN FLINGS COLD WATER IN HIS FACE, 163 To Palma : " This opinion of your friend's For instance, would it answer Palma's ends ? Best, were it not, turn Guelf, submit our Strength " (Here he drew out his baldric to its length) " To the Pope's Knowledge let our captive slip, Wide to the walls throw ope our gates, equip Azzo with . . . what I hold here ? Who '11 subscribe To a trite censure of the minstrel tribe Henceforward? or pronounce, as Heinrich used, ' Spear-heads for battle, burr-heads for the joust ! ' When Constance, for his couplets, would promote Alcamo, from a parti-colored coat, To holding her lord's stirrup in the wars. Not that I see where couplet-making jars With common sense : at Mantua I had borne This chanted, better than their most forlorn Of bull-baits, that 's indisputable ! " Brave ! Whom vanity nigh slew, contempt shall save ! All 's at an end : a Troubadour suppose Mankind will class him with their friends or foes ? A puny uncouth ailing vassal think The world and him bound in some special link ? Abrupt the visionary tether burst What were rewarded here, or what amerced If a poor drudge, solicitous to dream Deservingly, got tangled by his theme So far as to conceit the knack or gift Or whatsoe'er it be, of verse, might lift 164 AROUSES HIM AT LAST, TO SOME PURPOSE, The globe, a lever like the hand and head Of " Men of Action," as the Jongleurs said, " The Great Men," in the people's dialect ? And not a moment did this scorn affect Sordello : scorn the poet ? They, for once, Asking " what was," obtained a full response. Bid Naddo think at Mantua, he had but To look into his promptuary, put Finger on a set thought in a set speech : But was Sordello fitted thus for each Conjecture ? Nowise ; since, within his soul, Perception brooded unexpressed and whole. A healthy spirit like a healthy frame Craves aliment in plenty all the same, Changes, assimilates its aliment. Perceived Sordello, on a truth intent ? Next day no formularies more you saw Than figs or olives in a sated maw. T is Knowledge, whither such perceptions tend ; They lose themselves in that, means to an end, The many old producing some one new, A last unlike the first. If lies are true, The Caliph's wheel- work man of brass receives A meal, munched millet grains and lettuce leaves Together in his stomach rattle loose You find them perfect next day to produce ; But ne'er expect the man, on strength of that, Can roll an iron camel-collar flat Like Haroun's self ! I tell you, what was stored AND THUS GETS THE UTMOST OUT OF HIM. 165 Bit by bit through Sordello's life, outpoured That eve, was, for that age, a novel thing : And round those three the people formed a ring^ Of visionary judges whose award . He recognized in full faces that barred Henceforth return to the old careless life, In whose great presence, therefore, his first strife For their sake must not be ignobly fought. All these, for once, approved of him, he thought, Suspended their own vengeance, chose await The issue of this strife to reinstate Them in the right of taking it in fact He must be proved king ere they could exact Vengeance for such king's defalcation. Last, A reason why the phrases flowed so fast Was in his quite forgetting for a time Himself hi his amazement that the rhyme Disguised the royalty so much : he there And Salinguerra and yet unaware Who was the lord, who liegeman ! Thus I lay On thine my spirit and compel obey His lord, my liegeman, impotent to build Another Rome, but hardly so unskilled In what such builder should have been, as brook One shame beyond the charge that I forsook His function ! Free me from that shame, I bend A brow before, suppose new years to spend, Allow each chance, nor fruitlessly recur 166 HE ASSERTS THE POET*S RANK AND RIGHT, Measure thee with the Minstrel, then, demur At any crown he claims ! That I must cede Shamed now, my right to my especial meed Confess thee fitter help the world than I Ordained its champion from eternity, Is much : but to behold thee scorn the post I quit in thy behalf to hear thee boast What makes my own despair ! " And while he rung The changes on this theme, the roof up-sprung, The sad walls of the presence-chamber died Into the distance, or embowering vied With far-away Goito's vine-frontier ; And crowds of faces (only keeping clear The rose-light in the midst, his vantage-ground To fight their battle from) deep clustered round Sordello, with good wishes no mere breath, Kind prayers for him no vapor, since, come death, Come life, he was fresh-sinewed every joint, Each bone new-marrowed as whom Gods anoint Though mortal to their rescue : now let sprawl The snaky volumes hither ! Is Typhon all For Hercules to trample good report From Salinguerra only to extort ? " So was I" (closed he his inculcating, A poet must be eartn's essential king) " So was I, royal so, and if I fail, 'T is not the royalty, ye witness quail, But one deposed who, caring not exert Its proper essence, trifled malapert BASING THESE ON THEIB PROPER GROUND, 167 With accidents instead good things assigned As heralds of a better thing behind And, worthy through display of these, put forth Never the inmost all-surpassing worth That constitutes him King precisely since As yet no other spirit may evince Its like : the power he took most pride to test, Whereby all forms of life had been professed At pleasure, forms already on the earth, Was but a means to power beyond, whose birth Should, in its novelty, be kingship's proof. Now, whether he came near or kept aloof The several forms he longed to imitate, Not there the kingship lay, he sees too late. Those forms, unalterable first as last, Proved him her copier, not the protoplast Of nature : what could come of being free By action to exhibit tree for tree, Bird, beast, for beast and bird, or prove earth bore One veritable man or woman more ? Means to an end, such proofs are : what the end ? Let essence, whatsoe'er it be, extend Never contract ! Already you include The multitude ; then let the multitude Include yourself; and the result were new : Themselves before, the multitude turn you. This were to live and move and have, in them, Your being, and secure a diadem Yuu should transmit (because no cycle yearns 168 RECOGNIZING TRUE DIGNITY IN SERVICE, Beyond itself, but on itself returns) When, the full sphere in wane, the world o'erlaid Long since with you, shall have in turn obeyed Some orb still prouder, some displayer, still More potent than the last, of human will, And some new King depose the old. Of such Am I whom pride of this elates too much ? Safe, rather say, 'mid troops of peers again ; I, with my words, hailed brother of the train Deeds once sufficed : for, let the world roll back, Who fails, through deeds howe'er diverse, re-track My purpose still, my task ? A teeming crust Air, flame, earth, wave at conflict ! Then, needs must Emerge some Calm embodied, these refer The brawl to ; yellow-bearded Jupiter ? No ! Saturn ; some existence like a pact And protest against Chaos, some first fact I' the faint of time. My deep of life, I know, Is unavailing e'en to poorly show "... (For here the Chief immeasurably yawned) ..." Deeds in their due gradation till Song dawned The fullest effluence of the finest mind, All in degree, no way diverse in kind From minds about it, minds which, more or less Lofty or low, move seeking to impress Themselves on somewhat ; but one mind has climbed Step after step, by just ascent sublimed. Thought is the soul of act, and, stage by stage, Is soul from body still to disengage WHETHER SUCCESSIVELY THAT OK EPOIST, 169 As tending to a freedom which rejects Such help and incorporeally affects The. world, producing deeds but not by deeds, Swaying, in others, frames itself exceeds, Assigning them the simpler tasks it used To patiently perform till Song produced Acts, by thoughts only, for the mind : divest Mind of e'en Thought, and, lo, God's unexpressed Will dawns above us ! All then is to win Save that ! How much for me, then ? where begin My work ? About me, faces ! and they flock, The earnest faces ! What shall I unlock By song ? behold me prompt, whate'er it be, To minister : how much can mortals see Of Life ? No more than so ? I take the task And marshal you Life's elemental masque, Show Men, on evil or on good lay stress, This light, this shade make prominent, suppress All ordinary hues that softening blend Such natures with the level. Apprehend Which sinner is, which saint, if I allot Hell, Purgatory, Heaven, a blaze or blot, To those you doubt concerning ! I enwomb Some wretched Friedrich with his red-hot tomb; Some dubious spirit, Lombard Agilulph With the black chastening river I engulph ; Some unapproached Matilda I enshrine With languors of the planet of decline These, fiil to recognize, to arbitrate 8 170 DRAMATIST, OB, SO TO CALL HIM, ANALYST, Between henceforth, to rightly estimate Thus marshalled in the masque ! Myself, the while, As one of you, am witness, shrink or smile At my own showing ! Next age what 's to do ? The men and women stationed hitherto Will I unstation, good and bad, conduct Each nature to its farthest, or obstruct At soonest, in the world : light, thwarted, breaks A limpid purity to rainbow flakes, Or shadow, massed, freezes to gloom : behold How such, with fit assistance to unfold, Or obstacles to crush them, disengage Their forms, love, hate, hope, fear, peace make, war wage, In presence of you all ! Myself, implied Superior now, as, by the platform's side, I bade them do and suffer, would last content The world ... no that 's too far ! I circumvent A few, my masque contented, and to these Offer unveil the last of mysteries Man's inmost life shall have yet freer play : Once more I cast external things away, And natures composite, so decompose That" . . . Why, he writes Sordello! " How I rose, And how have you advanced ! since evermore Yourselves effect what I was fain before Effect, what I supplied yourselves suggest, What I leave bare yourselves can now invest. How we attain to talk as brothers talk, WHO TURNS IN DUE COURSE SYNTHETIST. 171 fn half-words, call things by half-names, no balk From discontinuing old aids. To-day Takes in account the work of Yesterday : Has not the world a Past now, its adept Consults ere he dispense with or accept New aids ? a single touch more may enhance, A touch less turn to insignificance Those structures' symmetry the Past has strewed The world with, once so bare. Leave the mere rude Explicit details ! 't is but brother's speech We need, speech where an accent's change gives each The other's soul no speech to understand By former audience : need was then to expand, Expatiate hardly were we brothers ! true Nor I lament my small remove from you, Nor reconstruct what stands already. Ends Accomplished turn to means : my art intends New structure from the ancient : as they changed The spoils of every clime at Venice, ranged The horned and snouted Libyan god, upright As in his desert, by some simple bright Clay cinerary pitcher Thebes as Rome, Athens as Byzant rifled, till their Dome From earth's reputed consummations razed A seal, the all-transmuting Triad blazed Above. Ah, whose that fortune ? ne'erthelesa E'en he must stoop contented to express No tithe of what 's to say the vehicle Never sufficient : but his work is still 172 THIS FOR ONK DAY: NOW, SERVE AS GUELF! For faces like the faces that select The single service I am bound effect, And bid me cast aside such fancies, bow Taurello to the Guelf cause, disallow The Kaiser's coming which with heart, soul, strength, I labor for, this eve, who feel at length My past career's outrageous vanity, And would, as it amends, die, even die Now I first estimate the boon of life, If death might win compliance sure, this strife Is right for once the People my support." My poor Sordello ! what may we extort By this, I wonder ? Palma's lighted eyes Turned to Taurello who, long past surprise, Began, " You love him what you 'd say at large Let me say briefly. First, your father's charge To me, his friend, peruse : I guessed indeed You were no stranger to the course decreed. He bids me leave his children to the saints : As for a certain project, he acquaints The Pope with that, and offers him the best Of your possessions to permit the rest Go peaceably to Ecelin, a stripe 3f soil the cursed Vicentines will gripe, To Alberic, a patch the Trevisan Clutches already ; extricate, who can, Treville, Villarazzi, Puissolo, Cartiglione, Loria ! all go, And with them go my hopes. T is lost, then ! Lost 8ALINGUERRA, DISLODGED FROM HIS POST, 178 jThis eve, our crisis, and some pains it cost Procuring ; thirty years as good 1 'd spent Like our admonisher ! But each his bent Pursues : no question, one might live absurd One's self this while, by deed as he by word, Persisting to obtrude an influence where T is made account of, much as ... nay, you fare With twice the fortune, youngster ! I submit, Happy to parallel my waste of wit With the renowned Sordello's : you decide A course for me. Romano may abide Romano, Bacchus ! After all, what dearth Of Ecelins and Alberics on earth ? Say there 's a prize in prospect, must disgrace Betide competitors, unless they style Themselves Romano ? were it worth my while To try my own luck ! But an obscure place Suits me there wants a youth to bustle, stalk And attitudinize some fight, more talk, Most flaunting badges how, I might make clear, Since Friedrich's very purposes lie here Here, pity they are like to lie ! For me, With station fixed unceremoniously Long since, small use contesting ; I am but The liegeman, you are born the lieges shut That gentle mouth now ! or resume your kin In your sweet self; were Palma Ecelin For me to work with ! Could that neck endure This bauble for a cumbrous garniture, 174 IN MOVING, OPENS A DOOE TO SORDELLO, She should ... or might one bear it for her ? Stay I have not been so flattered many a day As by your pale friend Bacchus ! The least help Would lick the hind's fawn to a lion's whelp His nack is broad enough a ready tongue Beside too writhled but, the main thing, young I could . . . why, look ye ! " And the badge was thrown Across Sordello's neck : " This badge alone Makes you Romano's Head becomes superb On your bare neck, which would, on mine, disturb The pauldron," said Taurello. A mad act, Not even dreamed about before in fact, Not when his sportive arm rose for the nonce But he had dallied overmuch, this once, With power : the thing was done, and he, aware The thing was done, proceeded to declare (So like a nature made to serve, excel In serving, only feel by service well !) That he would make Sordello that and more. " As good a scheme as any ! What 's to pore At in my face ? " he asked ponder instead This piece of news ; you are Romano's Head ! One cannot slacken pace so near the goal, Suffer my Azzo to escape heart-whole This time ! For you there 's Palma to espouse For me, one crowning trouble ere I house Like my compeer." On which ensued a strange WHO IS DECLARED SALINGUERRA'S SON. 175 And solemn visitation ; there came change O'er every one of them ; each looked on each : Up in the midst a truth grew, without speech. And when the giddiness sank and the haze Subsided, they were sitting, no amaze, Sordello with the baldric on, his sire Silent, though his proportions seemed aspire Momently ; and, interpreting the thrill Nigh at its ebb, Palma was found there still Relating somewhat Adelaide confessed A year ago, while dying on her breast, Of a contrivance that Vicenza night, When Ecelin had birth. " Their convoy's flight, Cut off a moment, coiled inside the flame That wallowed like a dragon at his game The toppling city through San Biagio rocks And wounded lies in her delicious locks Retrude, the frail mother, on her face, None of her wasted, just in one embrace Covering her child : when, as they lifted her, Cleaving the tumult, mighty, mightier And mightiest Taurello's cry outbroke, Leapt like a tongue of fire that cleaves the smoke, Midmost to cheer his Mantuans onward drown His colleague Ecelin's clamor, up and down The disarray : failed Adelaide see then Who was the natural cliief, the man of men ? Outstripping time, her infant there burst swathe, Stood up with eyes haggard beyond the scathe 176 HIDDEN HITHERTO BY ADELAIDE'S POLICY. From wandering after his heritage Lost once and lost for aye and why that rage. That deprecating glance ? A new shape leant On a familiar shape gloatingly bent O'er his discomfiture ; 'mid wreaths it wore, Still one outflamed the rest her child's before 'T was Salinguerra's for his child : scorn, hate Rage, startled her from Ecelin too late ! Then was the moment ! rival's foot had spurned Never that brow to earth ! Ere sense returned The act conceived, adventured, and complete, They bore away to an obscure retreat Mother and child Retrude's self not slain " (Nor even here Taurello moved) " though pain Was fled ; and what assured them most 't was fled, All pain, was, if they raised the pale hushed head 'T would turn this way and that, waver awhile, And only settle into its old smile (Graceful as the disquieted water-flag Steadying itself, remarked they, in the quag On either side their path) when suffered look Down on her child. They marched : no sign once shook The company's close litter of crossed spears Till, as they reached Goito, a few tears Slipt in the sunset from her long black lash, And she was gone. So far the action rash No crime. They laid Retrude in the font, Taurello's very gift, ner child was wont To sit beneath constant as eve he came HOW THE DISCOVERY MOVES SAJLINGDERRA, 177 To sit by its attendant girls the same As one of them. For Palma, she would blend With this magnific spirit to the end, That ruled her first but scarcely had she dared To disobey the Adelaide who scared Her into vowing never to disclose A secret to her husband, which so froze His blood at half recital, she contrived To hide from him Taurello's infant lived, Lest, by revealing that, himself should mar Romano's fortunes. And, a crime so far, Palma received that action : she was told Of Salinguerra's nature, of his cold Calm acquiescence in his lot ! But free To impart the secret to Romano, she Engaged to repossess Sordello of His heritage, and hers, and that way doff The mask, but after years, long years ! while now, Was not Romano's sign-mark on that brow ? " Across Taurello's heart his arms were locked : And when he did speak 't was as if he mocked The minstrel, " who had not to move," he said, u Not stir should Fate defraud him of a shred Of his son's infancy ? much less of his youth ! " (Laughingly all this) " which to aid, in truth, Himself, reserved on purpose, had not grown Old, not too old 't was best they kept alone Till now, and never idly met till now " ; Then, in the same breath, told Sordello how 6* t 178 AND SOBDELLO THE FINALLY-DETERMINED, All intimations of this eve's event Were lies, for Friedrich must advance to Trent, Thence to Verona, then to Rome, there stop, Tumble the Church down, institute a-top The Alps a Prefecture of Lombardy : " That 's now ! no prophesying what may be Anon, with a new monarch of the clime, Native of Gesi, passing his youth's prime At Naples. Tito bids my choice decide On whom ..." " Embrace him, madman ! " Palma cried, Who through the laugh saw sweatdrops burst apace, And his lips' blanching : he did not embrace Sordello, but he laid Bordello's hand On his own eyes, mouth, forehead. Understand, This while Sordello was becoming flushed Out of his whiteness : thoughts rushed, fancies rushed ; He pressed his hand upon his head and signed Both- should forbear him. " Nay, the best 's belu'nd ! " Taurello laughed, not quite with the same laugh : h The truth is, thus we scatter, ay, like chaff These Guelfs, a despicable monk recoils From : nor expect a fickle Kaiser spoils Our triumph ! Friedrich ? Think you, I intend Friedrich shall reap the fruits of blood I spend And brain I waste ? Think you, the people clap Their hands at my out-hewing this wild gap For any Friedrich to fill up ? 'T is mine THE DEVIL PUTTING FORTH HIS POTENCY : 179 That 's yours : I tell you, towards some such design Have I worked blindly, yes, and idly, yes, And for another, yes but worked no less With instinct at my heart ; I else had swerved, While now look round ! My cunning has preserved Samminiato that 's a central place Secures us Florence, boy, in Pisa's case, By land as she by sea ; with Pisa ours, And Florence, and Pistoia, one devours The land at leisure ! Gloriously dispersed Brescia, observe, Milan, Piacenza first That flanked us (ah, you know not !) in the March ; On these we pile, as keystone of our arch, Romagna and Bologna, whose first span Covered the Trentine and the Valsugan ; Sofia's Egna by Bolgiano 's sure ! " . . . So he proceeded : half of all this, pure Delusion, doubtless, nor the rest too true, But what was undone he felt sure to do, As ring by ring he wrung off, flung away The pauldron-rings to give his sword-arm play Need of the sword now ! That would soon adjust Aught wrong at present ; to the sword intrust Sordello's whiteness, undersize : 't was plain He hardly rendered right to his own brain Like a brave hound, men educate to pride Himself on speed or scent nor aught beside, As though he could not, gift by gift, match men ! Palma had listened patiently : but when 180 SINCE SOBDELLO, WHO BEGAN BY RHYMING, T was time expostulate, attempt withdraw Taurello from his child, she, without awe Took off his iron arms from, one by one, Sordello's shrinking shoulders, and, that done, Made him avert his visage and relieve Bordello (you might see his corselet heave The while) who, loose, rose tried to speak, then sank They left him in the chamber. All was blank. And even reeling down the narrow stair Taurello kept up, as though unaware Palma was by to guide him, the old device Something of Milan " how we muster thrice The Torriani's strength there all along Our own Visconti cowed them " thus the song Continued even while she bade him stoop, Thrid somehow, by some glimpse of arrow-loop, The turnings to the gallery below, Where he stopped short as Palma let him go. When he had sat in silence long enough Splintering the stone bench, braving a rebuff She stopt the truncheon ; only to commence One of Sordello's poems, a pretence For speaking, some poor rhyme of " Elys' hair And head that 's sharp and perfect like a pear, So smooth and close are laid the few fine locks Stained like pale honey oozed from topmost rocks Sun-blanched the livelong Summer " from his worst Performance, the Goito, as his first : And that at end, conceiving from the brow MAY, EYEN FROM THE DEPTHS OF FAILURE, 181 And open mouth no silence would serve now, Went on to say the whole world loved that man And, for that matter, thought his face, tho' wan, Eclipsed the Count's he sucking in each phrase As if an angel spoke. The foolish praise Ended, he drew her on his mailed knees, made Her face a framework with his hands, a shade, A crown, an aureole : there must she remain (Her little mouth compressed with smiling pain As in his gloves she felt her tresses twitch) To get the best look at, in fittest niche Dispose his saint. That done, he kissed her brow, " Lauded her father for his treason now," He told her, " only, how could one suspect The wit in him ? whose clansman, recollect, Was ever Salinguerra she, the same, Romano and his lady so, might claim To know all, as she should " and thus begun Schemes with a vengeance, schemes on schemes, " not one Fit to be told that foolish boy," he said, " But only let Sordello Palma wed, Then!" T was a dim long narrow place at best : Midway a sole grate showed the fiery West, As shows its corpse the world's end some split tomb A gloom, a rift of fire, another gloom, Faced Palma but at length Taurello set Her free ; the grating held one ragged jet Of fierce gold fire : he lifted her within 182 YET SPRING TO THE SUMMIT OF SUCCESS, The hollow underneath how else begin Fate's second marvellous cycle, else renew The ages than with Palma plain in view ? Then paced the passage, hands clenched, head erect, Pursuing his discourse ; a grand unchecked Monotony made out from his quick talk And the recurring noises of his walk ; Somewhat too much like the o'ercharged assent Of two resolved friends in one danger blent, Who hearten each the other against heart Boasting there 's naught to care for, when, apart The boaster, all 's to care for. He, beside Some shape not visible, in power and pride Approached, out of the dark, ginglingly near, Nearer, passed close in the broad light, his ear Crimson, eyeballs suffused, temples full-fraught, Just a snatch of the rapid speech you caught, And on he strode into the opposite dark Till presently the harsh heel's turn, a spark I' the stone, and whirl of some loose embossed thong That crashed against the angle aye so long After the last, punctual to an amount Of mailed great paces you could not but count, Prepared you for the pacing back again And by the snatches you might ascertain That, Friedrich's Prefecture surmounted, left By this alone in Italy, they cleft Asunder, crushed together, at command Of none, were free to break up Hildebrand, IF HE CONSENT TO OPPRESS THE WORLD. 183 Rebuild, he and Sordello, Charlemagne But garnished, Strength with Knowledge, " if we deign Accept that compromise and stoop to give Rome law, the Caesars' Representative." Enough that the illimitable flood Of triumphs after triumphs, understood In its faint reflux (you shall hear) sufficed Young Ecelin for appanage, enticed Him on till, these long quiet in their graves, He found 't was looked for that a whole life's braves Should somehow be made good so, weak and worn, Must stagger up at Milan, one gray morn Of the To-Come, and fight his latest -fight. But, Salinguerra's prophecy at height He voluble with a raised arm and stiff, A blaring voice, a blazing eye, as if He had our very Italy to keep Or cast away, or gather in a heap To garrison the better ay, his word Was, " run the cucumber into a gourd, Drive Trent upon Apulia " at their pitch Who spied the continents and islands which Grew mulberry-leaves and sickles, in the map (Strange that three such confessions so should hap To Palma, Dante spoke with in the clear Amorous silence of the Swooning-sphere, Cunizza, as he called her ! Never ask Of Palma more ! She sat, knowing her task Was done, the labor of it for, success, 184 JUST THIS DECIDED, AND WE HAVE DONE. Concerned not Palma, passion's votaries) Triumph at height, and thus Sordello crowned Above the passage suddenly a sound Stops speech, stops walk : back shrinks Taurello, bids With large involuntary asking lids, Palma interpret. " 'T is his own foot-stamp Your hand ! His summons ! Nay, this idle damp Befits not ! " Out they two reeled dizzily. w Visconti 's strong at Milan," resumed he, In the old, somewhat insignificant way (Was Palma wont, years afterward, to say) As though the spirit's flight, sustained thus far, Dropped at that very instant. Gone they are Palma, Taurello ; Eglamor anon, Ecelin, only Naddo 's never gone ! Labors, this moonrise, what the Master meant u Is Squarcialupo speckled ? purulent, I 'd say, but when was Providence put out ? He carries somehow handily about His spite nor fouls himself ! " Goito's vines Stand like a cheat detected stark rough lines, The moon breaks through, a gray mean scale against The vault where, this eve's Maiden, thou remain'st Like some fresh martyr, eyes fixed who can tell ? As Heaven, now all 's at end, did not so well, Spite of the faith and victory, to leave Its virgin quite to death in the lone eve. While the persisting hermit-bee ... ha ! wait No longer these in compass, forward fate ! BOOK THE SIXTH. AT THE CLOSE OF A DAT OR A LIFE, THE thought of Eglamor 's least like a thought, And yet a false one, was, " Man shrinks to naught If matched with symbols of immensity Must quail, forsooth, before a quiet sky Or sea, too little for their quietude " : And, truly, somewhat in Sordello's mood Confirmed its speciousness, while eve slow sank Down the near terrace to the farther bank, And only one spot left out of the night Glimmered upon the river opposite A breadth of watery heaven like a bay, A sky-like space of water, ray for ray, And star for star, one richness where they mixed As this and that wing of an angel, fixed, Tumultuary splendors folded in To die. Nor turned he till Ferrara's din (Say, the monotonous speech from a man's lip Who lets some first and eager purpose slip In a new fancy's birth ; the speech keeps on Though elsewhere its informing soul be gone) Aroused him, surely offered succor. Fate Paused with this eve ; ere she precipitate Herself, put off strange after-thoughts awhile, That voice, those large hands, thai portentous smile, 186 PAST PROCEDURE IS FITLIEST REVIEWED, What help to pierce the Future as the Past, Lay hi the plaining city ? And at last The main discovery and prime concern, All that just now imported him to learn, His truth, like yonder slow moon to complete Heaven, rose again, and, naked at his feet, Lighted his old life's every shift and change, Effort with counter-effort ; nor the range Of each looked wrong except wherein it checked, Some other which of these could he suspect, Prying into them by the sudden blaze ? The real way seemed made up of all the ways Mood after mood of the one mind in him ; Tokens of the existence, bright or dim, Of a transcendent all-embracing sense Demanding only outward influence, A soul, hi Palma's phrase, above his soul, Power to uplift his power, this moon's control, Over the sea-depths, and their mass had swept Onward from the beginning and still kept Its course : but years and years the sky above Held none, and so, untasked of any love, His sensitiveness idled, now amort, Alive now, and to sullenness or sport Given wholly up, disposed itself anew At every passing instigation, grew A.nd dwindled at caprice, in foam-showers spilt, Wedge-like insisting, quivered now a gilt AS MORE APPRECIABLE IN ITS ENTIRETY. 187 Shield in the sunshine, now a blinding race Of whitest ripples o'er the reef found place For much display ; not gathered up and, hurled Right from its heart, encompassing the world. So had Sordello been, by consequence, Without a function : others made pretence To strength not half his own, yet had some core Within, submitted to some moon, before Them still, superior still whate'er their force, Were able therefore to fulfil a course, Nor missed life's crown, authentic attribute. To each who lives must be a certain fruit Of having lived in his degree, a stage, Earlier or later in men's pilgrimage, To stop at ; and to this the spirits tend Who, still discovering beauty without end, Amass the scintillations, make one star Something unlike them, self-sustained, afar, And meanwhile nurse the dream of being blest By winning it to notice and invest Their souls with alien glory, some one day Whene'er the nucleus, gathering shape alway, Round to the perfect circle soon or late, According as themselves are formed to wait ; Whether mere human beauty will suffice The yellow hair and the luxurious eyes, Or human intellect seem best, or each Combine in some ideal form past reach On earth, or else some shade of these, some aim, 188 STRONG, HE NEEDED EXTEUNAL STUENGTH : Some love, hate even, take their place, the same, And may be served all this they do not lose, Waiting for death to live, nor idly choose What must be Hell a progress thus pursued Through all existence, still above the food That 's offered them, still towering beyond The widened range, in virtue of their bond Of sovereignty. Not that a Palma's Love, A Salinguerra's Hate, would equal prove To swaying all Sordello : wherefore doubt, That Love meet for such Strength, some moon without Would match his sea ? or fear, Good manifest, Only the Best breaks faith ? Ah, but the Best Somehow eludes us ever, still might be And is not ! crave we gems ? no penury Of their material round us ! pliant earth, The plastic flame what balks the mage his birth Jacynth in balls, or lodestone by the block ? Flinders enrich the strand, and veins the rock Naught more ! Ask creatures ? Life 's i' the tempest Thought Clothes the keen hill-top, midday woods are fraught With fervors : ah, these forms are well enough ! But we had hoped, encouraged by the stuff Profuse at Nature's pleasure, men beyond These men ! and thus, perchance, are over-fond In arguing, from Good the Best, from force Divided force combined, an ocean's course From this our sea whose mere intestine pants EVEN NOW, WHERE CAN HE PERCEIVE SUCH? 189 Might seem at times sufficient to our wants. External Power ? If none be adequate And he stand forth ordained (a prouder fate) A law to his own sphere ? need to remove All incompleteness, for that law, that love ? Nay, if all other laws be such, though veiled In mercy to each vision that had failed If unassisted by its want, for lure, Embodied ? Stronger vision could endure The unbodied want : no bauble for a truth ! The People were himself; and, by the ruth At their condition, was he less impelled To alter the discrepancy beheld, Than if, from the sound Whole, a sickly Part Subtracted were transformed, decked out with art, Then palmed on him as alien woe the Guelf To succor, proud that he forsook himself? No! All's himself; all service, therefore, rates Alike, nor serving one part, immolates The rest : but all in time ! " That lance of yours Makes havoc soon with Malek and his Moors, That buckler 's lined with many a giant's beard Ere long, O champion, be the lance upreared, The buckler wielded handsomely as now ! But view your escort, bear in mind your vow, Count the pale tracts of sand to pass ere that, And, if you hope we struggle through the flat, Put lance and buckler by ! Next half-month lacks Mere sturdy exercise of mace and axe 190 INTERNAL STRENGTH MUST SUFFICE THEN, To cleave this dismal brake of prickly-pear Which bristling holds Cydippe by the hair, Lames barefoot Agathon : this felled, we '11 try The picturesque achievements by and by Next life ! " Ay, rally, mock, O People, urge Your claims ! for thus he ventured, to the verge, Push a vain mummery which perchance distrust Of his fast-slipping resolution thrust Likewise : accordingly the Crowd as yet He had inconsciously contrived forget F the whole, to dwell o' the points . . . one *night assuage The signal horrors easier than engage With a dim vulgar vast unobvious grief Not to be fancied off, nor gained relief In brilliant fits, cured by a happy quirk, But by dim vulgar vast unobvious work To correspond . . . this Crowd then, forth they stood. " And now content thy stronger vision, brood On thy bare want ; uncovered, turf by turf, Study the corpse-face thro' the taint-worms' scurf ! " Down sank the People's Then ; uprose their Nov- These sad ones render service to ! And how Piteously little must that service prove Had surely proved in any case ! for, move Each other obstacle away, let youth Have been aware it had surprised a truth T were service to impart can truth be seized, HIS SYMPATHY WITH THE PEOPLE, TO WIT; 191 Settled forthwith, and, of the captive eased, Its captor find fresh prey, since this alit So happily, no gesture luring it, The earnest of a flock to follow ? Vain, Most vain ! a life 's to spend ere this he chain, To the poor crowd's complacence ; ere the crowd Pronounce it captured, he descries a cloud Its kin of twice the plume which he, in turn, If he shall live as many lives, may learn How to secure not else. Then Mantua called Back to his mind how certain bards were thralled Buds blasted, but of breath more like perfume Than Naddo's staring nosegay's carrion bloom : Some insane rose that burnt heart out in sweets, A spendthrift in the Spring, no Summer greets Some Dularete, drunk with truths and wine, Grown bestial, dreaming how become divine. " Yet to surmount this obstacle, commence With the commencement, merits crowning ! Hence Must truth be casual truth, elicited In sparks so mean, at intervals dispread So rarely, that 't is like at no one time Of the world's story has not truth, the prime Of truth, the very truth which, loosed, had hurled The world's course right, been really in the world Content the while with some mean spark by dint Of some chance-blow, the solitary hint Of buried fire, which, rip its breast, would stream Sky-ward ! " 192 OF WHICH, TRY NOW THE INHERENT FORCE! Sordello's miserable gleam Was looked for at the moment : he would dash This badge, and all it brought, to earth, abash Taurello thus, perhaps persuade him wrest The Kaiser from his purpose, would attest His own belief, in any case. Before He dashes it, however, think once more ! For, were that little, truly service ? " Ay I' the end, no doubt ; but meantime ? Plain you spy Its ultimate effect, but many flaws Of vision blur each intervening cause. Were the day's fraction clear as the life's sum Of service, Now as filled as the To-come With evidence of good nor too minute A share to vie with evil ! No dispute, 'T were fitliest maintain the Guelfs in rule : That makes your life's work : but you have to school Your day's work on these natures circumstanced Thus variously, which yet, as each advanced Or might impede the Guelf rule, must be moved Now, for the Then's sake, hating what you loved, Loving old hatreds ! nor if one man bore Brand upon temples while his fellow wore The aureole, would it task you to decide But, portioned duly out, the Future vied Never with the unparcelled Present ! Smite Or spare so much on warrant all so slight ? The Present's complete sympathies to break, Aversions bear with, for a Future's sake HOW MUCH OF MAN'S ILL MAY BE REMOVED? 198 So feeble ? Tito ruined through one speck, The .Legate saved by his sole lightish fleck ? This were work, true but work performed at cost Of other work aught gained here, elsewhere lost. For a new segment spoil an orb half done ? Rise with the People one step, and sink one ? Were it but one step less than the whole face Of things, your novel duty bids erase ! Harms to abolish ! what ? the prophet saith, The minstrel singeth vainly then ? Old faith, Old courage, only born because of harms, Were not, from highest to the lowest, charms ? Flame may persist but is not glare as stanch ? Where the salt marshes stagnate, crystals branch Blood dries to crimson Evil 's beautified In every shape. Thrust Beauty then aside And banish Evil ! wherefore ? After all, Is Evil a result less natural Than Good ? For, overlook the seasons' strife With tree and flower, the hideous animal life, (Of which who seeks shall find a grinning taunt For his solution, and endure the vaunt Of nature's angel, as a child that knows Himself befooled, unable to propose Aught better than the fooling) and but care For Men, for the mere People then and there, In these, could you but see that Good and HI Claimed you alike ! Whence rose their claim but still From HI, as fruit of 111 what else could knit 194 HOW MUCH OF ILL OUGHT TO BE REMOVED I You theirs but Sorrow ? Any free from it Were also free from you ! Whose happiness Could be distinguished in this morning's press Of miseries ? the fool's who passed a gibe ' On thee,' jeered he, ' so wedded to thy tribe, Thou earnest green and yellow tokens in Thy very face that thou art Ghibellin ! ' Much hold on you that fool obtained ! Nay mount Yet higher and upon men's own account Must Evil stay : for, what is Joy ? to heave Up one obstruction more, and common leave What was peculiar by such act destroy Itself; a partial death is every joy ; The sensible escape, enfranchisement Of a sphere's essence : once the vexed content, The cramped at large, the growing circle round, All 's to begin again some novel bound To break, some new enlargement to entreat, The sphere though larger is not more complete. Now for Mankind's experience : who alone Might style the unobstructed world his own ? Whom palled Goito with its perfect things ? Sordello's self! whereas for mankind springs Salvation by each hindrance interposed ; They climb, life's view is not at once disclosed To creatures caught up, on its summit left, Heaven plain above them, yet of wings bereft But lower laid, as at the mountain's foot, While, range on range, the girdling forests shoot IF REMOVED, AT WHAT COST TO BORDELLO? 195 Twixt your plain prospect and the throngs who scale Height after height, and pierce mists, veil by veil, Heartened with each discovery ; in their soul, The Whole they seek by Parts but, found that Who Could they revert, enjoy past gains ? The space Of time you judge so meagre to embrace The Parts, were more than plenty, once attained The Whole, to quite exhaust it : naught were gained But leave to look not leave to do : Beneath Soon sates the looker look Above, and Death Tempts ere a tithe of Life be tasted. Live . First, and die soon enough, Sordello ! Give Body and spirit the first right they claim, And pasture thee on a voluptuous shame That thou, a pageant-city's denizen, Art neither vilely lodged midst Lombard men Canst force joy out of sorrow, seem to truck Thine attributes away for sordid muck, Yet manage from that very muck educe Gold ; then subject, nor scruple, to thy cruce The world's discardings ! Though real ingots pay Thy pains, the clods that yielded them are clay To all save thee, would clay remain, though quenched Thy purging-fire ; who 's robbed then ? Had you wrenched An ampler treasure forth ! As 't is, they crave A share that ruins you and will not save Them. Why should sympathy command you quit The course that makes your joy, nor will remit L96 MEN WIN LITTLE THEREBY; HE LOSES ALL! Their woe ? Would all arrive at joy ? Reverse The order (time instructs you) nor coerce Each unit till, some predetermined mode, The total be emancipate ; men's road Is one, men's times of travel many ; thwart No enterprising soul's precocious start Before the general march ! if slow or fast All straggle up to the same point at last, Why grudge your having gained, a month ago, The brakes at balm-shed, asphodels in blow, While they were landlocked ? Speed there Then, but how This badge would suffer you improve your Now ! ' " His time of action for, against, or with Our world (I labor to extract the pith Of this his problem) grew, that even-tide, Gigantic with its power of joy, beside The world's eternity of impotence To profit though at his whole joy's expense. " Make nothing of my day because so brief? Rather make more instead of joy, use grief Before its novelty have time /subside ! Wait not for the late savour leave untried Virtue, the creaming honey-wine, quick squeeze Vice like a biting spirit from the lees Of life ! together let wrath, hatred, lust, AH tyrannies in every shape, be thrust Upon this Now, which time may reason out As mischiefs, far from benefits, no doubt But long ere then Sordello will have slipt FOB HE CAN INFINITELY ENJOY HIMSELF, 197 Away you teach him at Goito's crypt, There 's a blank issue to that fiery thrill ! Stirring, the few cope with the many, still : So much of sand as, quiet, makes a mass Unable to produce three tufts of grass, Shall, troubled by the whirlwind, render void The whole calm glebe's endeavor : be employed ! And e'en though somewhat smart the Crowd for this, Contribute each his pang to make your bliss, T is but one pang one blood-drop to the bowl Which brimful tempts the sluggish asp uncowl At last, stains ruddily the dull red cape, And, kindling orbs gray as the unripe grape Before, avails forthwith to disentrance The portent soon to lead a mystic dance Among you J For, who sits alone in Rome ? Have those great hands indeed hewn out a home, And set me there to live ? O life, life-breath, Life-blood, ere sleep, come travail, life ere death I This life stream on my soul, direct, oblique, But always streaming ! Hindrances? They pique -^ Helps ? such . . . but why repeat, my soul o'ertops Each height, than every depth profoundlier drops ? Enough that I can live, and would live ! Wait For some transcendent life reserved by Fate To follow this ? O, never ! Fate, I trust The same, my soul to ; for, as who flings dust, Perchance so facile was the deed, she checked The void with these materials to affect 198 FREED FROM A PROBLEMATIC OBLIGATION. My soul diversely these consigned anew To naught by death, what marvel if she threw A second and superber spectacle Before it ? What may serve for sun what still Wander a moon above me what else wind About me like the pleasures left behind, And how shall some new flesh that is not flesh Cling to me ? what 's new laughter soothes the fresh Sleep like sleep ? Fate's exhaustless for my sake In brave resource, but whether bids she slake My thirst at this first rivulet, or count No draught worth lip save from the rocky fount Above i' the clouds, while here she 's provident Of pure loquacious pearl, the soft tree-tent Guards, with its face of reate and sedge, nor fail The silver globules and gold-sparkling grail At bottom. 0, 't were too absurd to slight For the hereafter the to-day's delight ! Quench thirst at this, then seek next well-spring weal Home-lilies ere strange lotus in my hair ! Here is the Crowd, whom I with freest heart Offer to serve, contented for my part To give life up in service, only grant That I do serve ; if otherwise, why want Aught further of me ? If men cannot choose But set aside life, why should I refuse The gift ? I take it I, for one, engage Never to falter through my pilgrimage Nor end it howling that the stock or stone AND ACCEPTING LIFE ON ITS OWN TERMS, 199 Were enviable, truly : I, for one, Will praise the world, you style mere anteroom To the palace be it so ! shall I assume My foot the courtly gait, my tongue the trope, My mouth the smirk, before the doors fly ope One moment ? What with guarders row on row, Gay swarms of varletry that come and go, Pages to dice with, waiting-girls unlace The plackets of, pert claimants help displace, Heart-heavy suitors get a rank for, laugh At yon sleek parasite, break his own staff 'Cross Beetle-brows the Usher's shoulder, why, Admitted to the presence by and by, Should thought of having lost these make me grieve Among new joys I reach, for joys I leave ? Cool citrine-crystals, fierce pyropus-stone, Are floor-work here ! But did I let alone That black-eyed peasant in the vestibule Once and forever ? Floor-work ? No such fool I Rather, were heaven to forestall earth, I 'd say I, is it, must be blessed ? Then, my own way Bless me ! give firmer arm and fleeter foot, [ '11 thank you : but to no mad wings transmute These limbs of mine our greensward was so soft I Nor camp I on the thunder-cloud aloft : We feel the bliss distin'jtlier, having thus Engines subservient, not mixed up with us. Better move palpably through heaven nor, freed Of flesh, forsooth, ^-om space to space proceed 200 WHICH, YET, OTHERS HA.VE RENOUNCED : HOW? "Mid flying synods of worlds ! No ! In heaven's marge Show Titan still, recumbent o'er his targe Solid with stars the Centaur at his game, Made tremulously out in hoary flame ! Life ! Yet the very cup whose extreme dull Dregs, even, I would quaff, was dashed, at full, Aside so oft ; the death I fly, revealed So oft a better life this life concealed, And which sage, champion, martyr, through each path Have hunted fearlessly the horrid bath, The crippling-irons and the fiery chair. 'T was well for them ; let me become aware As they, and I relinquish life, too ! Let What masters life disclose itself ! Forget Vain ordinances, I have one appeal I feel, am what I feel, know what I feel So much is truth to me. What Is, then ? Since One object, viewed diversely, may evince Beauty and ugliness this way attract, That way repel, why glozc upon the fact ? WTiy must a single of the sides be right ? What bids choose this and leave the opposite ? Where 's abstract Right for me ? in youth endued With Right still present, still to be pursued, Thro' all the interchange of circles, rife Each with its proper law and mode of life, Euch to be dwelt at ease in : where, to sway A.bsolute with the Kaiser, or obey Implicit with his serf of fluttering heart, BECAUSE THERE IS A LIFE BEYOND LIFE, 201 Or, like a sudden thought of God's, to start Dp, Brutus in the presence, then go shout That some should pick the unstrung jewels out Each, well ! " And, as in moments when the Fast Gave partially enfranchisement, he cast Himself quite through mere secondary states Of his soul's essence, little loves and hates, Into the mid deep yearnings overlaid By these; as who should pierce hill, plain, grove, glade, And on into the very nucleus probe That first determined there exist a globe. As that were easiest, half the globe dissolved, So seemed Sordello's closing-truth evolved By his flesh-half's break up the sudden swell Of his expanding soul showed 111 and Well, Sorrow and Joy, Beauty and Ugliness, Virtue and Vice, the Larger and the Less, All qualities, in fine, recorded here. Might be but modes of Time and this one sphere, Urgent on these, but not of force to bind Eternity, as Time as Matter Mind, If Mind, Eternity, should choose assert Their attributes within a Life : thus girt With circumstance, next change beholds them cinct Quite otherwise with Good and 111 distinct, Joys, sorrow?, tending to a like result Contrived to render easv, difficult, 9* 202 AND WITH NEW CONDITIONS OF SUCCESS, This or the other course of ... what new bond In place of flesh may stop their flight beyond Its new sphere, as that course does harm or good To its arrangements. Once this understood, As suddenly he felt himself alone, Quite out of Time and this world : all was known. What made the secret of his past despair ? Most imminent when he seemed most aware Of his own self-sufficiency ; made mad By craving to expand the power he had, And not new power to be expanded ? just This made it ; Soul on Matter being thrust, Joy comes when so much Soul is wreaked in Time On Matter, let the Soul's attempt sublime Matter beyond the scheme and so prevent By more or less that deed's accomplishment, And Sorrow follows : Sorrow how avoid ? Let the employer match the thing employed, Fit to the finite his infinity, And thus proceed forever, in degree Changed but in kind the same, still limited To the appointed circumstance and dead To all beyond. A sphere is but a sphere Small, Great, are merely terms we bandy here Since to the spirit's absoluteness all Are like : now, of the present sphere we call Life, are conditions take but this among Many ; the body was to be so long Youthful, no longer but, since no control NOK SUCH AS, IJf THIS, PRODUCE FAILURE. 203 Tied to that body's purposes his soul, She chose to understand the body's trade More than the body's self had fain conveyed Her boundless, to the body's bounded lot : Hence, the soul permanent, the body not, Scarce the one minute for enjoying here, The soul must needs instruct her weak compeer, Run o'er its capabilities and wring A joy thence, the held worth experiencing Which, far from half discovered even, lo, The minute gone, the body's power let go That 's portioned to that joy's acquirement ! Broke Morning o'er earth, he yearned for all it woke From the volcano's vapor-flag, winds hoist Black o'er the spread of sea, down to the moist Dale's silken barley-spikes sullied with rain, Swayed earthwards, heavily to rise again (The Small, a sphere as perfect as the Great To the soul's absoluteness) meditate Too long on such a morning's cluster-chord And the whole music it was framed afford, The chord's might half discovered, what should pluck One string, his finger, was found palsy-struck. And then no marvel if the spirit, shone A saddest sight the body lost alone Through her officious proffered help, deprived Of this and that enjoyment Fate contrived, Virtue, Good, Beauty, each allowed slip hence, Vain-gloriously wre fain, for recompense, 204 BUT, EVEN HERE, IS FAILURE INEVITABLE? To stem the ruin even yet, protract The body's term, supply the power it lacked From her infinity, compel it learn These qualities were only Time's concern, And body may, with spirit helping, barred Advance the same, vanquished obtain reward, Reap joy where sorrow was intended grow, Of Wrong make Right, and turn 111 Good below. And the result is, the poor body soon Sinks under what was meant a wondrous boon, Leaving its bright accomplice all aghast. So much was plain then, proper in the Past ; To be complete for, satisfy the whole Series of spheres Eternity, his soul Exceeded, so was incomplete for, each Single sphere Time. But does our knowledge reach No farther ? Is the cloud of hindrance broke But by the failing of the fleshly yoke, Its loves and hates, as now when death lets soar Sordello, self-sufficient as before, Though during the mere space that shall elapse 'Twixt his enthralment in new bonds, perhaps ? Must life be ever just escaped, which should Have been enjoyed ? nay, might have been and would, Each purpose ordered right the soul 's no whit Beyond the body's purpose under it Like yonder breadth of water}' heaven, a bay, And that sky-space of water, ray for ray star for star, one richness where they mixed OB FAILURE HERE MAY BE SUCCESS ALSO 205 As this and that wing of an angel, fixed, Tumultuary splendors folded in To die would soul, proportioned thus, begin Exciting discontent, or surelier quell The body if, aspiring, it rebel ? But how so order life ? Still brutalize The soul, the sad world's way, with muffled eyes To all that was before, all that shall be After this sphere and every quality Save some sole and immutable Great and Good And Beauteous whither fate has loosed its hood To follow ? Never may some soul see All The Great Before and After, and the Small Now, yet be saved by this the simplest lore, And take the single course prescribed before, As the king-bird with ages on his plumes Travels to die in his ancestral glooms ? But where descry the Love that shall select That course ? Here is a soul whom, to affect, Nature has plied with all her means from trees And flowers e'en to the Multitude ! and these Decides he save or no ? One word to end ! " Ah my Sordello, I this once befriend And speak for you. Of a Power above you still Which, utterly incomprehensible, Is out of rivalry, which thus you can Love, tho' unloving all conceived by man W"hat need ! And of none the minutest duct To that out-nature, naught that would instruct 206 WHEN INDUCED BY LOVE? BORDELLO KNOWS' And so let rivalry begin to live But of a Power its representative Who, being for authority the same, Communication different, should claim A course, the first chose and this last revealed This Human clear, as that Divine concealed What utter need ! What has Sordello found ? Or can his spirit go the mighty round, End where poor Eglamor begun ? as says Old fable, the two eagles went two ways About the world : where, in the midst, they met, Though on a shifting waste of sand, men set Jove's temple. Quick, what has Sordello found? For they approach approach that foot's rebound . Pal ma ? No, Salinguerra though in mail ; They mount, have reached the threshold, dash the vefl Aside and you divine who sat there dead, Under his foot the badge : still, Palma said, A triumph lingering in the wide eyes, Wider than some spent swimmer's if he spies Help from above in his extreme despair, And, head far back on shoulder thrust, turns there With short, quick, passionate cry : as Palma prest In one great kiss her lips upon his breast It beat. By this, the hermit-bee has stopped His day's toil at Goito : the new-cropped Dead vine-leaf answers, now 't is eve, he bit, Twirled so, and filed all day : the mansion 's fit, BUT TOO LATE : AN INSECT KNOWS SOONER. 207 God counselled for. As easy guess the word That passed betwixt them and become the third To the soft small unfrighted bee, as tax Hun with one fault so, no remembrance racks Of the stone maidens and the font of stone He, creeping through the crevice, leaves alone. Alas, my friend alas Sordello, whom Anon they laid within that old font-tomb And, yet again, alas ! And now is 't worth Our while bring back to mind, much less set forth How Salinguerra extricates himself Without Sordello ? Ghibellin and Guelf May fight their fiercest out ? If Richard sulked In durance or the Marquis paid his mulct, Who cares, Sordello gone ? The upshot, sure, Was peace ; our chief made some frank overture That prospered ; compliment fell thick and fast On its disposer, and Taurello passed With foe and friend for an outstripping soul, Nine days at least. Then, fairly reached the goal, He, by one effort, blotted the great hope Out of his mind, nor further tried to cope With Este, that mad evening's style, but sent Away the Legate and the League, content No blame at least the brothers had incurred, Despatched a message to the Monk, he heard Patiently first to last, scarce shivered at, Then curled his limbs up on bis wolfskin mat 208 ON HIS DISAPPEARANCE FROM THE STAGE, And ne'er spoke more, informed the Ferrarese He but retained their rule so long as these Lingered in pupilage, and last, no mode Apparent else of keeping safe the road From Germany direct to Lombardy For Friedrich, none, that is, to guarantee The faith and promptitude of who should next Obtain Sofia's dowry, sore perplexed (Sofia being youngest of the tribe Of daughters, Ecelin was wont to bribe The envious magnates with nor, since he sent Henry of Egna this fair child, had Trent Once failed the Kaiser's purposes " we lost Egna last year, and who takes Egna's post Opens the Lombard gate if Friedrich knock ? ") Himself espoused the Lady of the Rock In pure necessity, and so destroyed His slender last of chances, quite made void Old prophecy, and spite of all the schemes Overt and covert, youth's deeds, age's dreams, Was sucked into Romano. And so hushed He up this evening's work that, when 't was brushed Somehow against by a blind chronicle Which, chronicling whatever woe befell Ferrara, noted this the obscure woe Of " Salinguerra's sole son Giacomo Deceased, fatuous and doting, ere his sire," The townsfolk rubbed their eyes, could but admire Which of Sofia's five was meant. THE NEXT ASPIRANT CAN PRESS FORWARD, 20'J The chaps Of earth's dead hope were tardy to collapse, Obliterated not the beautiful Distinctive features at a crash but dull And duller, next year, as Guelf chiefs withdrew Each to his stronghold. Then (securely too Ecelin at Campese slept close by, Who likes may see him in Solagna lie With cushioned head and gloved hand to denote The cavalier he was) then his heart smote Yoang Ecelin at last ! long since adult, And, save Vicenza's business, what result In blood and blaze ? ('t was hard to intercept Sordello till his plain withdrawal.) Stept, Then, its new lord on Lombardy. F the nick Of tune when Ecelin and Alberic Closed with Taurello, come precisely news That in Verona half the souls refuse Allegiance to the Marquis and the Count Have cast them from a throne they bid him mount, Their Podestk, thro' his ancestral worth. Ecelin flew there, and the town henceforth Was wholly his Taurello sinking back From temporary station to a track That suited. News received of this acquist, Friedrich did come to Lombardy : who missed Taurello then ? Another year : they took Vicenza, left the Marquis scarce a nook Kor refuge, and, when hundreds two or three 210 SALINGUERRA'S PART LAPSING TO ECELIN, Of Guelfs conspired to call themselves " the Free," Opposing Alberic, vile Bassanese, ("Without Sordello !) Ecelin at ease Slaughtered them so observably, that oft A little Salinguerra looked with soft Blue eyes up, asked his sire the proper age To get appointed his proud uncle's page. More years passed, and that sire had dwindled down To a mere showy turbulent soldier, grown Better through age, his parts still in repute, Subtle how else ? but hardly so astute As his contemporaneous friends professed ; Undoubtedly a brawler : for the rest, Known by each neighbor, and allowed for, let Keep his incorrigible ways, nor fret Men who had missed their boyhood's bugbear " trap The ostrich, suffer our bald osprey flap A battered pinion " was the word. In fine, One flap too much and Venice's marine Was meddled with ; no overlooking that ! She captured him in his Ferrara, fat And florid at a banquet, more by fraud Than force, to speak the truth ; there 's slender laud Ascribed you for assisting eighty years To pull his death on such a man fate shears The life-cord prompt enough whose last fine threads You fritter : so, presiding his board-head. The old smile, your assurance all went well With Friedrich (as if he were like to tell !) WHO, WITH HIS BROTHER, PLAYED IT OUT, 211 In rushed (a plan contrived before) our friends, Made some pretence at fighting, some amends For the shame done his eighty years (apart The principle, none found it in his heart To be much angry with Taurello) gained Their galleys with the prize, and what remained But carry him to Venice for a show ? Set him, as 't were, down gently free to go His gait, inspect our square, pretend observe The swallows soaring their eternal curve Twixt Theodore and Mark, if citizens Gathered importunately, fives and tens, To point their children the Magnifico, All but a monarch once in firm-land, go His gait among them now " it took, indeed, Fully this Ecelin to supersede That man," remarked the seniors. Singular ! Sordello's inability to bar Rivals the stage, that evening, mainly brought About by his strange disbelief that aught Was ever to be done, this thrust the Twain Under Taurello's tutelage, whom, brain And heart and hand, he forthwith in one rod Indissolubly bound to baffle God Who loves the world and thus allowed the thin Gray wizened dwarfish devil Ecelin, And massy-muscled big-boned Alberic (Mere man, alas !) tc put his problem quick To demonstration prove wherever 's will 212 AND WENT HOME DULY TO THEIR REWARD To do, there 's plenty to be done, or ill Or good. Anointed, then, to rend and rip Kings of the gag and flesh-hook, screw and whip, They plagued the world : a touch of Hildebrand (So far from obsolete !) made Lombards band Together, cross their coats as for Chriftt's cause, And saving Milan win the world's applause. Ecelin perished : and I think grass grew Never so pleasant as in Valley Ru By San Zenon where Alberic in turn Saw his exasperated captors burn Seven children and their mother ; then, regaled So far, tied on to a wild horse, was trailed To death through raunce and bramble-bush. I take God's part and testify that mid the brake Wild o'er his castle on the pleasant knoll, You hear its one tower left, a belfry, toll The earthquake spared it last year, laying flat The modern church beneath, no harm in that I Cherups the contumacious grasshopper, Rustles the lizard and the cushats chirre Above the ravage : there, at deep of day A week since, heard I the old Canon say He saw with his own eyes a barrow burst And Alberic's huge skeleton unhearsed Only five years ago. He added, " June 's The month for carding off our first cocoons The silkworms fabricate" a double news, Nor he nor I could tell the worthier. Choose 1 GOOD WILL ILL LUCK, GET SECOND PRIZE. 218 And Naddo gone, all 's gone ; not Eglamor I Believe, I knew the face I waited for, A guest my spirit of the golden courts ! strange to see how, despite ill-reports, Disuse, some wear of years, that face retained Its joyous look of love ! Suns waxed and waned, And still my spirit held an upward flight, Spiral on spiral, gyres of life and light More and more gorgeous ever that face there The last admitted ! crossed, too, with some care As perfect triumph were not sure for all, But, on a few, enduring damp must fall, A transient struggle, haply a painful sense Of the inferior nature's clinging whence Slight starting tears easily wiped away, Fine jealousies soon stifled in the play Of irrepressible admiration not Aspiring, all considered, to their lot Who ever, just as they prepare ascend Spiral on spiral, wish thee well, impend Thy frank delight at their exclusive track, That upturned fervid face and hair put back ! Is there no more to say ? He of the rhymes Many a tale, of this retreat betimes, Was born : Sordello die at once for men ? The Chroniclers of Mantua tired their pen Telling how Sordello Prince Visconti saved Mantua, and elsewhere notably behaved Who thus, by fortune's ordering events. 214 WHAT LEAST ONE MAY I AWARD SORDEULO? Passed with posterity, to all intents, For just the God he never could become. As Knight, Bard, Gallant, men were never dumb In praise of him : while what he should have been, Could be, and was not the one step too mean For him to take, we suffer at this day Because of: Ecelin had pushed away Its chance ere Dante could arrive and take That step Sordello spurned, for the world's sake : He did much but Sordello's chance was gone. Thus, had Sordello dared that step alone, Apollo had been compassed 't was a fit He wished should go to him, not he to it As one content to merely be supposed Singing or fighting elsewhere, while he dozed Really at home one who was chiefly glad To have achieved the few real deeds he had, Because that way assured they were not worth Doing, so spared from doing them henceforth A tree that covets fruitage and yet tastes Never itself, itself: had he embraced Their cause then, men had plucked Hesperian fruit And, praising that, just thrown him in to boot All he was anxious to appear, but scarce Solicitous to be. A sorry farce Such life is, after all ! cannot I say He lived for some one better thing ? this way. Lo, on a heathy brown and nameless hill By sparkling Afeoln, in mist and chill, THIS THAT MUST PERFORCE CONTENT HIM, 215 Morning just up, liigher and higher runs A child barefoot and rosy. She ! the sun 's On the square castle's inner-court's low wall Like the chine of some extinct animal Half turned to earth and flowers ; and through the haze (Save where some slender patches of gray maize Are to be overleaped) that boy has crost The whole hill-side of dew and powder-frost Matting the balm and mountain camomile. Up and up goes he, singing all the while Some unintelligible words to beat The lark, God's poet, swooning at his feet, So worsted is he at " the few fine locks Stained like pale honey oozed from topmost rocks Sunblanched the livelong summer," all that 's left Of the Goito lay ! And thus bereft, Sleep and forget, Sordello ! In effect He sleeps, the feverish poet I suspect Not utterly companionless ; but, friends, Wake up ; the ghost 's gone, and the story ends I 'd fain hope, sweetly seeing, peri or ghoul, That spirits are conjectured fair or foul, Evil or good, judicious authors think, According as they vanish in a stink Or in a perfume. 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