650 The messenger despatch'd, again she view'd The loved remains, and sighing thus pursued: Source of my life, and lord of my desires, In whom I lived, with whom my soul expires, Poor heart, no more the spring of vital heat, Cursed be the hands that tore thee from thy seat! The course is finish'd which thy fates decreed, 655 And thou from thy corporeal prison freed: Soon hast thou reach'd the goal with mended pace, A world of woes despatch'd in little space. Forced by thy worth, thy foe, in death become Thy friend, has lodged thee in a costly tomb. There yet remain'd thy funeral exequies, The weeping tribute of thy widow's eyes, And those, indulgent Heaven has found the way That I, before my death, have leave to pay. My father ev'n in cruelty is kind, 660 665 670 Or Heaven has turn'd the malice of his mind 675 Then (as I know thy spirit hovers nigh) cause 685 691 695 Of her complaining, nor whose heart it was; 700 716 725 This done, she mounts the genial bed, and there (Her body first composed with honest care) Attends the welcome rest; her hands yet hold Close to her heart the monumental gold; Nor farther word she spoke, but closed her sight, And quiet sought the covert of the night. The damsels, who the while in silence mourn'd, Not knowing, nor suspecting death suborn'd, Yet, as their duty was, to Tancred sent: Who, conscious of the occasion, fear'd the event. Alarm'd, and with presaging heart, he came, And drew the curtains, and exposed the dame To loathsome light: then with a late relief Made vain efforts to mitigate her grief. She, what she could, excluding day, her eyes Kept firmly seal'd, and sternly thus replies: Tancred, restrain thy tears, unsought by me, And sorrow unavailing now to thee: Did ever man before afflict his mind To see the effect of what himself design'd? Yet, if thou hast remaining in thy heart Some sense of love, some unextinguish'd part Of former kindness, largely once profess'd, Let me by that adjure thy harden'd breast Not to deny thy daughter's last request: The secret love which I so long enjoy'd, And still conceal'd to gratify thy pride, Thou hast disjoin'd; but, with my dying breath, Seek not, I beg thee, to disjoin our death; Where'er his corpse by thy command is laid, 740 Thither let mine in public be convey'd ; Exposed in open view, and side by side, Acknowledged as a bridegroom and a bride. 730 735 The prince's anguish hinder'd his reply: And she, who felt her fate approaching nigh, 7 Seized the cold heart, and heaving to her breast, Here, precious pledge, she said, securely rest: These accents were her last; the creeping death Benumb'd her senses first, then stopp'd her breath. Thus she for disobedience justly died: The sire was justly punish'd for his pride: The youth, least guilty, suffer'd for the offence Of duty violated to his prince; Who, late repenting of his cruel deed, One common sepulchre for both decreed; Intomb'd the wretched pair in royal state, And on their monument inscribed their fate. 750 753 2 THEODORE AND HONORIA.* Of all the cities in Romanian lands, The chief, and most renown'd, Ravenna stands, 5 10 This noble youth to madness loved a dame, Of high degree, Honoria was her name; Fair as the fairest, but of haughty mind, And fiercer than became so soft a kind; Proud of her birth; (for equal she had none ;) The rest she scorn'd; but hated him alone; His gifts, his constant courtship, nothing gain'd; 15 For she, the more he loved, the more disdain'd. He lived with all the pomp he could devise, At tilts and tournaments obtain'd the prize; But found no favour in his lady's eyes: Relentless as a rock, the lofty maid Turn'd all to poison that he did or said: 20 Nor prayers, nor tears, nor offer'd vows, could move; 25 The work went backward; and, the more he strove 30 75 80 To walk within a lonely lawn, that stood More than a mile immersed within the wood, 85 Ver. 88. Whilst listening] The next fifteen lines, which so strongly paint the sensations of a man upon the sudden approach of some strange, mysterious, and supernatural danger, may be produced, among many others, as a specimen of the high poetical improvements our author has given to the original story; for the passage that furnished this animated picture is only this in Boccacio, literally translated. "In this forest Theodore, walking on solitary, and musing all alone, had now wandered a mile's distance from his tents and company, entered into a grove of pine-trees, not regarding the time of the repast that was prepared for him, or any thing else but the unkind requital of his love. Suddenly he heard the voice of a woman seeming to make most mournful complaints, which breaking off his silent meditations, made him lift up his head, to discover the reason of this noise."-Boccacio, Nov. 8, First Day. Dr. J. WARTON. At once the wind was laid; the whispering sound 90 Was dumb; a rising earthquake rock'd the ground; 95 With deeper brown the grove was overspread; 100 From thence the noise, which now approaching Her face, her hands, her naked limbs were torn, With passing through the brakes and prickly thorn; Two mastiffs gaunt and grim her flight pursued, Then sprung she forth, they follow'd her amain. 125 130 As Theodore was born of noble kind, The brutal action roused his manly mind; Moved with unworthy usage of the maid, He, though unarm'd, resolved to give her aid. A sapling pine he wrench'd from out the ground, The readiest weapon that his fury found. Thus furnish'd for offence, he cross'd the way Betwixt the graceless villain and his prey. The knight came thundering on, but, from afar, Thus in imperious tone forbade the war: Cease, Theodore, to proffer vain relief, Nor stop the vengeance of so just a grief; But give me leave to seize my destined prey And let eternal justice take the way: I but revenge my fate, disdain'd, betray'd, And suffering death for this ungrateful maid. 140 He said, at once dismounting from the steed; For now the hell-hounds, with superior speed, Had reach'd the dame, and fastening on her side, The ground with issuing streams of purple died. Stood Theodore surprised in deadly fright, With chattering teeth, and bristling hair upright; Yet arm'd with inborn worth, Whate'er, said he, Thou art, who know'st me better than I thee; Or prove thy rightful cause, or be defied. The spectre, fiercely staring, thus replied: Know, Theodore, thy ancestry I claim, And Guido Cavalcanti was my name. 145 150 155 One common sire our fathers did beget, 154 On this sharp sword, and now am damn'd in hell. Short was her joy; for soon the insulting maid By Heaven's decree in the cold grave was laid. And, as in unrepented sin she died, Doom'd to the same bad place, is punish'd for her pride; Because she deem'd I well deserved to die, 170 And made a merit of her cruelty. There, then, we met; both tried, and both were cast, And this irrevocable sentence pass'd: That she, whom I so long pursued in vain, 180 I seek her life (for love is none below): Which, with her entrails, makes my hungry hounds a feast. Nor lies she long, but as her fates ordain, This, versed in death, the infernal knight relates, 196 900 And then for proof fulfill'd the common fates; 199 205 200 Upstarted fresh, already closed the wound, 216 1 225 He would have been asleep, and wish'd to wake; 230 Inspired from Heaven, he homeward took his way, Nor pall'd his new design with long delay: 235 240 244 Her friends, and mine; the cause I shall display, The father, mother, daughter, they invite; 250 255 260 Loud was the noise, aghast was every guest, 285 200 The gallants, to protect the lady's right, Their fauchions brandish'd at the grisly spright; High on his stirrups he provoked the fight. Then on the crowd he cast a furious look, And wither'd all their strength before he strook : Back, on your lives, let be, said he, my prey, And let my vengeance take the destined way: Vain are your arms, and vainer your defence, Against the eternal doom of Providence : Mine is the ungrateful maid by Heaven design'd: Mercy she would not give, nor mercy shall she find. At this the former tale again he told With thundering tone, and dreadful to behold: Sunk were their hearts with horror of the crime, Nor needed to be warn'd a second time, But bore each other back: some knew the face, And all had heard the much-lamented case Of him who fell for love, and this the fatal place. 296 300 305 And now the infernal minister advanced, Seized the due victim, and with fury lanced Her back, and piercing through her inmost heart, Drew backward as before the offending part. The reeking entrails next he tore away, And to his meagre mastiffs made a prey. The pale assistants on each other stared, With gaping mouths for issuing words prepared; The still-born sounds upon the palate hung, And died imperfect on the faltering tongue. The fright was general; but the female band 310 (A helpless train) in more confusion stand: With horror shuddering, on a heap they run, Sick at the sight of hateful justice done; For conscience rung the alarm, and made the case their own. 315 So spread upon a lake, with upward eye, A plump of fowl behold their foe on high; They close their trembling troop; and all attend On whom the sousing eagle will descend. But most the proud Honoria fear'd the event, And thought to her alone the vision sent. ground; 320 325 on the 350 354 That sting infix'd within her haughty mind, 365 Return'd she took her bed with little rest, Her soul forethought the fiend would change his game, And her pursue, or Theodore be slain, And two ghosts join their packs to hunt her o'er the plain. This dreadful image so possess'd her mind, 380 41 So had another been, where he his vows address'd 410 CYMON AND IPHIGENIA. POETA LOQUITUR. OLD as I am, for ladies' love unfit, The power of beauty I remember yet, Suppose him free, and that I forge the offence, He show'd the way, perverting first my sense: In malice witty, and with venom fraught, Which once inflamed my soul, and still inspires He makes me speak the things I never thought. my wit. If love be folly, the severe divine Has felt that folly, though he censures mine; Pollutes the pleasures of a chaste embrace, Acts what I write, and propagates in grace, With riotous excess, a priestly race. Compute the gains of his ungovern'd zeal; Ill suits his cloth the praise of railing well. 30 5 The world will think that what we loosely write, |