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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,

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Or Heaven has turn'd the malice of his mind
To better uses than his hate design'd;
And made th' insult, which in his gift appears,
The means to mourn thee with my pious tears;
Which I will pay thee down, before I go,
And save myself the pains to weep below,
If souls can weep. Though once I meant to meet
My fate with face unmoved, and eyes unwet,
Yet since I have thee here in narrow room,
My tears shall set thee first afloat within thy
tomb:

675

Then (as I know thy spirit hovers nigh)
Under thy friendly conduct will I fly
To regions unexplored, secure to share
Thy state; nor hell shall punishment appear;
And heaven is double heaven, if thou art there.
She said her brimful eyes, that ready stood, 681
And only wanted will to keep a flood,
Released their watery store, and pour'd amain,
Like clouds low hung, a sober shower of rain;
Mute solemn sorrow, free from female noise,
Such as the majesty of grief destroys;
For, bending o'er the cup, the tears she shed
Seem'd by the posture to discharge her head,
O'er-fill'd before; and (oft her mouth applied
To the cold heart,) she kiss'd at once, and cried.
Her maids, who stood amazed, nor knew the

cause

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691

695

Of her complaining, nor whose heart it was;
Yet all due measures of her mourning kept,
Did office at the dirge, and by infection wept;
And oft enquired the occasion of her grief,
(Unanswer'd but by sighs) and offer'd vain relief.
At length, her stock of tears already shed,
She wiped her eyes, she raised her drooping head,
And thus pursued: Oh ever faithful heart,
I have perform'd the ceremonial part,

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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

Of all the cities in Romanian lands,

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

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
To advance his suit, the farther from her love.
Wearied at length, and wanting remedy,
He doubted oft, and oft resolved to die.
But pride stood ready to prevent the blow,
For who would die to gratify a foe?
His generous mind disdain'd so mean a fate;
That pass'd, his next endeavour was to hate.
But vainer that relief than all the rest,
The less he hoped, with more desire possess'd;
Love stood the siege, and would not yield his
breast.

30

75

80

To walk within a lonely lawn, that stood
On every side surrounded by a wood:
Alone he walk'd, to please his pensive mind,
And sought the deepest solitude to find;
'Twas in a grove of spreading pines he stray'd;
The winds within the quivering branches play'd,
And dancing trees a mournful music made.
The place itself was suiting to his care,
Uncouth and savage, as the cruel fair.
He wander'd on, unknowing where he went,
Lost in the wood, and all on love intent :
The day already half his race had run,
And summon'd him to due repast at noon;
But love could feel no hunger but his own.
Whilst listening to the murmuring leaves he
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;
A sudden horror seized his giddy head,
And his ears tinkled, and his colour fled;
Nature was in alarm; some danger nigh
Seem'd threaten'd, though unseen to mortal eye.
Unused to fear, he summon'd all his soul,
And stood collected in himself, and whole;
Not long for soon a whirlwind rose around,
And from afar he heard a screaming sound,
As of a dame distress'd, who cried for aid,
And fill'd with loud laments the secret shade.
A thicket close beside the grove there stood,
With briers and brambles choked, and dwarfish
wood;

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,
And oft their fasten'd fangs in blood imbrued;
Oft they came up, and pinch'd her tender side, 115
Mercy, O mercy, Heaven! she ran, and cried;
When Heaven was named, they loosed their hold
again,

Then sprung she forth, they follow'd her amain.
Not far behind, a knight of swarthy face,
High on a coal-black steed pursued the chase; 120
With flashing flames his ardent eyes were fill'd,
And in his hand a naked sword he held:
He cheer'd the dogs to follow her who fled,
And vow'd revenge on her devoted head.

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,
My name and story some remember yet:
Thee, then a boy, within my arms I laid,
When for my sins I loved this haughty maid;
Not less adored in life, nor served by me,
Than proud Honoria now is loved by thee.
What did I not her stubborn heart to gain!
But all my vows were answer'd with disdain: 150
She scorn'd my sorrows, and despised my pain.
Long time I dragg'd my days in fruitless care;
Then loathing life, and plunged in deep despair,
To finish my unhappy life, I fell

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,
Should suffer from my hands a lingering pain: 173
Renew'd to life that she might daily die,
I daily doom'd to follow, she to fly;
No more a lover, but a mortal foe,

180

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

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

Nor lies she long, but as her fates ordain,
Springs up to life, and fresh to second pain,
Is saved to-day, to-morrow to be slain.

This, versed in death, the infernal knight relates,

196

900

And then for proof fulfill'd the common fates; 199
Her heart and bowels through her back he drew,
And fed the hounds that help'd him to pursue.
Stern look'd the fiend, as frustrate of his will,
Not half sufficed, and greedy yet to kill.
And now the soul, expiring through the wound.
Had left the body breathless on the ground,
When thus the grisly spectre spoke again:
Behold the fruit of ill-rewarded pain:
As many months as I sustain'd her hate,
So many years is she condemn'd by fate
To daily death; and every several place
Conscious of her disdain, and my disgrace,
Must witness her just punishment; and be
A scene of triumph and revenge to me.
As in this grove I took my last farewell,
As on this very spot of earth I fell,
As Friday saw me die, so she my prey
Becomes ev'n here, on this revolving day.
Thus while he spoke, the virgin from the
ground

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200

Upstarted fresh, already closed the wound,
And, unconcern'd for all she felt before,
Precipitates her flight along the shore:
The hell-hounds, as ungorged with flesh and blood,
Pursue their prey, and seek their wonted food:
The fiend remounts his courser, mends his pace,
And all the vision vanish'd from the place.

216

225

He would have been asleep, and wish'd to wake;
But dreams, he knew, no long impression make,
Though strong at first; if vision, to what end,
But such as must his future state portend?
His love the damsel, and himself the fiend.
But yet reflecting that it could not be
From Heaven, which cannot impious acts decree,
Resolved within himself to shun the snare,
Which hell for his destruction did prepare;
And as his better genius should direct,
From an ill cause to draw a good effect.

230

Inspired from Heaven, he homeward took his way,

Nor pall'd his new design with long delay:
But of his train a trusty servant sent,
To call his friends together at his tent.
They came, and usual salutations paid,
With words premeditated thus he said:
What you have often counsell'd, to remove
My vain pursuit of unregarded love,
By thrift my sinking fortune to repair,
Though late, yet is at last become my care:
My heart shall be my own; my vast expense
Reduced to bounds, by timely providence;
This only I require; invite for me
Honoria, with her father's family,

235

240

244

Her friends, and mine; the cause I shall display,
On Friday next; for that's the appointed day.
Well pleased were all his friends; the task was
light;

The father, mother, daughter, they invite;
Hardly the dame was drawn to this repast;
But yet resolved, because it was the last.
The day was come, the guests invited came,
And, with the rest, the inexorable dame:
A feast prepared with riotous expense,
Much cost, more care, and most magnificence.
The place ordain'd was in that haunted grove,
Where the revenging ghost pursued his love:
The tables in a proud pavilion spread,
With flowers below, and tissue overhead:
The rest in rank, Honoria chief in place,
Was artfully contrived to set her face

250

255

260

Loud was the noise, aghast was every guest,
The women shriek'd, the men forsook the feast;
The hounds at nearer distance hoarsely bay'd;
The hunter close pursued the visionary maid; 80
She rent the heaven with loud laments, im-
ploring aid.

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.

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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.
Her guilt presents to her distracted mind
Heaven's justice, Theodore's revengeful kind,
And the same fate to the same sin assign'd;
Already sees herself the monster's prey,
And feels her heart and entrails torn away.
'Twas a mute scene of sorrow, mix'd with fear;
Still on the table lay the unfinish'd cheer:
The knight and hungry mastiffs stood around,
The mangled dame lay breathless

ground;

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325

on the

350

354

That sting infix'd within her haughty mind,
The downfal of her empire she divined;
And her proud heart with secret sorrow pined.
Home as they went, the sad discourse renew'd,
Of the relentless dame to death pursued,
And of the sight obscene so lately view'd.
None durst arraign the righteous doom she bore;
Ev'n they who pitied most, yet blamed her more:
The parallel they needed not to name,
But in the dead they damn'd the living dame.
At every little noise she look'd behind,
For still the knight was present to her mind: 360
And anxious oft she started on the way,
And thought the horseman-ghost came thunder-
ing for his prey.

365

Return'd she took her bed with little rest,
But in short slumbers dreamt the funeral feast:
Awaked, she turn'd her side, and slept again;
The same black vapours mounted in her brain,
And the same dreams return'd with double pain.
Now forced to wake, because afraid to sleep,
Her blood all fever'd, with a furious leap
She sprung from bed, distracted in her mind, 370
And fear'd, at every step, a twitching spright behind.
Darkling and desperate, with a staggering pace,
Of death afraid, and conscious of disgrace;
Fear, pride, remorse, at once her heart assail'd,
Pride put remorse to flight, but fear prevail'd. 375
Friday, the fatal day, when next it came,

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,
That desperate any succour else to find,

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41

So had another been, where he his vows address'd
This quell'd her pride, yet other doubts remain'd,
That once disdaining, she might be disdain'd
The fear was just, but greater fear prevail'd,
Fear of her life by hellish hounds assail'd:
He took a lowering leave; but who can tell
What outward hate might inward love conceal!
Her sex's arts she knew, and why not, then,
Might deep dissembling have a place in men?
Here hope began to dawn; resolved to try,
She fix'd on this her utmost remedy;
Death was behind, but hard it was to die.
'Twas time enough at last on death to call,
The precipice in sight: a shrub was all
That kindly stood betwixt to break the fatal fall.
One maid she had beloved above the rest;
Secure of her, the secret she confess'd;
And now the cheerful light her fears dispell'd,
She with no winding turns the truth conceal'd,
But put the woman off, and stood reveal'd:
With faults confess'd commission'd her to go,
If pity yet had place, and reconcile her foe;
The welcome message made, was soon received;
'Twas to be wish'd, and hoped, but scarce believed;
Fate seem'd a fair occasion to present,
He knew the sex, and fear'd she might repent, 45
Should he delay the moment of consent.
There yet remain'd to gain her friends (a care
The modesty of maidens well might spare);
But she with such a zeal the cause embraced,
(As women, where they will, are all in haste,)
The father, mother, and the kin beside,
Were overborne by fury of the tide;
With full consent of all, she changed her state;
Resistless in her love, as in her hate.
By her example warn'd, the rest beware;
More easy, less imperious, were the fair;
And that one hunting, which the devil design'd
For one fair female, lost him half the kind.

410

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,

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