Ts Mine, Then Judge 'Between Us And The Mad Dog Howling There!' Up We All Went Together, In They Broke O' The Chamber Late My Chapel. There She Lay, Composed As When I Laid Her, That Last Eve, O' The Couch, Still Breathless, Motionless, Sleep'S Self, Wax-White, Seraphic, Saturate With The Sun O' The Morning That Now Flooded From The Front And Filled The Window With A Light Like Blood. 'Behold The Poisoner, The Adulteress, 'And Feigning Sleep Too! Seize, Bind!' Guido Hissed. She Started Up, Stood Erect, Face To Face With The Husband: Back He Fell, Was Buttressed There By The Window All A-Flame With Morning-Red, He The Black Figure, The Opprobrious Blur Against All Peace And Joy And Light And Life. 'Away From Between Me And Hell!' She Cried: 'Hell For Me, No Embracing Any More! 'I Am God'S, I Love God, God Whose Knees I Clasp, 'Whose Utterly Most Just Award I Take, 'But Bear No More Love-Making Devils: Hence!' I May Have Made An Effort To Reach Her Side From Where I Stood I' The Door-Way, Anyhow I Found The Arms, I Wanted, Pinioned Fast, Was Powerless In The Clutch To Left And Right O' The Rabble Pouring In, Rascality Enlisted, Rampant On The Side Of Hearth, Home, And The Husband, Pay In Prospect Too! They Heaped Themselves Upon Me. 'Ha! And Him 'Also You Outrage? Him, Too, My Sole Friend, 'Guardian, And Saviour? That I Baulk You Of, 'Since See How God Can Help At Last And Worst!' She Sprung At The Sword That Hung Beside Him, Seized, Drew, Brandished It, The Sunrise Burned For Joy O' The Blade, 'Die,' Cried She, 'Devil, In God'S Name!' Ah, But They All Closed Round Her, Twelve To One, The Unmanly Men, No Woman-Mother Made, Spawned Somehow! Dead-White And Disarmed She Lay. No Matter For The Sword, Her Word Sufficed To Spike The Coward Through And Through: He Shook, Could Only Spit Between The Teeth 'You See? 'You Hear? Bear Witness, Then! Write Down . . . But, No 'Carry These Criminals To The Prison-House, 'For First Thing! I Begin My Search Meanwhile 'After The Stolen Effects, Gold, Jewels, Plate, 'Money, And Clothes, They Robbed Me Of And Fled: 'With No Few Amorous Pieces, Verse And Prose, 'I Have Much Reason To Expect To Find.' When I Saw, That, No More Than The First Mad Speech, Made Out The Speaker Mad And A Laughing-Stock, So Neither Did This Next Device Explode One Listener'S Indignation, That A Scribe Did Sit Down, Set Himself To Write Indeed, And Sundry Knaves Began To Peer And Pry In Corner And Hole, That Guido, Wiping Brow And Getting Him A Countenance, Was Fast Losing His Fear, Beginning To Strut Free O' The Stage Of His Exploit, Snuff Here, Sniff There, I Took The Truth In, Guessed Sufficiently The Service For The Moment 'What I Say, 'Slight At Your Peril! We Are Aliens Here, 'My Adversary And I, Called Noble Both; 'I Am The Nobler, And A Name Men Know. 'I Could Refer Our Cause To Our Own Court 'In Our Own Country, But Prefer Appeal 'To The Nearer Jurisdiction. Being A Priest, 'Though In A Secular Garb, For Reasons Good 'I Shall Adduce In Due Time To My Peers, 'I Demand That The Church I Serve, Decide 'Between Us, Right The Slandered Lady There. 'A Tuscan Noble, I Might Claim The Duke: 'A Priest, I Rather Choose The Church, Bid Rome 'Cover The Wronged With Her Inviolate Shield.' There Was No Refusing This: They Bore Me Off, They Bore Her Off, To Separate Cells O' The Same Ignoble Prison, And, Separate, Thence To Rome. Pompilia'S Face, Then And Thus, Looked On Me The Last Time In This Life: Not One Sight Since, Never Another Sight To Be! And Yet I Thought I Had Saved Her. I Appealed To Rome: It Seems I Simply Sent Her To Her Death. You Tell Me She Is Dying Now, Or Dead; I Cannot Bring Myself To Quite Believe This Is A Place You Torture People In: What If This Your Intelligence Were Just A Subtlety, An Honest Wile To Work On A Man At Unawares? 'Twere Worthy You. No, Sirs, I Cannot Have The Lady Dead! That Erect Form, Flashing Brow, Fulgurant Eye, That Voice Immortal (Oh, That Voice Of Hers!) That Vision In The Blood-Red Day-Break That Leap To Life Of The Pale Electric Sword Angels Go Armed With, That Was Not The Last O' The Lady! Come, I See Through It, You Find Know The Man'Uvre! Also Herself Said I Had Saved Her: Do You Dare Say She Spoke False? Let Me See For Myself If It Be So! Though She Were Dying, A Priest Might Be Of Use, The More When He's A Friend Too, She Called Me Far Beyond 'Friend.' Come, Let Me See Her Indeed It Is My Duty, Being A Priest: I Hope I Stand Confessed, Established, Proved A Priest? My Punishment Had Motive That, A Priest I, In A Laic Garb, A Mundane Mode, Did What Were Harmlessly Done Otherwise. I Never Touched Her With My Finger-Tip Except To Carry Her To The Couch, That Eve, Against My Heart, Beneath My Head, Bowed Low, As We Priests Carry The Paten: That Is Why To Get Leave And Go See Her Of Your Grace I Have Told You This Whole Story Over Again. Do I Deserve Grace? For I Might Lock Lips, Laugh At Your Jurisdiction: What Have You To Do With Me In The Matter? I Suppose You Hardly Think I Donned A Bravo'S Dress To Have A Hand In The New Crime; On The Old, Judgment'S Delivered, Penalty Imposed, I Was Chained Fast At Civita Hand And Foot She Had Only You To Trust To, You And Rome, Rome And The Church, And No Pert Meddling Priest Two Days Ago, When Guido, With The Right, Hacked Her To Pieces. One Might Well Be Wroth; I Have Been Patient, Done My Best To Help: I Come From Civita And Punishment As A Friend Of The Court And For Pure Friendship'S Sake Have Told My Tale To The End, Nay, Not The End For, Wait I'll End Not Leave You That Excuse! When We Were Parted, Shall I Go On There? I Was Presently Brought To Rome Yes, Here I Stood Opposite Yonder Very Crucifix And There Sat You And You, Sirs, Quite The Same, I Heard Charge, And Bore Question, And Told Tale Noted Down In The Book There, Turn And See If, By One Jot Or Tittle, I Vary Now! I' The Colour The Tale Takes, There'S Change Perhaps; 'Tis Natural, Since The Sky Is Different, Eclipse In The Air Now; Still, The Outline Stays. I Showed You How It Came To Be My Part To Save The Lady. Then Your Clerk Produced Papers, A Pack Of Stupid And Impure Banalities Called Letters About Love Love, Indeed, I Could Teach Who Styled Them So. Better, I Think, Though Priest And Loveless Both! 'How Was It That A Wife, Young, Innocent, 'And Stranger To Your Person, Wrote This Page?' 'She Wrote It When The Holy Father Wrote 'The Bestiality That Posts Thro' Rome, 'Put In His Mouth By Pasquin.' 'Nor Perhaps 'Did You Return These Answers, Verse, And Prose, 'Signed, Sealed And Sent The Lady? There'S Your Hand!' 'This Precious Piece Of Verse, I Really Judge 'Is Meant To Copy My Own Character, 'A Clumsy Mimic; And This Other Prose, 'Not So Much Even; Both Rank Forgery: 'verse, Quotha? Bembo'S Verse! When Saint John Wrote 'The Tract 'De Tribus,' I Wrote This To Match.' 'How Came It, Then, The Documents Were Found 'At The Inn On Your Departure?' 'I Opine, 'Because There Were No Documents To Find 'In My Presence, You Must Hide Before You Find. 'Who Forged Them, Hardly Practised In My View; 'Who Found Them, Waited Till I Turned My Back.' 'And What Of The Clandestine Visits Paid, 'Nocturnal Passage In And Out The House 'With Its Lord Absent? 'Tis Alleged You Climbed . . . ' 'Flew On A Broomstick To The Man I' The Moon! 'Who Witnessed Or Will Testify This Trash?' ' The Trusty Servant, Margherita'S Self, 'Even She Who Brought You Letters, You Confess, 'And, You Confess, Took Letters In Reply: 'Forget Not We Have Knowledge Of The Facts!' 'Sirs, Who Have Knowledge Of The Facts, Defray 'The Expenditure Of Wit, I Waste In Vain, 'Trying To Find Out Just One Fact Of All! 'She Who Brought Letters From Who Could Not Write, 'And Took Back Letters To Who Could Not Read, 'Who Was That Messenger, Of Your Charity?' 'Well, So Far Favours You The Circumstance 'That This Same Messenger . . . How Shall We Say? . . . 'Sub Imputatione Meretricis 'Laborat, Which Makes Accusation Null: 'We Waive This Woman'S: Nought Makes Void The Next. 'Borsi, Called Venerino, He Who Drove, 'O' The First Night When You Fled Away, At Length 'Deposes To Your Kissings In The Coach, 'Frequent, Frenetic . . . ' 'When Deposed He So?' 'After Some Weeks Of Sharp Imprisonment . . . ' 'Granted By Friend The Governor, I Engage ' 'For His Participation In Your Flight! 'At Length His Obduracy Melting Made 'The Avowal Mentioned . . . ' 'Was Dismissed Forthwith 'To Liberty, Poor Knave, For Recompense. 'Sirs, Give What Credit To The Lie You Can! 'For Me, No Word In My Defence I Speak, 'And God Shall Argue For The Lady!' So Did I Stand Question, And Make Answer, Still With The Same Result Of Smiling Disbelief, Polite Impossibility Of Faith In Such Affected Virtue In A Priest; But A Showing Fair Play, An Indulgence, Even, To One No Worse Than Others After All Who Had Not Brought Disgrace To The Order, Played Discreetly, Ruffled Gown Nor Ripped The Cloth In A Bungling Game At Romps: I Have Told You, Sirs If I Pretended Simply To Be Pure, Honest, And Christian In The Case, Absurd! As Well Go Boast Myself Above The Needs O' The Human Nature, Careless How Meat Smells, Wine Tastes, A Saint Above The Smack! But Once Abate My Crest, Own Flaws I' The Flesh, Agree To Go With The Herd, Be Hog No More Nor Less, Why, Hogs In Common Herd Have Common Rights I Must Not Be Unduly Borne Upon, Who Had Just Romanced A Little, Sown Wild Oats, But 'Scaped Without A Scandal, Flagrant Fault. My Name Helped To A Mirthful Circumstance: 'Joseph' Would Do Well To Amend His Plea: Undoubtedly Some Toying With The Wife, But As For Ruffian Violence And Rape, Potiphar Pressed Too Much On The Other Side! The Intrigue, The Elopement, The Disguise, Well Charged! The Letters And Verse Looked Hardly Like The Truth. Your Apprehension Was Of Guilt Enough To Be Compatible With Innocence, So, Punished Best A Little And Not Too Much. Had I Struck Guido Franceschini'S Face, You Had Counselled Me Withdraw For My Own Sake, Baulk Him Of Bravo-Hiring. Friends Came Round, Congratulated, 'Nobody Mistakes! 'The Pettiness O' The Forfeiture Defines 'The Peccadillo: Guido Gets His Share: 'His Wife Is Free Of Husband And Hook-Nose, 'The Mouldy Viands And The Mother-In-Law. 'To Civita With You And Amuse The Time, 'Travesty Us 'De Raptu Helen'!' 'A Funny Figure Must The Husband Cut 'When The Wife Makes Him Skip, Too Ticklish, Eh? 'Do It In Latin, Not The Vulgar, Then! 'Scazons We'll Copy And Send His Eminence! 'Mind One Iambus In The Final Foot! 'He'll Rectify It, Be Your Friend For Life!' Oh, Sirs, Depend On Me For Much New Light Thrown On The Justice And Religion Here By This Proceeding, Much Fresh Food For Thought! And I Was Just Set Down To Study These In Relegation, Two Short Days Ago, Admiring How You Read The Rules, When, Clap, A Thunder Comes Into My Solitude I Am Caught Up In A Whirlwind And Cast Here, Told Of A Sudden, In This Room Where So Late You Dealt Out Law Adroitly, That Those Scales, I Meekly Bowed To, Took My Allotment From, Guido Has Snatched At, Broken In Your Hands, Metes To Himself The Murder Of His Wife, Full Measure, Pressed Down, Running Over Now! Can I Assist To An Explanation? Yes, I Rise In Your Esteem, Sagacious Sirs, Stand Up A Renderer Of Reasons, Not The Officious Priest Would Personate Saint George For A Mock Princess In Undragoned Days, What, The Blood Startles You? What, After All The Priest Who Needs Must Carry Sword On Thigh May Find Imperative Use For It? Then, There Was A Princess, Was A Dragon Belching Flame, And Should Have Been A Saint George Also? Then, There Might Be Worse Schemes Than To Break The Bonds At Arezzo, Lead Her By The Little Hand, Till She Reached Rome, And Let Her Try To Live? But You Were The Law And The Gospel, Would One Please Stand Back, Allow Your Faculty Elbow-Room? You Blind Guides Who Must Needs Lead Eyes That See! Fools, Alike Ignorant Of Man And God! What Was There Here Should Have Perplexed Your Wit For A Wink Of The Owl-Eyes Of You? How Miss, Then, What'S Now Forced On You By This Flare Of Fact As If Saint Peter Failed To Recognise Nero As No Apostle, John Or James, Till Someone Burned A Martyr, Make A Torch O' The Blood And Fat To Show His Features By! Could You Fail Read This Cartulary Aright On Head And Front Of Franceschini There, Large-Lettered Like Hell'S Masterpiece Of Print, That He, From The Beginning Pricked At Heart By Some Lust, Letch Of Hate Against His Wife, Plotted To Plague Her Into Overt Sin And Shame, Would Slay Pompilia Body And Soul, And Save His Mean Self Miserably Caught I' The Quagmire Of His Own Tricks, Cheats, And Lies? That Himself Wrote Those Papers, From Himself To Himself, Which, I' The Name Of Me And Her, His Mistress-Messenger Gave Her And Me, Touching Us With Such Pustules Of The Soul That She And I Might Take The Taint, Be Shown To The World And Shuddered Over, Speckled So? That The Agent Put Her Sense Into My Words, Made Substitution Of The Thing She Hoped, For The Thing She Had And Held, Its Opposite, While The Husband In The Background Bit His Lips At Each Fresh Failure Of His Precious Plot? That When At The Last We Did Rush Each On Each, By No Chance But Because God Willed It So The Spark Of Truth Was Struck From Out Our Souls Made All Of Me, Descried In The First Glance, Seem Fair And Honest And Permissible Love O' The Good And True As The First Glance Told Me There Was No Duty Patent In The World Like Daring Try Be Good And True Myself, Leaving The Shows Of Things To The Lord Of Show And Prince O' The Power Of The Air. Our Very Flight, Even To Its Most Ambiguous Circumstance, Irrefragably Proved How Futile, False . . . Why, Men Men And Not Boys Boys And Not Babes Babes And Not Beasts Beasts And Not Stocks And Stones! Had The Liar'S Lie Been True One Pin-Point Speck, Were I The Accepted Suitor, Free O' The Place, Disposer Of The Time, To Come At A Call And Go At A Wink As Who Should Say Me Nay, What Need Of Flight, What Were The Gain Therefrom But Just Damnation, Failure Or Success? Damnation Pure And Simple To Her The Wife And Me The Priest Who Bartered Private Bliss For Public Reprobation, The Safe Shade For The Sunshine Which Men See To Pelt Me By: What Other Advantage, We Who Led The Days And Nights Alone I' The House, Was Flight To Find? In Our Whole Journey Did We Stop An Hour, Diverge A Foot From Strait Road Till We Reached Or Would Have Reached But For That Fate Of Ours The Father And Mother, In The Eye Of Rome, The Eye Of Yourselves We Made Aware Of Us At The First Fall Of Misfortune? And Indeed You Did So Far Give Sanction To Our Flight, Confirm Its Purpose, As Lend Helping Hand, Deliver Up Pompilia Not To Him She Fled, But Those The Flight Was Ventured For. Why Then Could You, Who Stopped Short, Not Go On One Poor Step More, And Justify The Means, Having Allowed The End? Not See And Say, 'Here'S The Exceptional Conduct That Should Claim 'To Be Exceptionally Judged On Rules 'Which, Understood, Make No Exception Here' Why Play Instead Into The Devil'S Hands By Dealing So Ambiguously As Gave Guido The Power To Intervene Like Me, Prove One Exception More? I Saved His Wife Against Law: Against Law He Slays Her Now: Deal With Him! I Have Done With Being Judged. I Stand Here Guiltless In Thought, Word And Deed, To The Point That I Apprise You, In Contempt For All Misapprehending Ignorance O' The Human Heart, Much More The Mind Of Christ, That I Assuredly Did Bow, Was Blessed By The Revelation Of Pompilia. There! Such Is The Final Fact I Fling You, Sirs, To Mouth And Mumble And Misinterpret: There! 'The Priest'S In Love,' Have It The Vulgar Way! Unpriest Me, Rend The Rags O' The Vestment, Do Degrade Deep, Disenfranchise All You Dare Remove Me From The Midst, No Longer Priest And Fit Companion For The Like Of You Your Gay Abati With The Well-Turned Leg And Rose I' The Hat-Rim, Canons, Cross At Neck And Silk Mask In The Pocket Of The Gown, Brisk Bishops With The World'S Musk Still Unbrushed From The Rochet; I'll No More Of These Good Things: There'S A Crack Somewhere, Something That'S Unsound I' The Rattle! For Pompilia Be Advised, Build Churches, Go Pray! You Will Find Me There, I Know, If You Come, And You Will Come, I Know. Why, There'S A Judge Weeping! Did Not I Say You Were Good And True At Bottom? You See The Truth I Am Glad I Helped You: She Helped Me Just So. But For Count Guido, You Must Counsel There! I Bow My Head, Bend To The Very Dust, Break Myself Up In Shame Of Faultiness. I Had Him One Whole Moment, As I Said As I Remember, As Will Never Out O' The Thoughts Of Me, I Had Him In Arm'S Reach There, As You Stand, Sir, Now You Cease To Sit, I Could Have Killed Him Ere He Killed His Wife, And Did Not: He Went Off Alive And Well And Then Effected This Last Feat Through Me! Me Not Through You Dismiss That Fear! 'Twas You Hindered Me Staying Here To Save Her, Not From Leaving You And Going Back To Him And Doing Service In Arezzo. Come, Instruct Me In Procedure! I Conceive In All Due Self-Abasement Might I Speak How You Will Deal With Guido: Oh, Not Death! Death, If It Let Her Life Be: Otherwise Not Death, Your Lights Will Teach You Clearer! I Certainly Have An Instinct Of My Own I' The Matter: Bear With Me And Weigh Its Worth! Let Us Go Away Leave Guido All Alone Back On The World Again That Knows Him Now! I Think He Will Be Found (Indulge So Far!) Not To Die So Much As Slide Out Of Life, Pushed By The General Horror And Common Hate Low, Lower, Left O' The Very Ledge Of Things, I Seem To See Him Catch Convulsively One By One At All Honest Forms Of Life, At Reason, Order, Decency, And Use To Cramp Him And Get Foothold By At Least; And Still They Disengage Them From His Clutch. 'What, You Are He, Then, Had Pompilia Once 'And So Forwent Her? Take Not Up With Us!' And Thus I See Him Slowly And Surely Edged Off All The Table-Land Whence Life Upsprings Aspiring To Be Immortality, As The Snake, Hatched On Hill-Top By Mischance, Despite His Wriggling, Slips, Slides, Slidders Down Hill-Side, Lies Low And Prostrate On The Smooth Level Of The Outer Place, Lapsed In The Vale: So I Lose Guido In The Loneliness, Silence And Dusk, Till At The Doleful End, At The Horizontal Line, Creation'S Verge, From What Just Is To Absolute Nothingness Lo, What Is This He Meets, Strains Onward Still? What Other Man Deep Further In The Fate, Who, Turning At The Prize Of A Footfall To Flatter Him And Promise Fellowship, Discovers In The Act A Frightful Face Judas, Made Monstrous By Much Solitude! The Two Are At One Now! Let Them Love Their Love That Bites And Claws Like Hate, Or Hate Their Hate That Mops And Mows And Makes As It Were Love! There, Let Them Each Tear Each In Devil'S-Fun, Or Fondle This The Other While Malice Aches Both Teach, Both Learn Detestability! Kiss Him The Kiss, Iscariot! Pay That Back, That Snatch O' The Slaver Blistering On Your Lip By The Better Trick, The Insult He Spared Christ Lure Him The Lure O' The Letters, Aretine! Lick Him O'Er Slimy-Smooth With Jelly-Filth O' The Verse-And-Prose Pollution In Love'S Guise! The Cockatrice Is With The Basilisk! There Let Them Grapple, Denizens O' The Dark, Foes Or Friends, But Indissolubly Bound, In Their One Spot Out Of The Ken Of God Or Care Of Man, For Ever And Ever More! Why, Sirs, What'S This? Why, This Is Sorry And Strange! Futility, Divagation: This From Me Bound To Be Rational, Justify An Act Of Sober Man! Whereas, Being Moved So Much, I Give You Cause To Doubt The Lady'S Mind: A Pretty Sarcasm For The World! I Fear You Do Her Wit Injustice, All Through Me! Like My Fate All Through, Ineffective Help! A Poor Rash Advocate I Prove Myself. You Might Be Angry With Good Cause: But Sure At The Advocate, Only At The Undue Zeal That Spoils The Force Of His Own Plea, I Think? My Part Was Just To Tell You How Things Stand, State Facts And Not Be Flustered At Their Fume. But Then 'Tis A Priest Speaks: As For Love, No! If You Let Buzz A Vulgar Fly Like That About Your Brains, As If I Loved, Forsooth, Indeed, Sirs, You Do Wrong! We Had No Thought Of Such Infatuation, She And I: There Are Many Points That Prove It: Do Be Just! I Told You, At One Little Roadside-Place I Spent A Good Half-Hour, Paced To And Fro The Garden; Just To Leave Her Free Awhile, I Plucked A Handful Of Spring Herb And Bloom: I Might Have Sat Beside Her On The Bench Where The Children Were: I Wish The Thing Had Been, Indeed: The Event Could Not Be Worse, You Know: One More Half-Hour Of Her Saved! SHe's Dead Now, Sirs! While I Was Running On At Such A Rate, Friends Should Have Plucked Me By The Sleeve: I Went Too Much O' The Trivial Outside Of Her Face And The Purity That Shone There Plain To Me, Not To You, What More Natural? Nor Am I Infatuated, Oh, I Saw, Be Sure! Her Brow Had Not The Right Line, Leaned Too Much, Painters Would Say; They Like The Straight-Up Greek: This Seemed Bent Somewhat With An Invisible Crown Of Martyr And Saint, Not Such As Art Approves. And How The Dark Orbs Dwelt Deep Underneath, Looked Out Of Such A Sad Sweet Heaven On Me The Lips, Compressed A Little, Came Forward Too, Careful For A Whole World Of Sin And Pain. That Was The Face, Her Husband Makes His Plea, He Sought Just To Disfigure, No Offence Beyond That! Sirs, Let Us Be Rational! He Needs Must Vindicate His Honour, Ay, Yet Shirks, The Coward, In A Clown'S Disguise, Away From The Scene, Endeavours To Escape. Now, Had He Done So, Slain And Left No Trace O' The Slayer, What Were Vindicated, Pray? You Had Found His Wife Disfigured Or A Corpse, For What And By Whom? It Is Too Palpable! Then, Here'S Another Point Involving Law: I Use This Argument To Show You Meant No Calumny Against Us By That Title O' The Sentence, Liars Try To Twist It So: What Penalty It Bore, I Had To Pay Till Further Proof Should Follow Of Innocence Probationis Ob Defectum, Proof? How Could You Get Proof Without Trying Us? You Went Through The Preliminary Form, Stopped There, Contrived This Sentence To Amuse The Adversary. If The Title Ran For More Than Fault Imputed And Not Proved, That Was A Simple Penman'S Error, Else A Slip I' The Phrase, As When We Say Of You 'Charged With Injustice' Which May Either Be Or Not Be, 'Tis A Name That Sticks Meanwhile. Another Relevant Matter: Fool That I Am! Not What I Wish True, Yet A Point Friends Urge: It Is Not True, Yet, Since Friends Think It Helps, She Only Tried Me When Some Others Failed Began With Conti, Whom I Told You Of, And Guillichini, Guido'S Kinsfolk Both, And When Abandoned By Them, Not Before, Turned To Me. That'S Conclusive Why She Turned. Much Good They Got By The Happy Cowardice! Conti Is Dead, Poisoned A Month Ago: Does That Much Strike You As A Sin? Not Much, After The Present Murder, One Mark More On The Moor'S Skin, What Is Black By Blacker Still? Conti Had Come Here And Told Truth. And So With Guillichini; He's Condemned Of Course To The Galleys, As A Friend In This Affair, Tried And Condemned For No One Thing I' The World, A Fortnight Since By Who But The Governor? The Just Judge, Who Refused Pompilia Help At First Blush, Being Her Husband'S Friend, You Know. There Are Two Tales To Suit The Separate Courts, Arezzo And Rome: He Tells You Here, We Fled Alone, Unhelped, Lays Stress On The Main Fault, The Spiritual Sin, Rome Looks To: But Elsewhere He Likes Best We Should Break In, Steal, Bear Off, Be Fit To Brand And Pillory And Flog That'S The Charge Goes To The Heart Of The Governor: If These Unpriest Me, You And I May Yet Converse, Vincenzo Marzi-Medici! Oh, Sirs, There Are Worse Men Than You, I Say! More Easily Duped, I Mean; This Stupid Lie, Its Liar Never Dared Propound In Rome, He Gets Arezzo To Receive, Nay More, Gets Florence And The Duke To Authorise! This Is Their Rota'S Sentence, Their Granduke Signs And Seals! Rome For Me Henceforward Rome, Where Better Men Are, Most Of All, That Man The Augustinian Of The Hospital, Who Writes The Letter, He Confessed, He Says, Many A Dying Person, Never One So Sweet And True And Pure And Beautiful. A Good Man! Will You Make Him Pope One Day? Not That He Is Not Good Too, This We Have But Old, Else He Would Have His Word To Speak, His Truth To Teach The World: I Thirst For Truth, But Shall Not Drink It Till I Reach The Source. Sirs, I Am Quiet Again. You See, We Are So Very Pitiable, She And I, Who Had Conceivably Been Otherwise. Forget Distemperature And Idle Heat! Apart From Truth'S Sake, What'S To Move So Much? Pompilia Will Be Presently With God; I Am, On Earth, As Good As Out Of It, A Relegated Priest; When Exile Ends, I Mean To Do My Duty And Live Long. She And I Are Mere Strangers Now: But Priests Should Study Passion; How Else Cure Mankind, Who Come For Help In Passionate Extremes? I Do But Play With An Imagined Life Of Who, Unfettered By A Vow, Unblessed By The Higher Call, Since You Will Have It So, Leads It Companioned By The Woman There. To Live, And See Her Learn, And Learn By Her, Out Of The Low Obscure And Petty World Or Only See One Purpose And One Will Evolve Themselves I' The World, Change Wrong To Right: To Have To Do With Nothing But The True, The Good, The Eternal And These, Not Alone In The Main Current Of The General Life, But Small Experiences Of Every Day, Concerns Of The Particular Hearth And Home: To Learn Not Only By A Comet'S Rush But A Rose'S Birth, Not By The Grandeur, God But The Comfort, Christ. All This, How Far Away! Mere Delectation, Meet For A Minute'S Dream! Just As A Drudging Student Trims His Lamp, Opens His Plutarch, Puts Him In The Place Of Roman, Grecian; Draws The Patched Gown Close, Dreams, 'Thus Should I Fight, Save Or Rule The World!' Then Smilingly, Contentedly, Awakes To The Old Solitary Nothingness. So I, From Such Communion, Pass Content. . . . O Great, Just, Good God! Miserable Me!