Pure, 'I Catch You Making God Command Eve Sin! 'A Blasphemy So Like These Molinists', 'I Must Suspect You Dip Into Their Books.' Then He Pursued ''Twas In Your Covenant!' No! There My Husband Never Used Deceit. He Never Did By Speech Nor Act Imply 'Because Of Our Souls' Yearning That We Meet 'And Mix In Soul Through Flesh, Which Yours And Mine 'Wear And Impress, And Make Their Visible Selves, 'All Which Means, For The Love Of You And Me, 'Let Us Become One Flesh, Being One Soul!' He Only Stipulated For The Wealth; Honest So Far. But When He Spoke As Plain Dreadfully Honest Also 'Since Our Souls 'Stand Each From Each, A Whole World'S Width Between, 'Give Me The Fleshy Vesture I Can Reach 'And Rend And Leave Just Fit For Hell To Burn!' Why, In God'S Name, For Guido'S Soul'S Own Sake Imperilled By Polluting Mine, I Say, I Did Resist; Would I Had Overcome! My Heart Died Out At The Archbishop'S Smile; It Seemed So Stale And Worn A Way O' The World, As Though 'Twere Nature Frowning 'Here Is Spring, 'The Sun Shines As He Shone At Adam'S Fall, 'The Earth Requires That Warmth Reach Everywhere: 'What, Must Your Patch Of Snow Be Saved Forsooth 'Because You Rather Fancy Snow Than Flowers?' Something In This Style He Began With Me. Last He Said, Savagely For A Good Man, 'This Explains Why You Call Your Husband Harsh, 'Harsh To You, Harsh To Whom You Love. God'S Bread! 'The Poor Count Has To Manage A Mere Child 'Whose Parents Leave Untaught The Simplest Things 'Their Duty Was And Privilege To Teach, 'Goodwives' Instruction, Gossips' Lore: They Laugh 'And Leave The Count The Task, Or Leave It Me!' Then I Resolved To Tell A Frightful Thing. 'I Am Not Ignorant, Know What I Say, 'Declaring This Is Sought For Hate, Not Love. 'Sir, You May Hear Things Like Almighty God. 'I Tell You That My Housemate, Yes The Priest 'My Husband'S Brother, Canon Girolamo 'Has Taught Me What Depraved And Misnamed Love 'Means, And What Outward Signs Denote The Sin, 'For He Solicits Me And Says He Loves, 'The Idle Young Priest With Nought Else To Do. 'My Husband Sees This, Knows This, And Lets Be. 'Is It Your Counsel I Bear This Beside?' 'More Scandal, And Against A Priest This Time! 'What, 'Tis The Canon Now?' Less Snappishly 'Rise Up, My Child, For Such A Child You Are, 'The Rod Were Too Advanced A Punishment! 'Let'S Try The Honeyed Cake. A Parable! ''Without A Parable Spake He Not To Them.' ' 'There Was A Ripe Round Long Black Toothsome Fruit, 'Even A Flower-Fig, The Prime Boast Of May: 'And, To The Tree, Said . . . Either The Spirit O' The Fig, 'Or, If We Bring In Men, The Gardener, 'Archbishop Of The Orchard Had I Time 'To Try O' The Two Which Fits In Best: Indeed 'It Might Be The Creator'S Self, But Then 'The Tree Should Bear An Apple, I Suppose, 'Well, Anyhow, One With Authority Said ''Ripe Fig, Burst Skin, Regale The Fig-Pecker ''The Bird Whereof Thou Art A Perquisite!' ''Nay,' With A Flounce, Replied The Restif Fig, ''I Much Prefer To Keep My Pulp Myself: ''He May Go Breakfastless And Dinnerless, ''Supperless Of One Crimson Seed, For Me!' 'So, Back She Flopped Into Her Bunch Of Leaves. 'He Flew Off, Left Her, Did The Natural Lord, 'And Lo, Three Hundred Thousand Bees And Wasps 'Found Her Out, Feasted On Her To The Shuck: 'Such Gain The Fig'S That Gave Its Bird No Bite! 'The Moral, Fools Elude Their Proper Lot, 'Tempt Other Fools, Get Ruined All Alike. 'Therefore Go Home, Embrace Your Husband Quick! 'Which If His Canon Brother Chance To See, 'He Will The Sooner Back To Book Again.' So, Home I Did Go; So, The Worst Befell: So, I Had Proof The Archbishop Was Just Man, And Hardly That, And Certainly No More. For, Miserable Consequence To Me, My Husband'S Hatred Waxed Nor Waned At All, His Brother'S Boldness Grew Effrontery Soon, And My Last Stay And Comfort In Myself Was Forced From Me: Henceforth I Looked To God Only, Nor Cared My Desecrated Soul Should Have Fair Walls, Gay Windows For The World. God'S Glimmer, That Came Through The Ruin-Top, Was Witness Why All Lights Were Quenched Inside: Henceforth I Asked God Counsel, Not Mankind. So, When I Made The Effort, Saved Myself, They Said 'No Care To Save Appearance Here! 'How Cynic, When, How Wanton, Were Enough!' Adding, It All Came Of My Mother'S Life My Own Real Mother, Whom I Never Knew, Who Did Wrong (If She Needs Must Have Done Wrong) Through Being All Her Life, Not My Four Years, At Mercy Of The Hateful, Every Beast O' The Field Was Wont To Break That Fountain-Fence, Trample The Silver Into Mud So Murk Heaven Could Not Find Itself Reflected There, Now They Cry 'Out On Her, Who, Plashy Pool, 'Bequeathed Turbidity And Bitterness 'To The Daughter-Stream Where Guido Dipt And Drank!' Well, Since She Had To Bear This Brand Let Me! The Rather Do I Understand Her Now, From My Experience Of What Hate Calls Love, Much Love Might Be In What Their Love Called Hate. If She Sold . . . What They Call, Sold . . . Me Her Child I Shall Believe She Hoped In Her Poor Heart That I At Least Might Try Be Good And Pure, Begin To Live Untempted, Not Go Doomed And Done With Ere Once Found In Fault, As She. Oh And, My Mother, It All Came To This? Why Should I Trust Those That Speak Ill Of You, When I Mistrust Who Speaks Even Well Of Them? Why, Since All Bound To Do Me Good, Did Harm, May Not You, Seeming As You Harmed Me Most, Have Meant To Do Most Good And Feed Your Child From Bramble-Bush, Whom Not One Orchard-Tree But Drew-Back Bough From, Nor Let One Fruit Fall? This It Was For You Sacrificed Your Babe? Gained Just This, Giving Your Heart'S Hope Away As I Might Give Mine, Loving It As You, If . . . But That Never Could Be Asked Of Me! There, Enough! I Have My Support Again, Again The Knowledge That My Babe Was, Is, Will Be Mine Only. Him, By Death, I Give Outright To God, Without A Further Care, But Not To Any Parent In The World, So To Be Safe: Why Is It We Repine? What Guardianship Were Safer Could We Choose? All Human Plans And Projects Come To Nought, My Life, And What I Know Of Other Lives, Prove That: No Plan Nor Project! God Shall Care! And Now You Are Not Tired? How Patient Then All Of You, Oh Yes, Patient This Long While Listening, And Understanding, I Am Sure! Four Days Ago, When I Was Sound And Well And Like To Live, No One Would Understand. People Were Kind, But Smiled 'And What Of Him, 'Your Friend, Whose Tonsure, The Rich Dark-Brown Hides? 'There, There! Your Lover, Do We Dream He Was? 'A Priest Too Never Were Such Naughtiness! 'Still, He Thinks Many A Long Think, Never Fear, 'After The Shy Pale Lady, Lay So Light 'For A Moment In His Arms, The Lucky One!' And So On: Wherefore Should I Blame You Much? So We Are Made, Such Difference In Minds, Such Difference Too In Eyes That See The Minds! That Man, You Misinterpret And Misprise The Glory Of His Nature, I Had Thought, Shot Itself Out In White Light, Blazed The Truth Through Every Atom Of His Act With Me: Yet Where I Point You, Through The Chrystal Shrine, Purity In Quintessence, One Dew-Drop, You All Descry A Spider In The Midst. One Says, 'The Head Of It Is Plain To See,' And One, 'They Are The Feet By Which I Judge,' All Say, 'Those Films Were Spun By Nothing Else.' Then, I Must Lay My Babe Away With God, Nor Think Of Him Again, For Gratitude. Yes, My Last Breath Shall Wholly Spend Itself In One Attempt More To Disperse The Stain, The Mist From Other Breath Fond Mouths Have Made, About A Lustrous And Pellucid Soul: So That, When I Am Gone But Sorrow Stays, And People Need Assurance In Their Doubt If God Yet Have A Servant, Man A Friend, The Weak A Saviour And The Vile A Foe, Let Him Be Present, By The Name Invoked, Giuseppe-Maria Caponsacchi! There, Strength Comes Already With The Utterance! I Will Remember Once More For His Sake The Sorrow: For He Lives And Is Belied. Could He Be Here, How He Would Speak For Me! I Had Been Miserable Three Drear Years In That Dread Palace And Lay Passive Now, When I First Learned There Could Be Such A Man. Thus It Fell: I Was At A Public Play, In The Last Days Of Carnival Last March, Brought There I Knew Not Why, But Now Know Well. My Husband Put Me Where I Sat, In Front; Then Crouched Down, Breathed Cold Through Me From Behind, Stationed I' The Shadow, None In Front Could See, I, It Was, Faced The Stranger-Throng Beneath, The Crowd With Upturned Faces, Eyes One Stare, Voices One Buzz. I Looked But To The Stage, Whereon Two Lovers Sang And Interchanged 'True Life Is Only Love, Love Only Bliss: 'I Love Thee Thee I Love!' Then They Embraced. I Looked Thence To The Ceiling And The Walls, Over The Crowd, Those Voices And Those Eyes, My Thoughts Went Through The Roof And Out, To Rome On Wings Of Music, Waft Of Measured Words, Set Me Down There, A Happy Child Again, Sure That To-Morrow Would Be Festa-Day, Hearing My Parents Praise Past Festas More, And Seeing They Were Old If I Was Young, Yet Wondering Why They Still Would End Discourse With 'We Must Soon Go, You Abide Your Time, 'And, Might We Haply See The Proper Friend 'Throw His Arm Over You And Make You Safe!' Sudden I Saw Him; Into My Lap There Fell A Foolish Twist Of Comfits, Broke My Dream And Brought Me From The Air And Laid Me Low, As Ruined As The Soaring Bee That'S Reached (So Pietro Told Me At The Villa Once) By The Dust-Handful. There The Comfits Lay: I Looked To See Who Flung Them, And I Faced This Caponsacchi, Looking Up In Turn. Ere I Could Reason Out Why, I Felt Sure, Whoever Flung Them, His Was Not The Hand, Up Rose The Round Face And Good-Natured Grin Of Him Who, In Effect, Had Played The Prank, From Covert Close Beside The Earnest Face, Fat Waggish Conti, Friend Of All The World. He Was My Husband'S Cousin, Privileged To Throw The Thing: The Other, Silent, Grave, Solemn Almost, Saw Me, As I Saw Him. There Is A Psalm Don Celestine Recites, 'Had I A Dove'S Wings, How I Fain Would Flee!' The Psalm Runs Not 'I Hope, I Pray For Wings,' Not 'If Wings Fall From Heaven, I Fix Them Fast,' Simply 'How Good It Were To Fly And Rest, 'Have Hope Now, And One Day Expect Content! 'How Well To Do What I Shall Never Do!' So I Said 'Had There Been A Man Like That, 'To Lift Me With His Strength Out Of All Strife 'Into The Calm, How I Could Fly And Rest! 'I Have A Keeper In The Garden Here 'Whose Sole Employment Is To Strike Me Low 'If Ever I, For Solace, Seek The Sun. 'Life Means With Me Successful Feigning Death, 'Lying Stone-Like, Eluding Notice So, 'Forgoing Here The Turf And There The Sky. 'Suppose That Man Had Been Instead Of This!' Presently Conti Laughed Into My Ear, Had Tripped Up To The Raised Place Where I Sat 'Cousin, I Flung Them Brutishly And Hard! 'Because You Must Be Hurt, To Look Austere 'As Caponsacchi Yonder, My Tall Friend 'A-Gazing Now. Ah, Guido, You So Close? 'Keep On Your Knees, Do! Beg Her To Forgive! 'My Cornet Battered Like A Cannon-Ball. 'Good Bye, I'M Gone!' Nor Waited The Reply. That Night At Supper, Out My Husband Broke, 'Why Was That Throwing, That Buffoonery? 'Do You Think I Am Your Dupe? What Man Would Dare 'Throw Comfits In A Stranger Lady'S Lap? ''Twas Knowledge Of You Bred Such Insolence 'In Caponsacchi; He Dared Shoot The Bolt, 'Using That Conti For His Stalking-Horse. 'How Could You See Him This Once And No More, 'When He Is Always Haunting Hereabout 'At The Street-Corner Or The Palace-Side, 'Publishing My Shame And Your Impudence? 'You Are A Wanton, I A Dupe, You Think? 'O Christ, What Hinders That I Kill Her Quick?' Whereat He Drew His Sword And Feigned A Thrust. All This, Now, Being Not So Strange To Me, Used To Such Misconception Day By Day And Broken-In To Bear, I Bore, This Time, More Quietly Than Woman Should Perhaps: Repeated The Mere Truth And Held My Tongue. Then He Said, 'Since You Play The Ignorant, 'I Shall Instruct You. This Amour, Commenced 'Or Finished Or Midway In Act, All'S One, ''Tis The Town-Talk; So My Revenge Shall Be. 'Does He Presume Because He Is A Priest? 'I Warn Him That The Sword I Wear Shall Pink 'His Lily-Scented Cassock Through And Through, 'Next Time I Catch Him Underneath Your Eaves!' But He Had Threatened With The Sword So Oft And, After All, Not Kept His Promise. All I Said Was, 'Let God Save The Innocent! 'Moreover, Death Is Far From A Bad Fate. 'I Shall Go Pray For You And Me, Not Him; 'And Then I Look To Sleep, Come Death Or, Worse, 'Life.' So, I Slept. There May Have Elapsed A Week, When Margherita, Called My Waiting-Maid, Whom It Is Said My Husband Found Too Fair Who Stood And Heard The Charge And The Reply, Who Never Once Would Let The Matter Rest From That Night Forward, But Rang Changes Still On This The Thrust And That The Shame, And How Good Cause For Jealousy Cures Jealous Fools, And What A Paragon Was This Same Priest She Talked About Until I Stopped My Ears, She Said, 'A Week Is Gone; You Comb Your Hair, 'Then Go Mope In A Corner, Cheek On Palm, 'Till Night Comes Round Again, So, Waste A Week 'As If Your Husband Menaced You In Sport. 'Have Not I Some Acquaintance With His Tricks? 'Oh No, He Did Not Stab The Serving-Man 'Who Made And Sang The Rhymes About Me Once! 'For Why? They Sent Him To The Wars Next Day. 'Nor Poisoned He The Foreigner, My Friend, 'Who Wagered On The Whiteness Of My Breast, 'The Swarth Skins Of Our City In Dispute: 'For, Though He Paid Me Proper Compliment, 'The Count Well Knew He Was Besotted With 'Somebody Else, A Skin As Black As Ink, '(As All The Town Knew Save My Foreigner) 'He Found And Wedded Presently, 'Why Need ''Better Revenge?' The Count Asked. But What'S Here? 'A Priest, That Does Not Fight, And Cannot Wed, 'Yet Must Be Dealt With! If The Count Took Fire 'For The Poor Pastime Of A Minute, Me 'What Were The Conflagration For Yourself, 'Countess And Lady-Wife And All The Rest? 'The Priest Will Perish; You Will Grieve Too Late: 'So Shall The City-Ladies' Handsomest, 'Frankest And Liberalest Gentleman 'Die For You, To Appease A Scurvy Dog 'Hanging'S Too Good For. Is There No Escape? 'Were It Not Simple Christian Charity 'To Warn The Priest Be On His Guard, Save Him 'Assured Death, Save Yourself From Causing It? 'I Meet Him In The Street. Give Me A Glove, 'A Ring To Show For Token! Mum'S The Word!' I Answered, 'If You Were, As Styled, My Maid, 'I Would Command You: As You Are, You Say, 'My Husband'S Intimate, Assist His Wife 'Who Can Do Nothing But Entreat 'Be Still!' 'Even If You Speak Truth And A Crime Is Planned, 'Leave Help To God As I Am Forced To Do! 'There Is No Other Course, Or We Should Craze, 'Seeing Such Evil With No Human Cure. 'Reflect That God, Who Makes The Storm Desist, 'Can Make An Angry Violent Heart Subside. 'Why Should We Venture Teach Him Governance? 'Never Address Me On This Subject More!' 'Ay, Saw Your Caponsacchi In His House, 'And Come Back Stuffed With News I Must Outpour. 'I Told Him, 'Sir, My Mistress Is A Stone: ''Why Should You Harm Her For No Good You Get? ''For You Do Harm Her Prowl About Our Place ''With The Count Never Distant Half The Street, ''Lurking At Every Corner, Would You Look! '''Tis Certain She Has Witched You With A Spell. ''Are There Not Other Beauties At Your Beck? ''We All Know, Donna This And Monna That ''Die For A Glance Of Yours, Yet Here You Gaze! ''Go Make Them Grateful, Leave The Stone Its Cold!' 'And He Oh, He Turned First White And Then Red, 'And Then 'To Her Behest I Bow Myself, ''Whom I Love With My Body And My Soul: ''Only, A Word I' The Bowing! See, I Write ''One Little Word, No Harm To See Or Hear! ''Then, Fear No Further!' This Is What He Wrote. 'I Know You Cannot Read, Therefore, Let Me! ''My Idol!'' . . . But I Took It From Her Hand And Tore It Into Shreds. 'Why Join The Rest 'Who Harm Me? Have I Ever Done You Wrong? 'People Have Told Me 'Tis You Wrong Myself: 'Let It Suffice I Either Feel No Wrong 'Or Else Forgive It, Yet You Turn My Foe! 'The Others Hunt Me And You Throw A Noose!' She Muttered, 'Have Your Wilful Way!' I Slept. Whereupon . . . No, I Leave My Husband Out! It Is Not To Do Him More Hurt, I Speak. Let It Suffice, When Misery Was Most, One Day, I Swooned And Got A Respite So. She Stooped As I Was Slowly Coming To, This Margherita, Ever On My Trace, And Whispered 'Caponsacchi!' If I Drowned, But Woke Afloat I' The Wave With Upturned Eyes, And Found Their First Sight Was A Star! I Turned For The First Time, I Let Her Have Her Will, Heard Passively, 'The Imposthume At Such Head, 'One Touch, One Lancet-Puncture Would Relieve, 'And Still No Glance The Good Physician'S Way 'Who Rids You Of The Torment In A Trice! 'Still He Writes Letters You Refuse To Hear. 'He May Prevent Your Husband, Kill Himself, 'So Desperate And All Foredone Is He! 'Just Hear The Pretty Verse He Made To-Day! 'A Sonnet From Mirtillo. 'Peerless Fair . . . ' 'All Poetry Is Difficult To Read, 'The Sense Of It Is, Anyhow, He Seeks 'Leave To Contrive You An Escape From Hell, 'And For That Purpose Asks An Interview. 'I Can Write, I Can Grant It In Your Name, 'Or, What Is Better, Lead You To His House. 'Your Husband Dashes You Against The Stones; 'This Man Would Place Each Fragment In A Shrine: 'You Hate Him, Love Your Husband!' I Returned, 'It Is Not True I Love My Husband, No, 'Nor Hate This Man. I Listen While You Speak, 'Assured That What You Say Is False, The Same: 'Much As When Once, To Me A Little Child, 'A Rough Gaunt Man In Rags, With Eyes On Fire, 'A Crowd Of Boys And Idlers At His Heels, 'Rushed As I Crossed The Square, And Held My Head 'In His Two Hands, 'Here'S She Will Let Me Speak! ''You Little Girl, Whose Eyes Do Good To Mine, ''I Am The Pope, Am Sextus, Now The Sixth; ''And That Twelfth Innocent, Proclaimed To-Day, ''Is Lucifer Disguised In Human Flesh! ''The Angels, Met In Conclave, Crowned Me!' Thus 'He Gibbered And I Listened; But I Knew 'All Was Delusion, Ere Folks Interposed ''Unfasten Him, The Maniac!' Thus I Know 'All Your Report Of Caponsacchi False, 'Folly Or Dreaming; I Have Seen So Much 'By That Adventure At The Spectacle, 'The Face I Fronted That One First, Last Time: 'He Would Belie It By Such Words And Thoughts. 'Therefore While You Profess To Show Him Me, 'I Ever See His Own Face. Get You Gone!' 'That Will I, Nor Once Open Mouth Again, 'No, By Saint Joseph And The Holy Ghost! 'On Your Head Be The Damage, So Adieu!' And So More Days, More Deeds I Must Forget, Till . . . What A Strange Thing Now Is To Declare! Since I Say Anything, Say All If True! And How My Life Seems Lengthened As To Serve! It May Be Idle Or Inopportune, But, True? Why, What Was All I Said But Truth, Even When I Found That Such As Are Untrue Could Only Take The Truth In Through A Lie? Now I Am Speaking Truth To The Truth'S Self: God Will Lend Credit To My Words This Time. It Had Got Half Through April. I Arose One Vivid Daybreak, Who Had Gone To Bed In The Old Way My Wont Those Last Three Years, Careless Until, The Cup Drained, I Should Die. The Last Sound In My Ear, The Over-Night, Had Been A Something Let Drop On The Sly In Prattle By Margherita, 'Soon Enough 'Gaieties End, Now Easter'S Past: A Week, 'And The Archbishop Gets Him Back To Rome, 'Everyone Leaves The Town For Rome, This Spring, 'Even Caponsacchi, Out Of Heart And Hope, 'Resigns Himself And Follows With The Flock.' I Heard This Drop And Drop Like Rain Outside Fast-Falling Through The Darkness While She Spoke: So Had I Heard With Like Indifference, 'And Michael'S Pair Of Wings Will Arrive First 'At Rome To Introduce The Company, 'Will Bear Him From Our Picture Where He Fights 'Satan, Expect To Have That Dragon Loose 'And Never A Defender!' My Sole Thought Being Still, As Night Came, 'Done, Another Day! 'How Good To Sleep And So Get Nearer Death!' When, What, First Thing At Daybreak, Pierced The Sleep With A Summons To Me? Up I Sprang Alive, Light In Me, Light Without Me, Everywhere Change! A Broad Yellow Sun-Beam Was Let Fall From Heaven To Earth, A Sudden Drawbridge Lay, Along Which Marched A Myriad Merry Motes, Mocking The Flies That Crossed Them And Recrossed In Rival Dance, Companions New-Born Too. On The House-Eaves, A Dripping Shag Of Weed Shook Diamonds On Each Dull Grey Lattice-Square, As First One, Then Another Bird Leapt By, And Light Was Off, And Lo Was Back Again, Always With One Voice, Where Are Two Such Joys? The Blessed Building-Sparrow! I Stepped Forth, Stood On The Terrace, O'Er The Roofs, Such Sky! My Heart Sang, 'I Too Am To Go Away, 'I Too Have Something I Must Care About, 'Carry Away With Me To Rome, To Rome! 'The Bird Brings Hither Sticks And Hairs And Wool, 'And Nowhere Else I' The World; What Fly Breaks Rank, 'Falls Out Of The Procession That Befits, 'From Window Here To Window There, With All 'The World To Choose, So Well He Knows His Course? 'I Have My Purpose And My Motive Too, 'My March To Rome, Like Any Bird Or Fly! 'Had I Been Dead! How Right To Be Alive! 'Last Night I Almost Prayed For Leave To Die, 'Wished Guido All His Pleasure With The Sword 'Or The Poison, Poison, Sword, Was But A Trick, 'Harmless, May God Forgive Him The Poor Jest! 'My Life Is Charmed, Will Last Till I Reach Rome! 'Yesterday, But For The Sin, Ah, Nameless Be 'The Deed I Could Have Dared Against Myself! 'Now See If I Will Touch An Unripe Fruit, 'And Risk The Health I Want To Have And Use! 'Not To Live, Now, Would Be The Wickedness, 'For Life Means To Make Haste And Go To Rome 'And Leave Arezzo, Leave All Woes At Once!' Now, Understand Here, By No Means Mistake! Long Ago Had I Tried To Leave That House When It Seemed Such Procedure Would Stop Sin; And Still Failed More The More I Tried At First The Archbishop, As I Told You, Next, Our Lord The Governor, Indeed I Found My Way, I Went To The Great Palace Where He Rules, Though I Knew Well 'Twas He Who, When I Gave A Jewel Or Two, Themselves Had Given Me, Back To My Parents, Since They Wanted Bread, They Who Had Never Let Me Want A Nosegay, He Spoke Of The Jail For Felons, If They Kept What Was First Theirs, Then Mine, So Doubly Theirs, Though All The While My Husband'S Most Of All! I Knew Well Who Had Spoke The Word Wrought This: Yet, Being In Extremity, I Fled To The Governor, As I Say, Scarce Opened Lip When The Cold Cruel Snicker Close Behind Guido Was On My Trace, Already There, Exchanging Nod And Wink For Shrug And Smile, And I Pushed Back To Him And, For My Pains, Paid With . . . But Why Remember What Is Past? I Sought Out A Poor Friar The People Call The Roman, And Confessed My Sin Which Came Of Their Sin, That Fact Could Not Be Repressed, The Frightfulness Of My Despair In God: And, Feeling, Through The Grate, His Horror Shake, Implored Him, 'Write For Me Who Cannot Write, 'Apprise My Parents, Make Them Rescue Me! 'You Bid Me Be Courageous And Trust God: 'Do You In Turn Dare Somewhat, Trust And Write ''Dear Friends, Who Used To Be My Parents Once, ''And Now Declare You Have No Part In Me, ''This Is Some Riddle I Want Wit To Solve, ''Since You Must Love Me With No Difference. ''Even Suppose You Altered, There'S Your Hate, ''To Ask For: Hate Of You Two Dearest Ones ''I Shall Find Liker Love Than Love Found Here, ''If Husbands Love Their Wives. Take Me Away ''And Hate Me As You Do The Gnats And Fleas, ''Even The Scorpions! How I Shall Rejoice!' 'Write That And Save Me!' And He Promised Wrote Or Did Not Write; Things Never Changed At All: He Was Not Like The Augustinian Here! Last, In A Desperation I Appealed To Friends, Whoever Wished Me Better Days, To Guillichini, That'S Of Kin, 'What, I 'Travel To Rome With You? A Flying Gout 'Bids Me Deny My Heart And Mind My Leg!' Then I Tried Conti, Used To Brave Laugh Back The Louring Thunder When His Cousin Scowled At Me Protected By His Presence: 'You 'Who Well Know What You Cannot Save Me From, 'Carry Me Off! What Frightens You, A Priest?' He Shook His Head, Looked Grave 'Above My Strength! 'Guido Has Claws That Scratch, Shows Feline Teeth; 'A Formidabler Foe Than I Dare Fret: 'Give Me A Dog To Deal With, Twice The Size! 'Of Course I Am A Priest And Canon Too, 'But . . . By The Bye . . . Though Both, Not Quite So Bold 'As He, My Fellow-Canon, Brother-Priest, 'The Personage In Such Ill Odour Here 'Because Of The Reports Pure Birth O' The Brain 'Our Caponsacchi, He'S Your True Saint George 'To Slay The Monster, Set The Princess Free, 'And Have The Whole High-Altar To Himself: 'I Always Think So When I See That Piece 'I' The Pieve, That'S His Church And Mine, You Know: 'Though You Drop Eyes At Mention Of His Name!' That Name Had Got To Take A Half-Grotesque Half-Ominous, Wholly Enigmatic Sense, Like Any Bye-Word, Broken Bit Of Song Born With A Meaning, Changed By Mouth And Mouth That Mix It In A Sneer Or Smile, As Chance Bids, Till It Now Means Nought But Ugliness And Perhaps Shame. All This Intends To Say, That, Over-Night, The Notion Of Escape Had Seemed Distemper, Dreaming; And The Name, Not The Man, But The Name Of Him, Thus Made Into A Mockery And Disgrace, Why, She Who Uttered It Persistently, Had Laughed, 'I Name His Name, And There You Start And Wince 'As Criminal From The Red Tongs' Touch!' Yet Now, Now, As I Stood Letting Morn Bathe Me Bright, Choosing Which Butterfly Should Bear My News, The White, The Brown One, Or That Tinier Blue, The Margherita, I Detested So, In She Came 'The Fine Day, The Good Spring Time! 'What, Up And Out At Window? That Is Best. 'No Thought Of Caponsacchi? Who Stood There 'All Night On One Leg, Like The Sentry Crane, 'Under The Pelting Of Your Water-Spout 'Looked Last Look At Your Lattice Ere He Leave 'Our City, Bury His Dead Hope At Rome? 'Ay, Go To Looking-Glass And Make You Fine, 'While He May Die Ere Touch One Least Loose Hair 'You Drag At With The Comb In Such A Rage!' I Turned 'Tell Caponsacchi He May Come!' 'Tell Him To Come? Ah, But, For Charity, 'A Truce To Fooling! Come? What, Come This Eve? 'Peter And Paul! But I See Through The Trick 'Yes, Come, And Take A Flower-Pot On His Head 'Flung From Your Terrace! No Joke, Sincere Truth?' How Plainly I Perceived Hell Flash And Fade O' The Face Of Her, The Doubt That First Paled Joy, Then, Final Reassurance I Indeed Was Caught Now, Never To Be Free Again! What Did I Care? Who Felt Myself Of Force To Play With The Silk, And Spurn The Horsehair-Springe. 'But Do You Know That I Have Bade Him Come, 'And In Your Own Name? I Presumed So Much, 'Knowing The Thing You Needed In Your Heart. 'But Somehow What Had I To Show In Proof? 'He Would Not Come: Half-Promised, That Was All, 'And Wrote The Letters You Refused To Read. 'What Is The Message That Shall Move Him Now? 'After The Ave Maria, At First Dark, 'I Will Be Standing On The Terrace, Say! 'I Would I Had A Good Long Lock Of Hair 'Should Prove I Was Not Lying! Never Mind!' Off She Went 'May He Not Refuse, That'S All 'Fearing A Trick!' I Answered, 'He Will Come.' And, All Day, I Sent Prayer Like Incense Up To God The Strong, God The Beneficent, God Ever Mindful In All Strife And Strait, Who, For Our Own Good, Makes The Need Extreme, Till At The Last He Puts Forth Might And Saves. An Old Rhyme Came Into My Head And Rang Of How A Virgin, For The Faith Of God, Hid Herself, From The Paynims That Pursued, In A Cave'S Heart; Until A Thunderstone, Wrapped In A Flame, Revealed The Couch And Prey: And They Laughed 'Thanks To Lightning, Ours At Last!' And She Cried 'Wrath Of God, Assert His Love! 'Servant Of God, Thou Fire, Befriend His Child!' And Lo, The Fire She Grasped At, Fixed Its Flash, Lay In Her Hand A Calm Cold Dreadful Sword She Brandished Till Pursuers Strewed The Ground, So Did The Souls Within Them Die Away, As O'Er The Prostrate Bodies, Sworded, Safe, She Walked Forth To The Solitudes And Christ: So Should I Grasp The Lightning And Be Saved! And Still, As The Day Wore, The Trouble Grew Whereby I Guessed There Would Be Born A Star, Until At An Intense Throe Of The Dusk, I Started Up, Was Pushed, I Dare To Say, Out On The Terrace, Leaned And Looked At Last Where The Deliverer Waited Me: The Same Silent And Solemn Face, I First Descried At The Spectacle, Confronted Mine Once More. So Was That Minute Twice Vouchsafed Me, So The Manhood, Wasted Then, Was Still At Watch To Save Me Yet A Second Time: No Change Here, Though All Else Changed In The Changing World! I Spoke On The Instant, As My Duty Bade, In Some Such Sense As This, Whatever The Phrase. 'Friend, Foolish Words Were Borne From You To Me; 'Your Soul Behind Them Is The Pure Strong Wind, 'Not Dust And Feathers Which Its Breath May Bear: 'These To The Witless Seem The Wind Itself, 'Since Proving Thus The First Of It They Feel. 'If By Mischance You Blew Offence My Way, 'The Straws Are Dropt, The Wind Desists No Whit, 'And How Such Strays Were Caught Up In The Street 'And Took A Motion From You, Why Inquire? 'I Speak To The Strong Soul, No Weak Disguise. 'If It Be Truth, Why Should I Doubt It Truth? 'You Serve God Specially, As Priests Are Bound, 'And Care About Me, Stranger As I Am, 'So Far As Wish My Good, That Miracle 'I Take To Intimate He Wills You Serve 'By Saving Me, What Else Can He Direct? 'Here Is The Service. Since A Long While Now, 'I Am In Course Of Being Put To Death: 'While Death Concerned Nothing But Me, I Bowed 'The Head And Bade, In Heart, My Husband Strike. 'Now I Imperil Something More, It Seems, 'Something That'S Trulier Me Than This Myself, 'Something I Trust In God And You To Save. 'You Go To Rome, They Tell Me: Take Me There, 'Put Me Back With My People!' He Replied The First Word I Heard Ever From His Lips, All Himself In It, An Eternity Of Speech, To Match The Immeasurable Depths O' The Soul That Then Broke Silence 'I Am Yours.' So Did The Star Rise, Soon To Lead My Step, Lead On, Nor Pause Before It Should Stand Still Above The House O' The Babe, My Babe To Be, That Knew Me First And Thus Made Me Know Him, That Had His Right Of Life And Claim On Mine, And Would Not Let Me Die Till He Was Born, But Pricked Me At The Heart To Save Us Both, Saying 'Have You The Will? Leave God The Way!' And The Way Was Caponsacchi 'Mine,' Thank God! He Was Mine, He Is Mine, He Will Be Mine. No Pause I' The Leading And The Light! I Know, Next Night There Was A Cloud Came, And Not He: But I Prayed Through The Darkness Till It Broke And Let Him Shine. The Second Night, He Came. 'The Plan Is Rash; The Project Desperate: 'In Such A Flight Needs Must I Risk Your Life, 'Give Food For Falsehood, Folly Or Mistake, 'Ground For Your Husband'S Rancour And Revenge' So He Began Again, With The Same Face. I Felt That, The Same Loyalty One Star Turning Now Red That Was So White Before One Service Apprehended Newly: Just A Word Of Mine And There The White Was Back! 'No, Friend, For You Will Take Me! 'Tis Yourself 'Risk All, Not I, Who Let You, For I Trust 'In The Compensating Great God: Enough! 'I Know You: When Is It That You Will Come?' 'To-Morrow At The Day'S Dawn.' Then I Heard What I Should Do: How To Prepare For Flight And Where To Fly. That Night My Husband Bade 'You, Whom I Loathe, Beware You Break My Sleep 'This Whole Night! Couch Beside Me Like The Corpse 'I Would You Were!' The Rest You Know, I Think How I Found Caponsacchi And Escaped. And This Man, Men Call Sinner? Jesus Christ! Of Whom Men Said, With Mouths Thyself Mad'St Once, 'He Hath A Devil' Say He Was Thy Saint, My Caponsacchi! Shield And Show Unshroud In Thine Own Time The Glory Of The Soul If Aught Obscure, If Ink-Spot, From Vile Pens Scribbling A Charge Against Him (I Was Glad Then, For The First Time, That I Could Not Write) Flirted His Way, Have Flecked The Blaze! For Me, 'Tis Otherwise: Let Men Take, Sift My Thoughts Thoughts I Throw Like The Flax For Sun To Bleach! I Did Think, Do Think, In The Thought Shall Die, That To Have Caponsacchi For My Guide, Ever The Face Upturned To Mine, The Hand Holding My Hand Across The World, A Sense That Reads, As Only Such Can Read, The Mark God Sets On Women, Signifying So She Should Shall Peradventure Be Divine; Yet 'Ware, The While, How Weakness Mars The Print And Makes Confusion, Leaves The Thing Men See, Not This Man, Who From His Own Soul, Re-Writes The Obliterated Charter, Love And Strength Mending What'S Marred: 'So Kneels A Votarist, 'Weeds Some Poor Waste Traditionary Plot 'Where Shrine Once Was, Where Temple Yet May Be, 'Purging The Place But Worshipping The While, 'By Faith And Not By Sight, Sight Clearest So, 'Such Way The Saints Work,' Says Don Celestine. But I, Not Privileged To See A Saint Of Old When Such Walked Earth With Crown And Palm, If I Call 'Saint' What Saints Call Something Else The Saints Must Bear With Me, Impute The Fault To A Soul I' The Bud, So Starved By Ignorance, Stinted Of Warmth, It Will Not Blow This Year Nor Recognise The Orb Which Spring-Flowers Know. But If Meanwhile Some Insect With A Heart Worth Floods Of Lazy Music, Spendthrift Joy Some Fire-Fly Renounced Spring For My Dwarfed Cup, Crept Close To Me With Lustre For The Dark, Comfort Against The Cold, Wha