Burningly it came on me all at once,

This was the place! those two hills on the right,

Crouched like two bulls locked horn in horn in fight;

While to the left, a tall scalped mountain... Dunce,

Dotard, a-dozing at the very nonce,

After a life spent training for the sight!

What 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 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.

Were 't not for God, I mean, what hope of

truth

Speaking truth, hearing truth, would stay with man?

I, now the homeless friendless penniless Proscribed and exiled wretch who speak to

you,

Ought to speak truth, yet could not, for my death,

(The thing that tempts me most) help speaking lies

About your friendship and Luitolfo's courage
And all our townsfolk's equanimity -
Through sheer incompetence to rid myself
Of the old miserable lying trick

Caught from the liars I have lived with, God,
Did I not turn to thee! It is thy prompting
I dare to be ashamed of, and thy counsel
Would die along my coward lip, I know.
But I do turn to thee. This craven tongue,
These features which refuse the soul its way,
Reclaim thou! Give me truth - truth, power

to speak

And after be sole present to approve The spoken truth! Or, stay, that spoken truth, Who knows but you, too, may approve?

Eu.

Ah, well

You would hear,

Keep silence then, Chiappino!

Ch.

You shall now, why the thing we please to

style

My gratitude to you and all your friends

For service done me, is just gratitude
So much as yours was service: no whit more.
I was born here, so was Luitolfo; both
At one time, much with the same circumstance
Of rank and wealth; and both, up to this night
Of parting company, have side by side
Still fared, he in the sunshine I, the shadow.
Why?" asks the world. Because," replies

the world

To its complacent self, "these playfellows,
Who took at church the holy-water drop
Each from the other's finger, and so forth,
Were of two moods: Luitolfo was the proper
Friend-making, everywhere friend-finding soul,
Fit for the sunshine, so, it followed him.
A happy-tempered bringer of the best

Out of the worst; who bears with what 's past

cure,

And puts so good a face on 't-wisely passive Where action 's fruitless, while he remedies In silence what the foolish rail against; A man to smooth such natures as parade Of opposition must exasperate; No general gauntlet-gatherer for the weak Against the strong, yet over-scrupulous At lucky junctures; one who won't forego The after-battle work of binding wounds, Because, forsooth he 'd have to bring himself To side with wound-inflictors for their leave! - Why do you gaze, nor help me to repeat What comes so glibly from the common mouth, About Luitolfo and his so-styled friend?

Eu. Because, that friend's sense is obscured

Ch.

I thought

You would be readier with the other half
Of the world's story, my half! Yet, 't is true.
For all the world does say it. Say your worst!
True, I thank God, I ever said “* you sin,"
When a man did sin: if I could not say it,
I glared it at him; if I could not glare it,

66

me

I prayed against him; then my part seemed over. God's may begin yet: so it will, I trust. Eu. If the world outraged you, did we? Ch. That you use well or ill? It 's man, in me, What's All your successes are an outrage to, You all, whom sunshine follows, as you say! Here's our Faenza birthplace; they send here A provost from Ravenna: how he rules, You can at times be eloquent about. "Then, end his rule!"-" Ah yes, one stroke does that!

But patience under wrong works slow and sure. Must violence still bring peace forth?

beside,

He,

Returns so blandly one's obeisance! ah-
Some latent virtue may be lingering yet,
Some human sympathy which, once excite,
And all the lump were leavened quietly:
So, no more talk of striking, for this time!"
But I, as one of those he rules, won't bear
These pretty takings-up and layings-down
Our cause, just as you think occasion suits.
Enough of earnest, is there? You'll play, will
you?

Diversify your tactics, give submission,
Obsequiousness and flattery a turn,

curse

eyes,

part, I:

my

burst.

I

wrongs

This talk and so shall end this talk. I say,
Was 't not enough that I must strive (I saw)
To grow so far familiar with your charms
As next contrive some way to win them - which
To do, an age seemed far too brief- for, see!
We all aspire to heaven; and there lies heaven
Above us go there! Dare we go? no, surely !
How dare we go without a reverent pause,
A growing less unfit for heaven? Just so,
I dared not speak: the greater fool, it seems!
Was 't not enough to struggle with such folly,
But I must have, beside, the very man
Whose slight free loose and incapacious soul
Gave his tongue scope to say whate'er he would
Must have him load me with his benefits
- For fortune's fiercest stroke?
Eu.
Justice to him
That's now entreating, at his risk perhaps,
Justice for you! Did he once call those acts
Of simple friendship - bounties, benefits?

Ch. No: the straight course had been to call them thus.

Then, I had flung them back, and kept myself Unhampered, free as he to win the prize

We both sought. But "the gold was dross," he said:

"He loved me, and I loved him not: why spurn

A trifle out of superfluity?

He had forgotten he had done as much." So had not I! Henceforth, try as I could To take him at his word, there stood by you My benefactor; who might speak and laugh And urge his nothings, even banter me Before you - but my tongue was tied. dream! Let's wake: your husband . . . how you shake at that!

A

Eu. Why should I shake? What forced Or forces me to be Luitolfo's bride?

Ch. There's my revenge, that nothing

forces you.

No gratitude, no liking of the eye

Nor longing of the heart, but the poor bond
Of habit-here so many times he came,
So much he spoke, all these compose the tie
That pulls you from me. Well, he paid my
fines,

Nor missed a cloak from wardrobe, dish from table;

He spoke a good word to the Provost here,
Held me up when my fortunes fell away,

It had not looked so well to let me drop, Men take pains to preserve a tree-stump, even, Whose boughs they played beneath-much more a friend.

But one grows tired of seeing, after the first, Pains spent upon impracticable stuff

Like me. I could not change: you know the rest:

I've spoke my mind too fully out, by chance,
This morning to our Provost; so, ere night
I leave the city on pain of death. And now
On my account there 's gallant intercession
Goes forward-that 's so graceful! - and anon
He'll noisily come back the intercession
Was made and fails; all's over for us both;

:

Eu. As we.

Ch. Now, I'll say something to remember. I trust in nature for the stable laws Of beauty and utility. - Spring shall plant, And Autumn garner to the end of time: I trust in God—the right shall be the right And other than the wrong, while he endures: I trust in my own soul, that can perceive The outward and the inward, nature's good And God's: so, seeing these men and myself, Having a right to speak, thus do I speak. I'll not curse God bears with them, well

may I

slaves,

Luitolfo!

Eu. Ch.

How he knocks!

Yes,

I beg!

Take the north gate, -for San Vitale's suburb,
Whose double taxes you appealed against,
In discomposure at your ill-success

Is apt to stone you: there, there - only go!
Beside, Eulalia here looks sleepily.

Shake oh, you hurt me, so you squeeze my wrist!"

- Is it not thus you'll speak, adventurous friend?

[As he opens the door, LUITOLFO rushes in, his garments disordered.

Eu. Luitolfo ! Blood?
Luitolfo. There's more-

Eulalia
and more of it!
take the garment! No-you, friend!
You take it and the blood from me- you dare!
Eu. Oh, who has hurt you? where's the
wound?

Ch. "Who," say you? The man with many a touch of virtue yet! The Provost's friend has proved too frank of

speech,

And this comes of it. Miserable hound!
This comes of temporizing, as I said!

Here's fruit of your smooth speeches and soft looks!

Now see my way! As God lives, I go straight
To the palace and do justice, once for all!
Luit. What says he?

I'll do justice on him.

Him?

Ch. Luit.

Ch. The Provost.

Luit.

I've just killed him.

Eu.

they 'll have me

Luit. My friend, they 're on now!

Oh, my God! my trace;

They're round him, busy with him:

they 'll find

soon

He's past their help, and then they 'll be on

me!

Chiappino, save Eulalia! I forget . .

Were you not bound for

Ch.

Luit.

...

Lugo? Ah

-yes- yes!

You meant to tell the Provost thus and thus. But you never said Luit. Why should I say it? What else did

I mean?
Ch. Well? He persisted?
Luit.
You should not trouble him too soon again."
Would so order it
I saw a meaning in his eye and lip;

I poured my heart's store of indignant words
Out on him: then
And I .
I know not! He retorted,
some staff lay there to hand — Î

think
He bade his servants thrust me
struck