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Updated: May 29, 2025
Erminia's Chamber; prithee let me know, For I have fears that take away my sleep, Fears that will make me mad, stark mad, Pisaro. Pis. You do not well to fear without a cause. Alcip. O Friend, I saw what thou canst ne'er conceive; Last night I saw it when I came from thee: And if thou go'st about t'impose upon me, I'll cast thee from my Soul.
What though there lurks behind yon veil of sky Some fabled Maker, some immortal Spy, Ready to torture each poor thing he made? Thou canst do more than God can. Thou canst die. Will not the thunders of thy God be dumb When thou art deaf for ever? Can the sum Of all things bruise what is not? Nay, take heart, For where thou go'st thither no God can come.
Thou go'st home to thy house anon, And there, as dumb as any stone, Thou sittest at another book, Till fully dazed is thy look; And liv'st thus as a hermit quite, Although thy abstinence is slight.
All those who come To visit them, bear gifts away, and give Them praises. Why should they reside in town Where everything's with price of silver bought?" The city girl replied: "Oh, Bedouine, Thou dost forget all that thou hast to do. Thou go'st from house to house, with artichokes And mallows, oyster-plants, and such, Thy garments soaked all through and through with grease.
'O gracious creature and benign! who go'st Visiting, through this element obscure, Us, who the world with bloody stain imbrued, If, for a friend, the King of all, we own'd, Our prayer to him should for thy peace arise, Since thou hast pity on our evil plight Of whatsoe'er to hear or to discourse It pleases thee, that will we hear, of that Freely with thee discourse, while e'er the wind As now is mute The land that gave me birth Is situate on the coast, where Po descends To rest in ocean with his sequent streams 'Love that in gentle heart is quickly learnt Entangled him by that fair form, from me Ta'en in such cruel sort, as grieves me still, Love that denial takes from none beloved Caught me with pleasing him so passing well That as thou seest, he yet deserts me not 'Love brought us to one death, Caina waits The soul who spilt our life' Such were their words, At hearing which downward I bent my looks And held them there so long that the bard cried 'What art thou pondering? I in answer thus 'Alas' by what sweet thoughts, what fond desire Must they at length to that ill pass have reached' Then turning, I to them my speech address'd, And thus began 'Francesca! your sad fate Even to tears my grief and pity moves But tell me, in the time of your sweet sighs, By what, and how Love granted, that ye knew Your yet uncertain wishes? She replied 'No greater grief then to remember days Of joy when misery is at hand That kens Thy learn'd instructor Yet so eagerly If thou art bent to know the primal root From whence our love gat being, I will do As one who weeps and tells his tale One day For our delight we read of Lancelot, How him love thrall'd Alone we were and no Suspicion near us Oft-times by that reading Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue Fled from our altered cheek But at one point Alone we fell When of that smile we read, That wished smile, so rapturously kissed By one so deep in love, then he, who ne'er From me shall separate, at once my lips All trembling kissed The book and writer both Were love's purveyors In its leaves that day We read no more' While thus one spirit spake The other wailed so sorely, that heart-struck I, through compassion fainting, seem'd not far From death and like a corse fell to the ground"
"He is gone who when to his gate thou go'st, * Fed thy famisht maw with his boiled and roast." When he had ended his verse he said, "By Allah, there is no help but that I make trial of them all: perchance there be one amongst them who will stand me in the stead of all the rest."
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