Canto X

The car of Night had passed the circling- line
Which separates dark Africa from Spain,
And still the glorious count, though stretched supine,
Continued sleepless, turning in his brain
Constantly how, with bravery divine,
He fought, and managed such renown to gain,
Since, through his happy stars, he had o'erthrown
The enchanted knight, the honour all his own.

Then dwelling on the cause that had inspired
Melindo to ascend the fabulous boat,
He felt both worthy of the shield acquired
And of the beautiful damsel; for his thought
Was ever on himself, himself he admired,
Charmed with the proud distinction he had got ;
For when the champion forfeited his claim, —
His surely was the honour, his the fame.

With this conceit delighted he began
To think himself Renoppia's lover true ;
And secretly o'er all her beauties ran,
And brightly to himself those beauties drew,
Now in her lovely eyes, enamoured man,
Now in her mien he basked, and doating grew ;
And as hope's flattery vanity supplied,
He wished, rejoiced, and wept, and laughed, and sighed.

A wife of loveliest beauty he possessed,
But every kindly thought from her had fled ;
With his new love so ardently imprest,
He seemed to touch the heavens with his head ;
Just as the dog in Esop unblest),
Whose clear reflection in the river played,
Dropt from his mouth the meat, to snatch its figure
Shadowed below, and seeming to be bigger.

All night the count uneasy prest his cot,
And not a moment's slumber closed his eyes ;
Phoebus already had with a.spect hot
Removed the dusky mantle from the skies ;
And on th' horizon found, celestial spot,
Aurora in Tithonus' arms; surprise
Rou.sed her, and blushing, from her golden bed,
Chemise in hand, she rose and nimbly fled.

Then also rose the count, and moved apace
To where Renoppia's tent majestic stood,
Singing extemporé with affected grace,
And thrumming a guitar of tuneless wood ;
He thought his voice might vastly aid his case,
And win her kindness ; quite convinced it would,
His brain he puzzled to find out a ditty
Melodious, what they call in Tuscan Prete.

"Thou beauty of the universe!" sang he,
"Thy good-will I deserve, at least, that's due ;
"For my opponent fell, o'erthrown by me,
"And lost his mistress and his glory too !
"Not for the silver on the shield, but thee !
"Was I spurred on to fight ; yes, thee to woo !
"The splendour of thy aspect gave me fire
"Thy heart to conquer was my sole desire."

Thus sung the enamoured count to her he loved,
Whilst inwardly she laughed at his conceit.
Venus meanwhile o'er ocean joyous roved,
Viewing the dark-blue waters round her beat ;
For she 'd prepared a wonderous ship, and moved
The gallant vessel, from the Arno sweet,
To that soft-flowing stream which gently laves
The Syren city with its lucid waves. "

To instigate Taranto's prince, to arm
His valiant people for the mighty shock,
And save his brother from impending harm,
Imprisoned by the foe, disastrous stroke !
Forth sailed the vessel, breathing round a charm,
And keeping well at sea from sand or rock ;
The goddess sat, in gold and azure veiled,
Upon the poop, from man and heaven concealed.

Capraria and Gorgona having past,
She turns towards the left the glittering prow ;
Leghorn, then Elba, famous for its vast
Ferruginous mines ; and low Faleria now,
And Piombino are behind her cast;
Countries which still to Ocean's monarch bow ;
"Vhere still the eagle, with triumphant wings,
O'er mountain, plain, and sea, his shadow flings.

The tremulous rays of the uprising sun
Quiver along the gold and purple main;
The laughing heavens with sapphire vestments on,
Reflect in the smooth waves his form again;
The gales of Afric and the East are gone
To gentle rest in Neptune's blue domain;
Zephyr alone with soft and joyous sighs
Ripples old Ocean's margin as she flies.

As the celestial beauty passes, Love's
Good fortune passes too, and lies unseen ;
The placid sea with softest murmurs moves,
Kissing the silvery shores and borders green ;
The fishes bum with love, the banks and groves,
Envy the favoured waters and their sheen ;
The little Loves attend the swelling sails,
The helm, the oars, and watch what wind prevails.

In troops the dolphins joyfully escort
The sparkling bark upon its easy way ;
Smiling the sea-nymphs lightly dance and sport
On every side, unceasing in their play ;
She sees the Umbrone issuing from its port,
And Giglio to the southward, and the spray
Washing the dark and ruinous sides of steep
Mount Argentarius, 'mid the Tuscan deep.

Here to the right before the wind she steers,
And on the left the port of Hercules
Recedes, Civita Vecchia now appears,
And all the glittering coast the goddess sees ;
Then Porto di Trajano, worn by years,
In miserable ruins, dome and frieze ;
Time whelms the tower, dissolves the marble bust,
The noblest works become a heap of dust.

The Tiber was not distant, when arose
From sleep, the South wind which in Lybia reigns ;
And rushing to the shore, indignant blows
Across the sea, and every check disdains ;
He sees the silver sails and inward glows
With daring thoughts — above the watery plains
He flies, to ask the lovely vessel's freight,
And finds the Queen of Beauty there in state.

Thence fierce with envy, and insulting pride,
He turned to Zephyr : " Stop, or I shall send
"Thee to the centre of the sea !" he cried, —
"From that abyss thou never wilt ascend ;
"Nor raise again thy head ; it is denied
"To thee, Jove's brightest daughter to befriend ;
"Mine is the task, go, aid the swallow's way,
"And make the asses warble love in May."

Zephyr, thus suddenly assailed, conveyed
The news to his bold brother, who was sleeping
Upon the Alps, and was not disobeyed ;
For when the North wind, from his slumber leaping,
Heard of the insult, he such wrath displayed,
And burned with-fury so intense and sweeping,
That houses were unroofed, trees downwards hurled,
And ocean's sand to heaven impetuous whirled.

The South wind, seeing at a distance come,
Both brothers blustering, bellowing in the ear ;
Prepares for the attack, nor dreads the gloom
Their fury threatens, whether far or near ;
He gathers his extremest strength, and from
The shores of Afric springs ; as his compeer,
He summons to his aid the tierce Siroc,
The wind of Syria, for a heavier shock.

Quick the Sirocco came, and thence amid
The waves dire battle raged — and overhead,
Dense rolling clouds the sun's refulgence hid,
The air o'er all its gloomiest mantle spread ;
Hoarse howled the winds, whose horrid voices chid
The sea and shores, enough to raise the dead ;
It seemed as Ocean's monarch in his car,
Against his brother was denouncing war.

Burst the dark clouds, fire issues from the rent,
And radiant darts o'er the celestial plain;
The fire, the air, the watery element,
And heaven are mixed, confusion holds her reign ;
Deep thunders roll, the furious winds augment,
In wrath ; again they bellow, and again ;
The sea curls up and rears its livid head,
Against the heavens, the heavens with fury red.

The low flat coast of Ostia had receded,
And Anzio risen to view, when Beauty's Queen
The rumour heard, and saw how gust succeeded
O'erwhelming gust, and blackened all the scene ;
She saw the nymphs, how fleetly they proceeded
From the vexed, angry sea, with fearful mien ;
Disdainful then she threw her veil aside,
And showed herself to heaven in all her beauty's pride ;

And menacing the tempest, cold and drear,
The whirlwind, and the storm, away she chased
From heaven the clouds, and made the elements clear
And tranquil with her lovely eyes ; repressed,
The winds at once betrayed submissive fear,
Quiet and trembling at the wrath expressed ;
Upon the south wind then she fixed her look,
And biting her own finger threatening spoke.

"Moor! dog! unprincipled and lawless, ott!
"I'll teach thee with this battling spirit, how
"To strive with me ; thou hast presumed enough,
"Get back to thy own country I" — Mark him, bow,
And kneel, and kiss her heavenly feet, and puff,
And beg her pardon for his crime; and now
Departing turn to Africa again,
Whilst the gay ves.sel onward ploughs the main.

With crimson gowns, and turbans on the head,
Nettun's fair damsels on the beach ai"e seen ;
She passes close Astura, where betrayed
In his disastrous flight was Corradin.
God, tor that deed, a punishment has laid
Upon the land — which from that time has been
Desert and waste ; now Mount Circell appears,
His feet amidst the sea, his head to heaven he rears.

Onward she goes, and rapid leaves behind
Ponzia and Palmarola, where of yore
By tyrant Rome the illustrious were confined,
Secret and lonely. Scattered on the shore
Gleam various towers ; — before the buxom wind
Swift flies the vessel, now is seen no more
Dim Terracena; now remote is found
Upon the left Gaeta — place renowned.

Gaeta now is passed, and sailing on
She gains Procida, steering near its coast ;
And then Puzzolo, long familiar known
For its sulphureous streets ; that too is lost ;
Then comes Nisida, with an emerald zone,
Whence is beheld bright Naples and its boast,
The glorious bay ; and seemingly Avith glee
The Queen of Ocean greets the Goddess of the Sca:

The goddess from Nisida quickly sends
To Manfred ; alters her bewitching face,
And takes, as she upon the beach descends,
The Countess of Caserta's form and grace ;
The countess and the prince, so fame pretends,
Were bom of the same father, envied race ;
But different mothers, and were, for awhile,
Fostered and reared each on a different soil.

Though still but children they to court were brought,
And in the royal palace, unrestrained,
Together lived, until a change was wrought,
And playful they a riper age attained ;
Their years were almost equal, both were fraught
With beauty in perfection ; thence, unfeigned,
I know not how, they owned a stronger flame,
And love fraternal haply changed its name.

Within the father's breast, suspicion rising,
From act and look, he married off the maid ;
But though thus parted, can it be surprising !
Their constant souls still kept the vows they made.
The courier now is faithfully apprizing,
Young Manfred of the message he conveyed.
And thence the prince, whom nothing now impedes,
Quick to his sister secretly proceeds.

He finds her near a rifted rock's rude base,
In a delicious garden walking ; there
He lands, and quickly in a close embrace,
Love urges him to strain that goddess fair,
Her mouth and eyes he kisses, and her face,
And in those kisses, sweet beyond compare,
Sucks so much poison, so much fire that he
Burns with intense delight, and ecstacy.

He wished those ardent kisses to renew,
Those dear embraces ; but the goddess bright
His greedy biting lips repelling, threw
Upon her blushing cheeks a rosy light,
And said : " That wild temerity subdue,
"And those licentious wishes, valiant knight ;
"For these in sign and manner have no claim
"To brother's kisses; hear me why I came."

The prince obeyed, and when she had detailed
The dreadful fate of Enzio, who had lost
The flower of his brave cavaliers, and failed,
Himself a prisoner, all his wishes crost ;
She dried her tears, and said : — " The foe prevailed,
"But thou dost now my father's station boast,
"Tis thine to show his blood still pure in thee,
"That Suabia's hand is vigorous still and free.C".

"You, who the reins of these dominions hold,
"You can remove from our illustrious sire,
"And brother, this opprobrium ; rise, be bold,
"And arm by sea and land ; never was higher
"Adventure — fortune never yet did mould
"A fitter time, and valour more require,
"For deeds of glory, such as earth nor sea
"Ever beheld ; — the palm but waits for thee.

"If I were not a woman, with this hand
"I'd sally forth their arrogance to quell ;
"Nor should they feel secure on any strand,
"Nor ever more a tale of triumph tell ;
"First should they come in humble guise and stand
"Before me, ropes about their necks, as well
"As round their loins, and thus for pardon sue,
"Give back my brother, arms, and city too.

God! why was I made a woman? why
"My slender hand unused to arms and blood ?"
Here did she sparkle so transcendently,
The wondering prince in pale amazement stood;
Trembled his heart, — like withered leaf and dry,
Without all cold, within a boiling flood ;
He wished to stretch his hand, her charms to seize,
But secret terror seemed hi.s soul to freeze.

At length with tremulous voice the prince replied :
' My sister, queen, my goddess ! — into tire
"I'll rush, aye midst the ocean's central tide,
"To the earth's core, if it be thy desire,
"And path be found ; — my sceptre is, beside,
"And all within my power thou can'st require
"At thy command — all, all, yes, all that's mine ;
"My heart and sword eternally are thine."

Thus saying he extends his arms to strain
His sister's beautiful bosom to his own,
But the bright goddess makes the effort vain,
And quick retires ;—her borrowed form is gone ;
And now her first immortal shape again
She wears, and on the stripling looking down
Flings from her purple lap ambrosial flowers,
And o'er his head a cloud of roses showers.

"Beauty of heaven ! immortal goddess, hear !
"O, whither dost thou fly ? why leave me now ?
"In my distress wilt thou not hover near,
"And pleasure to these longing eyes allow?"
Thus spoke the royal youth with grief sincere,
And turned his sorrowing steps to where his prow
Sat on the waters; roused by the alarm,
His kingdom he at once resolved to arm.

But Count Culagna, meantime, having seen
Renoppia issue from her tent, began
To smooth his beard, adjust his cloak, and mien,
And draw a plume in front, bewitching man !
To grace his casque ; and then, as to his queen,
With bended knee-joints to salute her ran,
And almost touched the ground ; — she knew his worth
And called him to her — for a moment's mirth.

She praised his valour, his exalted mind,
His intrepidity, his flowing wit ;
And swore a knight so gentle, so refined,
So worthy of her love, in all things fit,
She never found ; to him .she'd have been kind,
But he in wedlock was already knit ;
And this sweet flattery, as the damsel smiled,
Made the poor wretch superlatively wild.

Him Titta meets upon a lonely plain,
Strutting, o'ershadowed by a chesnut-tree ;
And parleying with himself in frantic strain,
Now quick, now slow, he strides affectedly ;
And now to Titta tells his joy and pain,
And whispers to him confidentially ;
"Brother!" he says, " I must get rid of grief,
"My wife must die to give my soul relief !

"No doubt 'tis infinitely grievous, — still,
"My cruel stars compel me to be cruel."
Then he relates why he resolves to kill,
And what Renoppia said, his radiant jewel !
Titta pretends the story makes him thrill,
But calls him happy — though about to do ill ;
"Count, thou wert bom a pope ; — I tell thee too,
"Thou hast no parallel ! ah, rogue! it's true."

Upon the way he learns his inmost thought,
And so cajoles him that his swelling heart
Beats quick and high, with wonderous pleasure fraught ;
He shakes himself, and sings with accent smart ;
Talks gaily of his hopes, and of his plot,
Boasting of the exploit in every part ;
Titta hears all — gives to his purpose life ;
"For not a soul will ever know, who killed thy darling wife."

Titta himself was smitten with the dame,
The lady of the Count, and often he
Had told the genuine ardour of his flame ;
And all the maids knew what he wished to be ;
Now that he sees the husband's plot and aim,
To make him pay for his own perfidy,
He writes to her the sudden change, and further,
By what foul means the Count intends her murder.

The wife is grateful tor the knight's civility,
And cautiously prepares herself to meet him ;
Informs her servants, that with more facility
She with his own base weapons may defeat him ;
The Count proceeds with cool inflexibility,
And takes aside, determined well to treat him,
Doctor Sigonio, offers him a bribe
Of gold and silver, if he will prescribe ;

And furnish him with poison,—quick and sure,
For which no remedy existeth, — saying
He could not now his wicked wife endure
Since she had played him false, her vows betraying ;
He said he was resolved to work her cure
Himself, she dearly for her folly paying;
Long did Sigonio pause upon the barter,
Then gave a dose of pure emetic tartar.

The Count believes it poison, — and one day
Proceeds to Modena, salutes his lady,
Who seeming unsuspicious, pleased, and gay,
Salutes him too, still circumspect and steady ;
He then runs o'er the house, and speeds away,
To th' kitchen, there to make the poison ready,
But finds himself so watched, and so perplexed,
He knows not what to do nor what consider next.

Now he returns, ascends the stairs again,
Quite breathless, sorrow pictured in his face ;
And panting waits until the menial train.
The victuals on the dinner table place ;
In his wife's soup he snugly scatters then
The powder, feigning, with a guilty grace,
That it was pepper, and to make it good,
Rattled the pepper-pot which near him stood.

Now joins the board the cunningest of wives,
And whilst he cleans his hands, and makes them dry,
Turns herself round, and, back to him, contrives
To change the soup, then slips unheeded by,
And shows her own hands washed, and still connives,
But glances every where, and will not try
A morsel, — eat, nor taste, nor quench her thirst,
Unless her roguish husband tries it first.

The Count ate quickly and then went away,
Not anxious to behold his wife expire !
To the Piazza he was found to stray,
Where people congregate: there all inquire
(Soon as they see him, lately from the fray)
What news he brings, and answering their desire
For news he tells them many a bouncing story.
And many a lie about his fame and glory.

So much he warms, and such his animation,
In telling idle tales of empty wind';
That lo ! the drug- begins its operation,
And turns his stomach — sweetly had he dined :
The people stand stare with consternation,
As he keeps vomiting ; to death inclined,
Through fear, and calling a confessor to him,
And swearing it is poison working through him.

Coltra and Galliano, druggists two,
Ran with bolarmeno and mithridate.
The doctors brought their urinals, in view,
To find the poison's quality and state ;
A hundred barbers, priests with missals flew,
Towards him, tearing from his chest the weight
Of clothes, and exclaiming: " Non temere,"
And urging him to sing, devoutly, " Miserere."

Some oil, some treacle, bolted down his throat,
Some melted grease, and others loads of butter ;
So harassed was he by the things he got,
He hardly had the power one word to utter ;
When suddenly he found himself afloat,
And so impetuous was the dreadful splutter,
That the bright amber, far from being sweet,
Ran through his galligaskins to his feet.

"O powers of heaven ! what's this unwholesome savour,"
A barber cried when he the odour found ;
"Tis mortal poison, and contagious — never
"Did smell so strong my nasal nerves confound,
"Carry him off, or he will breed a fever;
"The town will be infected all around."
But so tumultuous was the mob, so tost,
Doctor Cavalca's life was nearly lost.

As cardinals at Montecavallo thread
The winding staircase to the consistory,
And are impeded by the crowds a-head,
Pushing along — all jostling in their hurry ;
So here the priests and doctors, squeezed, delayed,
Finding no way to get out from the skerry,
Elbow, and push, and edge, without cessation,
Yet can't escape from that conglomeration.

But when the ambergris had issued out,
And the mephitic air was spread abroad,
Each held with gloves his own insulted snout,
And backward shrunk — and soon made clear the road ;
Abandoned was the Count by all the rout,
All, save one priest who (just arrived) bestowed
Some pity on him, for no stink oppressed him,
(Having no nose) and presently confessed him.

Confessed he was ; by opportune assistance,
Placed on a ladder, and the smell he gave.
Made all the people hurry to a distance ;
Two porters bore him home, his life to save,
And put him in the hall — without resistance,
And then called for the servants; not a slave
Was to be found, except an ancient crone,
Who clattering came with a shoe and patten on.

At home already had they heard the news,
That the poor Count of poison was expiring ;
And thence his wife, a cunning course pursues,
Saddling her husband's horse, herself attiring
In manly habit, and to aid her views
Putting a soldier's hat on — thus retiring
Unmarked in secret, she to camp proceeded,
In search of Titta, whose advice she needed.

To him she sent a joyful message, stating
That one of the Count's pages was at hand,
With something that would please his fancy, waiting ;
Away he went, 'twas to him a command ;
And looking up, himself felicitating,
Knew his sweet mistress, heard her accents bland ;
And to dismount, his aid immediate lent,
And in his arms conveyed her to his tent,

Ami eagerly he kissed her mouth, and prest
Her to his heart, and gazed with admiration ;
And she on him, desiring, yet distrest,
Tum'd languidly her eye's illumination.
Some thought it rather singular, at best,
Because she was supposed a male creation ;
For they could not distinguish by her dress
But why should I their foolishness express ?

All day the Count continued in his bed,
Thus all the night, and following day were past ;
Alarm and horror almost turned his head,
Thinking that every hour would be his last ;
This gave the lovers time to bake their bread,
To banquet after an unpleasant last,
And highly they enjoy'd the comic thought,
How the great Count, in his own trap was caught.

Now had Sigonio told in Titta's ear
The joke about the poison ; he repeated
The story to the dame, who laughed to hear
How soon her vengeance on him was completed.
Intending to remain for ever near
Her new admirer, and no more be cheated ;
Because, so pleasant was her situation ;
Why should she wish for change or alteration.

But when the Count was gravely certified,
By all the doctors in full consultation,
That he was out of danger, — forth he hied
In arms towards the camp — all perturbation
About his wife, and there he was supplied
By one of his own corps, with information
About his horse ; on which a boy was seen.
But since nor boy, nor horse, in sight had been.

The wondering Count began to ruminate
Upon his loss — and who the youth could be ;
Then promised a reward, to stimulate
The avarice of some spy ; next morning he
Was faithfully informed fortunate)
That Titta had his horse ; the man his fee
Forthwith demanded, doubtless 'twas his due,
But the Count laughed, and swore it was untrue ;

And sends one of his men to Titta, telling
What his accuser had presumed to mention ;
Titta declares, some foe with envy swelling
Has framed the charges to promote dissension ;
But, meantime, he is most intensely dwelling
On thoughts, how he may, and by what invention,
Tint the said horse's hair, which now is gray,
And make it to the sight a glossy bay.

This done, he calls, by way of demonstration,
The Count, in a dim light, among his stud ;
The Count not finding, on examination,
His gallant gray, — he did not think he should —
Apologized; it gave a new occasion
Of proof, that Titta's character was good ;
But not a word he spoke about his dame,
Whom still he anxious sought though not by name.

And swears a page has carried oft his steed ;
He knows not whither the vile wretch has gone,
But if he finds him, for the felon-deed
He'll have him punished at the culprit-stone ;
Titta, who sees he's from suspicion freed,
Now cogitates what further can be done
To keep the lively lady under cover,
And the Count ignorant of his manoeuvre.

They both agree, and pour on chesnut bark
Water distilled, a lotion thus preparing;
And with it make her fine complexion dark,
Neck, face, and hands, no skill nor trouble sparing ;
The wash destroys the white, and both remark,
"A Mauritanian born, in look and bearing,"
But though of sable tawney was her face,
She still retained her own peculiar grace.

As crimson cloth, a darker colour dyed,
Retains its pristine texture and still shines
To sight, still purple, peering as with pride
Through the black tint, and both the hues combines
So the false colour, to her face applied,
Tunis not its pristine charm, and beauteous lines ;
It glows with native warmth, and from her eyes,
Still beautiful, the wonted lightning flies.

In vest of azure, trimmed with radiant gold,
She now is robed, and, from her neck and breast,
A Moorish garment, sparkling every fold,
Flows loosely ; lovelier thus superbly dressed.
Titta now .shows her to the Count : " Behold !
"This thankless slave with sorrow breaks my rest,
"Her heart my passion has no power to move,
"Beg her, my Count, fo give me all her love !"

The Count in Candiotto spoke his mind,
And she replied to him in Calabrese:
"Beautiful Moor!' he said, " be not unkind,
"But thy fond master ever seek to please!"
Turning to Titta she herself resigned
Into his arms, and he in ecstacies
Drew from her coral lip the joy he wanted,
His soul was by her kisses sweet enchanted.

Confounded was the Count to see their zeal,
And how with fond endearment they caressed ;
Titta, to him, seemed raging mad, to feel
For her the torments which he had expressed ;
Long had this lasted for their mutual weal,
Had not the youth',s relations shrewdly guess'd,
And known the whole — the Potta, too, acquainted
With Titta's conduct, further fun prevented.

The Potta ordered privately away
The lady from the camp, a sad disgrace !
And Titta having, in that noisy fray,
Beaten a saucy bailiff in the face ;
It was decided he should smartly pay,
And be conducted, as the fittest place,
To the Palazzo prison, in the city ; —
When he began a most outrageous ditty ;

That he was to the pope a near relation,
A Roman baron too, and wished to go
Into the castle, but a fine oration
The judges made, and Andrea Bargelo;
Showing most clearly, that the habitation
In the Palazzo was the best, and so
Having been promised all, in good repair,
He was content to take his lodgings there.