O my beloved, my sweet Hesperus!
My morning and my evening star of love!
My best and gentlest lady! even thus,

As that fair planet in the sky above,

Dost thou retire unto thy rest at night,

And from thy darkened window fades the light.

DIVINA COMMEDIA.

I.

OFT have I seen at some cathedral door

A labourer, pausing in the dust and heat,
Lay down his burden, and with reverent feet
Enter, and cross himself, and on the floor

Kneel to repeat his paternoster o'er;

Far off the noises of the world retreat▸
The loud vociferations of the street
Become an undistinguishable roar.

So, as I enter here from day to day,

And leave my burden at this minster gate,
Kneeling in prayer, and not ashamed to pray,

The tumult of the time discon solate

To inarticulate murmurs dies away,

While the eternal ages watch and wait.

II.

How strange the sculptures that adorn these towers!
This crowd of statues, in whose folded sleeves
Birds build their nests; while canopied with leaves
Parvis and portal bloom like trellised bowers,

And the vast minster seems a cross of flowers!

But fiends and dragons on the gargoyled eaves
Watch the dead Christ between the living thieves,
And, underneath, the traitor Judas lowers!

Ah! from what agonies of heart and brain,
What exultations trampling on despair,

What tenderness, what tears, what hate of wrong,

What passionate outcry of a soul in pain,
Uprose this poem of the earth and air,
This mediæval miracle of song!

III.

I ENTER, and I see thee in the gloom

Of the long aisles, O poet saturnine!

And strive to make my steps keep pace with thine.
The air is filled with some unknown perfume;

The congregation of the dead make room

For thee to pass; the votive tapers shine; Like rooks that haunt Ravenna's groves of pine The hovering echoes fly from tomb to tomb. From the confessionals I hear arise

Rehearsals of forgotten tragedies,

And lamentations from the crypts below; And then a voice celestial, that begins

66

With the pathetic words, Although your sins
As scarlet be," and ends with "as the snow."

IV.

I LIFT mine eyes, and all the windows blaze
With forms of saints and holy men who died,
Here martyred and hereafter glorified;
And the great Rose upon its leaves displays
Christ's Triumph, and the angelic roundelays
With splendour upon splendour multiplied;
And Beatrice again at Dante's side

No more rebukes, but smiles her words of praise.
And then the organ sounds, and unseen choirs
Sing the old Latin hymns of peace and love,
And benedictions of the Holy Ghost;

And the melodious bells among the spires

O'er all the house-tops and through heaven above
Proclaim the elevation of the Host!

V.

O STAR of morning and of liberty:

O bringer of the light whose splendour shines
Above the darkness of the Appenines,
Forerunner of the day that is to be!

The voices of the city and the sea,

The voices of the mountains and the pines, Repeat thy song, till the familiar lines Are footpaths for the thought of Italy! Thy fame is blown abroad from all the heights, Through all the nations, and a sound is heard, As of a mighty wind, and men devout, Strangers of Rome, and the new proselytes, In their own language hear thy wondrous word, And many are amazed and many doubt.

SCENE I.-The Cor GF LARA's Chambers.

Night. The COUNT in his dressing-gown, smoking and conversing with DON CARLOS.

Lara. You were not at the play to-night, Don Carlos;

How happened it?
Carlos.
I had engagements elsewhere.
Pray who was there?
Lara.
Why, all the town and court.
The house was crowded; and the busy fans
Among the gaily dressed and perfumed ladies
Fluttered like butterflies among the flowers.
There was the Countess of Medina Celi;
The Goblin Lady with her Phantom Lover,
Her Lindo Don Diego; Doña Sol,
And Doña Serafina, and her cousins.

Carlos. What was the play?

Lara.

It was a dull affair; One of those comedies in which you see,

As Lope says, the history of the world

Brought down from Genesis to the Day of Judgment.
There were three duels fought in the first act,

Three gentlemen receiving deadly wounds,

Laying their hands upon their hearts, and saying,
"O, I am dead!" a lover in a closet,

An old hidalgo, and a gay Don Juan,
A Doña Inez with a black mantilla,

Followed at twilight by an unknown lover,
Who looks intently where he knows she is not!
Carlos. Of course, the Preciosa danced to-night?
Lara. And never better. Every footstep fell
As lightly as a sunbeam on the water.

I think the girl extremely beautiful.

Carlos. Almost beyond the privilege of woman! I saw her in the Prado yesterday.

Her step was royal-queen-like-and her face

As beautiful as a saint's in Paradise.

Lara. May not a saint fall from her Paradise, And be no more a saint?

Carlos.

Why do you ask?

Lara. Because I have heard it said this angel fell,
And, though she is a virgin outwardly,

Within she is a sinner; like those panels
Of doors and altar-pieces the old monks
Painted in convents, with the Virgin Mary
On the outside, and on the inside Venus!

Carlos. You do her wrong; indeed, you do her wrong! She is as virtuous as she is fair.

Lara. How credulous you are! Why, look you, friend, There's not a virtuous woman in Madrid,

In this whole city! And would you persuade me
That a mere dancing-girl, who shows herself
Nightly, half-naked, on the stage, for money,
And with voluptuous motions fires the blood
Of inconsiderate youth, is to be held

Carlos.

You forget

And therefore won

Nay, not to be won at all!

The only virtue that a Gipsy prizes

Is chastity. This is her only virtue.

Dearer than life she holds it. I remember

A Gipsy woman, a vile, shameless bawd,

Whose craft was to betray the young and fair;

And yet this woman was above all bribes.
And when a noble lord, touched by her beauty,
The wild and wizard beauty of her race,
Offered her gold to be what she made others,
She turned upon Lim, with a look of scorn,
And smote him in the face!

Lara.

And does that prove
That Preciosa is above suspicion ?

Carlos. It proves a nobleman may be repulsed
When he thinks conquest easy. I believe
That woman, in her deepest degradation,
Holds something sacred, something undefiled,
Some pledge and keepsake of her higher nature,
And, like the diamond in the dark, retains
Some quenchless gleam of the celestial light!
Lard. Yet Preciosa would have taken the gold.
Carlos [rising]. I do not think so.

Lara.
I am sure of it.
But why this haste? Stay yet a little longer,
And fight the battles of your Dulcinea.

Carlos. 'Tis late. I must begone, for if I stay
You will not be persuaded.

Lara.

Yes; persuade me.

Carlos. No one so deaf as he who will not hear!

Lara. No one so blind as he who will not see!

Carlos. And so good night. I wish you pleasant dreams, And greater faith in woman.

Lara.

Greater faith!

I have the greatest faith; for I believe

Victorian is her lover. I believe

That I shall be to-morrow; and thereafter

Another, and another, and another,

Chasing each other through her zodiac,

As Taurus chases Aries.

[Enter FRANCISCO with a casket.]

Well, Francisco,

None, my lord.

What speed with Preciosa?

Fran.

She sends your jewels back, and bids me tell you
She is not to be purchased by your gold.

Lara. Then I will try some other way to win her.
Pray, dost thou know Victorian ?

Fran.

I saw him at the jeweller's to-day.
Lara. What was he doing there?
Fran.

A golden ring that had a ruby in it.
Lara. Was there another like it?

Yes, my lord,

I saw him buy

Exit.