Such as the busy brain of sorrow paints,
And woos to listen to her fond complaints :
And she would sit beneath the very tree
Where lay his drooping head upon her knee;
And in that posture where she saw him fall,
His words, his looks, his dying grasp recall;
And she had shorn, but saved her raven hair,
And oft would snatch it from her bosom there,
And fold, and press it gently to the ground,
As if she staunched anew some phantom's wound.
Herself would question, and for him reply;
Then rising, start, and beckon him to fly
From some imagined spectre in pursuit ;
Then seat her down upon some linden's root,
And hide her visage with her meagre hand,
Or trace strange characters along the sand-
This could not last-she lies by him she loved;
Her tale untold-her truth too dearly proved.

THE event in section 24, Canto 2d, was suggested by the description of the death or rather burial of the Duke of Gandia.

The most interesting and particular account of this mysterious event, is given by Burchard, and is in substance as follows: «On the eighth day of June, the cardinal of Valenza, and the duke of Gandia, sons of the pope, supped << with their mother, Vanozza, near the church of S. Pietro « ad vincula; several other persons being present at the <«<entertainment. A late hour approaching, and the cardinal

«

having reminded his brother, that it was time to return to << the apostolic palace, they mounted their horses or mules, << with only a few attendants, and proceeded together as far << as the palace of cardinal Ascanio Sforza, when the duke << informed the cardinal, that before he returned home, he << had to pay a visit of pleasure. Dismissing therefore all << his attendants, excepting his staffiero, or footman, and a << person in a mask, who had paid him a visit whilst at sup«<per, and who, during the space of a month, or thereabouts, previous to this time, had called upon him almost daily, << at the apostolic palace, he took this person behind him on << his mule, and proceeded to the street of the Jews, where « he quited his servant, directing him to remain there un<< til a certain hour, when, if he did not return, he might << repair to the palace. The duke then seated the person << in the mask behind him, and rode, I know not whither; « but in that night he was assassinated, and thrown into the << river. The servant, after having been dismissed, was also <«</assaulted and mortally wounded; and although he was << attended with great care, yet such was his situation, that « he could give no intelligible account of what had befallen « his master. In the morning, the duke not having returned << to the palace, his servants began to be alarmed; and one «of them informed the pontiff of the evening excursion of <«<< his sons, and that the duke had not yet made his appear«ance. This gave the pope no small anxiety; but he conjectured that the duke had been attracted by some cour

«

"

<< tesan to pass the night with her, and not choosing to quit the house in open day, had waited till the following evening to return home. When, however, the evening arrived, and he found himself disappointed in his expecta<«tions, he became deeply afflicted, and began to make inquiries from different persons, whom he ordered to attend « him for that purpose. Amongst these was a man named « Giorgio Schiavoni, who, having discharged some timber << from a bark in the river, had remained on board the << vessel to watch it, and being interrogated whether he « had seen any one thrown into the river, on the night preceding, he replied, that he saw two men on foot, who «< came down the street, and looked diligently about, to observe whether any person was passing; that seeing no «one, they returned, and a short time afterwards two « others came, and looked around in the same manner as the former; no person still appearing, they gave a sign to << their companions, when a man came, mounted on a white horse, having behind him a dead body, the head and arms « of which hung on one side, and the feet on the other «side of the horse; the two persons on foot supporting << the body, to prevent its falling. They thus proceeded << towards that part, where the filth of the city is usually discharged into the river, and turning the horse with his <<< tail towards the water, the two persons took the dead body by the arms and feet, and with all their strength flung it into the river. The person on horseback then « asked if they had thrown it in, to which they replied, Signor, si, (yes, Sir,). He then looked towards the river, << and seeing a mantle floating on the stream, he inquired « what it was that appeared black, to which they answered, << it was a mantle; and one of them threw stones upon it, « iu consequence of which it sunk. The attendants of the pontiff then inquired from Giorgio, why he had not revealed this to the governor of the city; to which he replied, <<< that he had seen in his time a hundred dead bodies << thrown into the river at the same place, without any in«quiry being made respecting them, and that he had not, << therefore, considered it as a matter of any importance.

«

"

"

8*

The fishermen and seamen were then collected and order«<ed to search the river, where, on the following evening, they found the body of the duke, with his habit entire, << and thirty ducats in his purse. He was pierced with nine << wounds, one of which was in his throat, the others in

his head, body and limbs. No sooner was the pontiff in«formed of the death of his son, and that he had been thrown, a like filth, into the river, than giving way to his grief, he << shut himself up in a chamber and wept bitterly. The car«dinal of Segovia, and other attendants on the pope, went

to the door, and after many hours spent in persuasions « and exhortations, prevailed upon him to admit them. << From the evening of wednesday, till the following sa<turday, the pope took no food; nor did he sleep from thursday morning till the same hour on the ensuing day. At length, however, giving way to the intreaties of his << attendants, he began to restrain his sorrow, and to con« sider the injury which his own health might sustain by the further indulgence of his grief. »-Roscoe's Lea Tenth, Vol. I, page 265,

PARISINA.