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Himself unheeded watched the stranger's course,
Who reach'd the river, bounded from his horse, 1210
And lifting thence the burthen which he bore,
Heav'l up the bank, and dash'd it from the shore,
Then paused, and look'd, and turn'd, and seem'd to

watch,
And still another hurried glance would snatch,
And follow with his step the stream that flow'd, 1215
As if even yet too much its surface show'd:
At once he started, stoop'd around him strown
The winter floods had scatter'd heaps of stone;
Of these the heaviest thence he gather'd there,
And slung them with a more than common care. 1220
Meantime the Serf had crept to where unseen
Himself might safely mark what this might mean;
He caught a glimpse, as of a floating breast,
And something glitter'd starlike on the vest,
But ere he well could mark the buoyant trunk, 1225
A massy fragment smote it, and it sunk:
It rose again but indistinct to view,
And left the waters of a purple hue,
Then deeply disappear'd: the horseman gazed
Till ebb’d the latest eddy it had raised;

1230 Then turning, vaulted on his pawing steed, And instant spurr'd him into panting speed. His face was mask'd—the features of the dead, If dead it were, escaped the observer's dread; But if in sooth a star its bosom bore,

1235 Such is the badge that knighthood ever wore,

VOL. II.

And such 'tis known Sir Ezzelin had worn
Upon the night that led to such a mom.
If thus he perish'd Heaven receive his soul !
His undiscover'd limbs to ocean roll;
And charity upon the hope would dwell
It was not Lara's hand by which he fell.

1240

XXV. And Kaled-Lara-Ezzelin, are gone, Alike without their monumental stone! The first, all efforts vainly strove to wean 1245 From lingering where her chieftain's blood had been; Grief had so tamed a spirit once too proud, Her tears were few, her wailing never loud ; But furious would you tear her from the spot Where yet she scarce believed that he was not, 1250 Her eye shot forth with all the living fire That haunts the tigress in her whelpless ire: But left to waste her weary moments there, She talk'd all idly unto shapes of air, Such as the busy brain of Sorrow paints, 1255 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,

106

And fold, and press it gently to the ground,
As if she stanch'd anew some phantom's wound.
Herself would question, and for him reply; 1265
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 1270
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 supper, 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 quitted his servant, directing him to remain there until 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, 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

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