A heart which shunn'd itself—and yet And cherish'd most where least reveal'd. With inward starts of feeling left, If lopp'd with care a strength may give, And never more a leaf reveals. NOTES TO PARISINA. As twilight melts beneath the moon away. Page 176, line 14. The lines contained in Section I. were printed as set to music some time since; but belonged to the poem where they now appear, the greater part of which was composed prior to "Lara," and other compositions since published. 2. That should have won as haught a crest. a beautiful and ingenious youth. Parisina Malates ta, second wife of Niccolo, like the generality of step-mothers, treated him with little kindness, to the infinite regret of the Marquis, who regarded him with fond partiality. One day she asked leave of her husband to undertake a certain journey, to which he consented, but upon condition that Ugo should bear her company; for he hoped by these means to induce her, in the end, to lay aside the obstinate aversion which she had conceived against him. And indeed his intent was accomplished but too well, since, during the journey, she not only divested herself of all her hatred, but fell into the opposite extreme. After their return, the Marquis had no longer any occasion to renew his former reproofs. It happened one day that a servant of the Marquis, named Zoese, or, as some call him, Giorgio, passing before the apartments of Parisina, saw going out from them one of her chambermaids, all terrified and in tears. Asking the reason, she told Her life began and closed in wo. him that her mistress, for some slight offence, had Page 180, line 109. been beating her; and, giving vent to her rage, she This turned out a calamitous year for the people added, that she could easily be revenged, if she of Ferrara, for there occurred a very tragical event chose to make known the criminal familiarity which m the court of their sovereign. Our annals, both subsisted between Parisina and her step-son. The printed and in manuscript, with the exception of servant took note of the words, and related them to the unpolished and negligent work of Sardi, and his master. He was astounded thereat, but scarceone other, have given the following relation of it, ly believing his ears, he assured himself of the from which, however, are rejected many details, and fact, alas! too clearly, on the 18th of May, by especially the narrative of Bandelli, who wrote a looking through a hole made in the ceiling of his entury afterwards, and who does not accord with wife's chamber. Instantly he broke into a furious the contemporary historians. rage, and arrested both of them, together with Al 3. "By the above-mentioned Stella dell' Assassino, dobrandino Rangoni, of Modena, her gentleman, the Marquis in the year 1405, had a son called Ugo, and also, as some say, two of the women of her chamber, as abettors of this sinful act. He ordered, "The Marquis kept watch the whole of that them to be brought to a hasty trial, desiring the dreadful night, and, as he was walking backwards judges to pronounce sentence, in the accustomed and forwards, inquired of the captain of the castle forms, upon the culprits. This sentence was death. if Ugo was dead yet? who answered him, Yes. He Some there were that bestirred themselves in favor then gave himself up to the most desperate lamen of the delinquents, and, among others, Ugoccion tations, exclaiming, 'Oh! that I too were dead, Contrario, who was all powerful with Niccolo, and since I have been hurried on to resolve thus against also his aged and much deserving minister, Alberto my own Ugo!' And then, gnawing with his teeth dal Sale. Both of these, their tears flowing down a cane which he had in his hand, he passed the rest their cheeks, and upon their knees, implored him of the night in sighs and in tears, calling frequently for mercy adducing whatever reasons they could upon his own dear Ugo. On the following day, suggest for sparing the offenders, besides those mo- calling to mind that it would be necessary to make tives of honor and decency which might persuade public his justification, seeing that the transaction him to conceal from the public so scandalous a deed. could not be kept secret, he ordered the narrative But his rage made him inflexible, and, on the in- to be drawn out upon paper, and sent it to all the stant, he commanded that the sentence should be courts of Italy. put in execution. "On receiving this advice, the Doge of Venice, "It was, then, in the prisons of the castle, and Francesco Foscari, gave orders, but without pub exactly in those frightful dungeons which are seen lishing his reasons, that stop should be put to the at this day beneath the chamber called the Aurora, preparations for a tournament, which, under the at the foot of the Lion's tower, at the top of the auspices of the Marquis, and at the expense of the street Giovecca, that on the night of the 21st of city of Padua, was about to take place, in the May were beheaded, first Ugo, and afterwards Pari-square of St. Mark, in order to celebrate his adsina. Zoese, he that accused her, conducted the vancement to the ducal chair. latter under his arm to the place of punishment. "The Marquis, in addition to what he had already She, all along, fancied that she was to be thrown done, from some unaccountable burst of vengeance, into a pit, and asked at every step, whether commanded that as many of the married women as she was yet come to the spot? She was told were well known to him to be faithless, like his that her punishment was the axe. She inquired Parisina, should, like her, be beheaded. Amongst what was become of Ugo, and received for answer, others, Barberina, or, as some call her, Laodamia that he was already dead; at the which, sighing Romei, wife of the court judge, underwent this sengrievously, she exclaimed, 'Now, then, I wish not tence, at the usual place of execution, that is to myself to live; and, being come to the block, she say, in the quarter of St. Giacomo, opposite the stripped herself with her own hands of all her orna- present fortress, beyond St. Paul's. It cannot be ments, and wrapping a cloth around her head, sub- told how strange appeared this proceeding in a mitted to the fatal stroke, which terminated the prince, who, considering his own disposition, should, cruel scene. The same was done with Rangoni, as it seemed, have been in such cases most indul. who, together with the others, according to two gent. Some, however, there were, who did not fail calendars in the library of St. Francesco, was buried to commend him." in the cemetery of that convent. Nothing else is known respecting the women. •Primi-History of Ferrara. THE PRISONER OF CHILLON; A FABLE. SONNET ON CHILLON. ETERNAL Spirit of the chainless mind! And thy sad floor an altar-for 'twas trod, Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod, By Bonnivard! -May none those marks efface! For they appeal from tyranny to God. I. My hair is gray, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears: For they have been a dungeon's spoil, II. There are seven pillars of gothic mould, A sunbeam which hath lost its way, For in these limbs its teeth remain, III. They chain'd us each to a column stone, But even these at length grew cold. IV. I was the eldest cf the three, The youngest, whom my father loved, (When day was beautiful to me Its sleepless summer of long light, And thus he was as pure and bright, And in his natural spirit gay, With tears for nought but others' ills, And then they flow'd like mountain rills, Unless he could assuage the wo Which he abhorr'd to view below. V. The other was as pure of mind, With joy :-but not in chains to pine: And so perchance in sooth did mine; Had follow'd there the deer and wolf; VI. Lake Leman lies by Chillon's walls; A thousand feet in depth below Sounding o'er our heads it knock'd; And I have felt the winter's spray Wash through the bars when winds were high, And wanton in the happy sky; And then the very rock hath rock'd, And I have felt it shake, unshock'd, Because I could have smiled to see The death that would have set me free. VII. 1 said my nearer brother pined, I said his mighty heart declined, For we were used to hunter's fare, I might have spared my idle prayer- VIII. But he, the favorite and the flower, So tearless, yet so tender-kind, An eye of most transparent light, And not a word of murmur-not A little hope my own to raise, More slowly drawn, grew less and less : The accursed breath of dungeon-dew: I could not die, I had no earthly hope-but faith, And that forbade a selfish death. IX. What next befel me then and there I had no thought, no feeling-none- But vacancy absorbing space, There were no stars-no earth-no time No check-no change-no good-no crime- Blind, boundless mute, and motionless! X. A light broke in upon my brain,- The sweetest song ear ever heard, But then by dull degrees came back My senses to their wonted track; I saw the dungeon walls and floor A lovely bird, with azure wings, I ne'er shall see its likeness more: Or broke its cage to perch on mine, Sweet bird! I could not wish for thine; Or if it were, in winged guise, A visitant from Paradise; For-Heaven forgive that thought! the while I sometimes deem'd that it might be A single cloud on a sunny day, That hath no business to appear When skies are blue, and earth is gay XI. A kind of change came in my fate, I know not what had made them so, My brothers' graves without a sod; I made a footing in the wall, It was not therefrom to escape, For I had buried one and all, Who loved me in a human shape; And the whole earth would henceforth be A wider prison unto me; No child-no sire-no kin had I, No partner in my misery: |