Public Domain Poetry And Stories - Sordello: Book The Fourth by Robert Browning
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Sordello: Book The Fourth

    By Robert Browning



    Meantime Ferrara lay in rueful case;
    The lady-city, for whose sole embrace
    Her pair of suitors struggled, felt their arms
    A brawny mischief to the fragile charms
    They tugged for one discovering that to twist
    Her tresses twice or thrice about his wrist
    Secured a point of vantage one, how best
    He 'd parry that by planting in her breast
    His elbow spike each party too intent
    For noticing, howe'er the battle went,
    The conqueror would but have a corpse to kiss.
    "May Boniface be duly damned for this!"
    Howled some old Ghibellin, as up he turned,
    From the wet heap of rubbish where they burned
    His house, a little skull with dazzling teeth:
    "A boon, sweet Christ let Salinguerra seethe
    "In hell for ever, Christ, and let myself
    "Be there to laugh at him!" moaned some young Guelf
    Stumbling upon a shrivelled hand nailed fast
    To the charred lintel of the doorway, last
    His father stood within to bid him speed.
    The thoroughfares were overrun with weed
    Docks, quitchgrass, loathy mallows no man plants.


    The stranger, none of its inhabitants
    Crept out of doors to taste fresh air again,
    And ask the purpose of a splendid train
    Admitted on a morning; every town
    Of the East League was come by envoy down
    To treat for Richard's ransom: here you saw
    The Vicentine, here snowy oxen draw
    The Paduan carroch, its vermilion cross
    On its white field. A-tiptoe o'er the fosse
    Looked Legate Montelungo wistfully
    After the flock of steeples he might spy
    In Este's time, gone (doubts he) long ago
    To mend the ramparts: sure the laggards know
    The Pope's as good as here! They paced the streets
    More soberly. At last, "Taurello greets
    "The League," announced a pursuivant, "will match
    "Its courtesy, and labours to dispatch
    "At earliest Tito, Friedrich's Pretor, sent
    "On pressing matters from his post at Trent,
    "With Mainard Count of Tyrol, simply waits
    "Their going to receive the delegates."
    "Tito!" Our delegates exchanged a glance,
    And, keeping the main way, admired askance
    The lazy engines of outlandish birth,
    Couched like a king each on its bank of earth
    Arbalist, manganel and catapult;
    While stationed by, as waiting a result,
    Lean silent gangs of mercenaries ceased
    Working to watch the strangers. "This, at least,
    "Were better spared; he scarce presumes gainsay
    "The League's decision! Get our friend away
    "And profit for the future: how else teach
    "Fools 't is not safe to stray within claw's reach
    "Ere Salinguerra's final gasp be blown?
    "Those mere convulsive scratches find the bone.
    "Who bade him bloody the spent osprey's nare?"


    The carrochs halted in the public square.
    Pennons of every blazon once a-flaunt,
    Men prattled, freelier than the crested gaunt
    White ostrich with a horse-shoe in her beak
    Was missing, and whoever chose might speak
    "Ecelin" boldly out: so, "Ecelin
    "Needed his wife to swallow half the sin
    "And sickens by himself: the devil's whelp,
    "He styles his son, dwindles away, no help
    "From conserves, your fine triple-curded froth
    "Of virgin's blood, your Venice viper-broth
    "Eh? Jubilate!" "Peace! no little word
    "You utter here that 's not distinctly heard
    "Up at Oliero: he was absent sick
    "When we besieged Bassano who, i' the thick
    "O' the work, perceived the progress Azzo made,
    "Like Ecelin, through his witch Adelaide?
    "She managed it so well that, night by night
    "At their bed-foot stood up a soldier-sprite,
    "First fresh, pale by-and-by without a wound,
    "And, when it came with eyes filmed as in swound,
    "They knew the place was taken." "Ominous
    "That Ghibellins should get what cautelous
    "Old Redbeard sought from Azzo's sire to wrench
    "Vainly; Saint George contrived his town a trench
    "O' the marshes, an impermeable bar."
    "Young Ecelin is meant the tutelar
    "Of Padua, rather; veins embrace upon
    "His hand like Brenta and Bacchiglion."
    What now? "The founts! God's bread, touch not a plank!
    "A crawling hell of carrion every tank
    "Choke-full! found out just now to Cino's cost
    "The same who gave Taurello up for lost,
    "And, making no account of fortune's freaks,
    "Refused to budge from Padua then, but sneaks
    "Back now with Concorezzi: 'faith! they drag
    "Their carroch to San Vitale, plant the flag
    "On his own palace, so adroitly razed
    "He knew it not; a sort of Guelf folk gazed
    "And laughed apart; Cino disliked their air
    "Must pluck up spirit, show he does not care
    "Seats himself on the tank's edge will begin
    "To hum, za, za, Cavaler Ecelin
    "A silence; he gets warmer, clinks to chime,
    "Now both feet plough the ground, deeper each time,
    "At last, za, za and up with a fierce kick
    "Comes his own mother's face caught by the thick
    "Grey hair about his spur!"


    Which means, they lift
    The covering, Salinguerra made a shift
    To stretch upon the truth; as well avoid
    Further disclosures; leave them thus employed.
    Our dropping Autumn morning clears apace,
    And poor Ferrara puts a softened face
    On her misfortunes. Let us scale this tall
    Huge foursquare line of red brick garden-wall
    Bastioned within by trees of every sort
    On three sides, slender, spreading, long and short;
    Each grew as it contrived, the poplar ramped,
    The fig-tree reared itself, but stark and cramped,
    Made fools of, like tamed lions: whence, on the edge,
    Running 'twixt trunk and trunk to smooth one ledge
    Of shade, were shrubs inserted, warp and woof,
    Which smothered up that variance. Scale the roof
    Of solid tops, and o'er the slope you slide
    Down to a grassy space level and wide,
    Here and there dotted with a tree, but trees
    Of rarer leaf, each foreigner at ease,
    Set by itself: and in the centre spreads,
    Borne upon three uneasy leopards' heads,
    A laver, broad and shallow, one bright spirt
    Of water bubbles in. The walls begirt
    With trees leave off on either hand; pursue
    Your path along a wondrous avenue
    Those walls abut on, heaped of gleamy stone,
    With aloes leering everywhere, grey-grown
    From many a Moorish summer: how they wind
    Out of the fissures! likelier to bind
    The building than those rusted cramps which drop
    Already in the eating sunshine. Stop,
    You fleeting shapes above there! Ah, the pride
    Or else despair of the whole country-side!
    A range of statues, swarming o'er with wasps,
    God, goddess, woman, man, the Greek rough-rasps
    In crumbling Naples marble meant to look
    Like those Messina marbles Constance took
    Delight in, or Taurello's self conveyed
    To Mantua for his mistress, Adelaide,
    A certain font with caryatides
    Since cloistered at Goito; only, these
    Are up and doing, not abashed, a troop
    Able to right themselves who see you, stoop
    Their arms o' the instant after you! Unplucked
    By this or that, you pass; for they conduct
    To terrace raised on terrace, and, between,
    Creatures of brighter mould and braver mien
    Than any yet, the choicest of the Isle
    No doubt. Here, left a sullen breathing-while,
    Up-gathered on himself the Fighter stood
    For his last fight, and, wiping treacherous blood
    Out of the eyelids just held ope beneath
    Those shading fingers in their iron sheath,
    Steadied his strengths amid the buzz and stir
    Of the dusk hideous amphitheatre
    At the announcement of his over-match
    To wind the day's diversion up, dispatch
    The pertinactious Gaul: while, limbs one heap,
    The Slave, no breath in her round mouth, watched leap
    Dart after dart forth, as her hero's car
    Clove dizzily the solid of the war
    Let coil about his knees for pride in him.
    We reach the farthest terrace, and the grim
    San Pietro Palace stops us.


    Such the state
    Of Salinguerra's plan to emulate
    Sicilian marvels, that his girlish wife
    Retrude still might lead her ancient life
    In her new home: whereat enlarged so much
    Neighbours upon the novel princely touch
    He took, who here imprisons Boniface.
    Here must the Envoys come to sue for grace;
    And here, emerging from the labyrinth
    Below, Sordello paused beside the plinth
    Of the door-pillar.


    He had really left
    Verona for the cornfields (a poor theft

    From the morass) where Este's camp was made;
    The Envoys' march, the Legate's cavalcade
    All had been seen by him, but scarce as when,
    Eager for cause to stand aloof from men
    At every point save the fantastic tie
    Acknowledged in his boyish sophistry,
    He made account of such. A crowd, he meant
    To task the whole of it; each part's intent
    Concerned him therefore: and, the more he pried,
    The less became Sordello satisfied
    With his own figure at the moment. Sought
    He respite from his task? Descried he aught
    Novel in the anticipated sight
    Of all these livers upon all delight?
    This phalanx, as of myriad points combined,
    Whereby he still had imaged the mankind
    His youth was passed in dreams of rivalling,
    His age in plans to prove at least such thing
    Had been so dreamed, which now he must impress
    With his own will, effect a happiness
    By theirs, supply a body to his soul
    Thence, and become eventually whole
    With them as he had hoped to be without
    Made these the mankind he once raved about?
    Because a few of them were notable,
    Should all be figured worthy note? As well
    Expect to find Taurello's triple line
    Of trees a single and prodigious pine.
    Real pines rose here and there; but, close among,
    Thrust into and mixed up with pines, a throng
    Of shrubs, he saw, a nameless common sort
    O'erpast in dreams, left out of the report
    And hurried into corners, or at best
    Admitted to be fancied like the rest.
    Reckon that morning's proper chiefs how few!
    And yet the people grew, the people grew,
    Grew ever, as if the many there indeed,
    More left behind and most who should succeed,
    Simply in virtue of their mouths and eyes,
    Petty enjoyments and huge miseries,
    Mingled with, and made veritably great
    Those chiefs: he overlooked not Mainard's state
    Nor Concorezzi's station, but instead
    Of stopping there, each dwindled to be head
    Of infinite and absent Tyrolese
    Or Paduans; startling all the more, that these
    Seemed passive and disposed of, uncared for,
    Yet doubtless on the whole (like Eglamor)
    Smiling; for if a wealthy man decays
    And out of store of robes must wear, all days,
    One tattered suit, alike in sun and shade,
    'T is commonly some tarnished gay brocade
    Fit for a feast-night's flourish and no more:
    Nor otherwise poor Misery from her store
    Of looks is fain upgather, keep unfurled
    For common wear as she goes through the world,
    The faint remainder of some worn-out smile
    Meant for a feast-night's service merely. While
    Crowd upon crowd rose on Sordello thus,
    (Crowds no way interfering to discuss,
    Much less dispute, life's joys with one employed
    In envying them, or, if they aught enjoyed,
    Where lingered something indefinable
    In every look and tone, the mirth as well
    As woe, that fixed at once his estimate
    Of the result, their good or bad estate)
    Old memories returned with new effect:
    And the new body, ere he could suspect,
    Cohered, mankind and he were really fused,
    The new self seemed impatient to be used
    By him, but utterly another way
    Than that anticipated: strange to say,
    They were too much below him, more in thrall
    Than he, the adjunct than the principal.
    What booted scattered units? here a mind
    And there, which might repay his own to find,
    And stamp, and use? a few, howe'er august,
    If all the rest were grovelling in the dust?
    No: first a mighty equilibrium, sure,
    Should he establish, privilege procure
    For all, the few had long possessed! He felt
    An error, an exceeding error melt:
    While he was occupied with Mantuan chants,
    Behoved him think of men, and take their wants,
    Such as he now distinguished every side,
    As his own want which might be satisfied,
    And, after that, think of rare qualities
    Of his own soul demanding exercise.
    It followed naturally, through no claim
    On their part, which made virtue of the aim
    At serving them, on his, that, past retrieve,
    He felt now in their toils, theirs nor could leave
    Wonder how, in the eagerness to rule,
    Impress his will on mankind, he (the fool!)
    Had never even entertained the thought
    That this his last arrangement might be fraught
    with incidental good to them as well,
    And that mankind's delight would help to swell
    His own. So, if he sighed, as formerly
    Because the merry time of life must fleet,
    'T was deeplier now, for could the crowds repeat
    Their poor experiences? His hand that shook
    Was twice to be deplored. "The Legate, look!
    "With eyes, like fresh-blown thrush-eggs on a thread,
    "Faint-blue and loosely floating in his head,
    "Large tongue, moist open mouth; and this long while
    "That owner of the idiotic smile
    "Serves them!"


    He fortunately saw in time
    His fault however, and since the office prime
    Includes the secondary best accept
    Both offices; Taurello, its adept,
    Could teach him the preparatory one,
    And how to do what he had fancied done
    Long previously, ere take the greater task.
    How render first these people happy? Ask
    The people's friends: for there must be one good
    One way to it the Cause! He understood
    The meaning now of Palma; why the jar
    Else, the ado, the trouble wide and far
    Of Guelfs and Ghibellins, the Lombard hope
    And Rome's despair? 'twixt Emperor and Pope
    The confused shifting sort of Eden tale
    Hardihood still recurring, still to fail
    That foreign interloping fiend, this free
    And native overbrooding deity:
    Yet a dire fascination o'er the palms
    The Kaiser ruined, troubling even the calms
    Of paradise; or, on the other hand,
    The Pontiff, as the Kaisers understand,
    One snake-like cursed of God to love the ground,
    Whose heavy length breaks in the noon profound
    Some saving tree which needs the Kaiser, dressed
    As the dislodging angel of that pest:
    Yet flames that pest bedropped, flat head, full fold,
    With coruscating dower of dyes. "Behold
    "The secret, so to speak, and master-spring
    "O' the contest! which of the two Powers shall bring
    "Men good, perchance the most good: ay, it may
    "Be that! the question, which best knows the way."


    And hereupon Count Mainard strutted past
    Out of San Pietro; never seemed the last
    Of archers, slingers: and our friend began
    To recollect strange modes of serving man
    Arbalist, catapult, brake, manganel,
    And more. "This way of theirs may, who can tell?
    "Need perfecting," said he: "let all be solved
    "At once! Taurello 't is, the task devolved
    "On late: confront Taurello!"


    And at last
    He did confront him. Scarce an hour had past
    When forth Sordello came, older by years
    Than at his entry. Unexampled fears
    Oppressed him, and he staggered off, blind, mute
    And deaf, like some fresh-mutilated brute,
    Into Ferrara not the empty town
    That morning witnessed: he went up and down
    Streets whence the veil had been stript shred by shred,
    So that, in place of huddling with their dead
    Indoors, to answer Salinguerra's ends,
    Townsfolk make shift to crawl forth, sit like friends
    With any one. A woman gave him choice
    Of her two daughters, the infantile voice
    Or the dimpled knee, for half a chain, his throat
    Was clasped with; but an archer knew the coat
    Its blue cross and eight lilies, bade beware
    One dogging him in concert with the pair
    Though thrumming on the sleeve that hid his knife.
    Night set in early, autumn dews were rife,
    They kindled great fires while the Leaguers' mass
    Began at every carroch: he must pass
    Between the kneeling people. Presently
    The carroch of Verona caught his eye
    With purple trappings; silently he bent
    Over its fire, when voices violent
    Began, "Affirm not whom the youth was like
    "That struck me from the porch: I did not strike
    "Again: I too have chestnut hair; my kin
    "Hate Azzo and stand up for Ecelin.
    "Here, minstrel, drive bad thoughts away! Sing! Take
    "My glove for guerdon!" And for that man's sake
    He turned: "A song of Eglamor's!" scarce named,
    When, "Our Sordello's rather!" all exclaimed;
    "Is not Sordello famousest for rhyme?"
    He had been happy to deny, this time,
    Profess as heretofore the aching head
    And failing heart, suspect that in his stead
    Some true Apollo had the charge of them,
    Was champion to reward or to condemn,
    So his intolerable risk might shift
    Or share itself; but Naddo's precious gift
    Of gifts, he owned, be certain! At the close
    "I made that," said he to a youth who rose
    As if to hear: 't was Palma through the band
    Conducted him in silence by her hand.


    Back now for Salinguerra. Tito of Trent
    Gave place to Palma and her friend, who went
    In turn at Montelungo's visit: one
    After the other were they come and gone,
    These spokesmen for the Kaiser and the Pope,
    This incarnation of the People's hope,
    Sordello, all the say of each was said;
    And Salinguerra sat, himself instead
    Of these to talk with, lingered musing yet.
    'T was a drear vast presence-chamber roughly set
    In order for the morning's use; full face,
    The Kaiser's ominous sign-mark had first place,
    The crowned grim twy-necked eagle, coarsely-blacked
    With ochre on the naked wall; nor lacked
    Romano's green and yellow either side;
    But the new token Tito brought had tried
    The Legate's patience nay, if Palma knew
    What Salinguerra almost meant to do
    Until the sight of her restored his lip
    A certain half-smile, three months' chieftainship
    Had banished! Afterward, the Legate found
    No change in him, nor asked what badge he wound
    And unwound carelessly. Now sat the Chief
    Silent as when our couple left, whose brief
    Encounter wrought so opportune effect
    In thoughts he summoned not, nor would reject,
    Though time 't was now if ever, to pause fix
    On any sort of ending: wiles and tricks
    Exhausted, judge! his charge, the crazy town,
    Just managed to be hindered crashing down
    His last sound troops ranged care observed to post
    His best of the maimed soldiers innermost
    So much was plain enough, but somehow struck
    Him not before. And now with this strange luck
    Of Tito's news, rewarding his address
    So well, what thought he of? how the success
    With Friedrich's rescript there, would either hush
    Old Ecelin's scruples, bring the manly flush
    To his young son's white cheek, or, last, exempt
    Himself from telling what there was to tempt?
    No: that this minstrel was Romano's last
    Servant himself the first! Could he contrast
    The whole! that minstrel's thirty years just spent
    In doing nought, their notablest event
    This morning's journey hither, as I told
    Who yet was lean, outworn and really old,
    A stammering awkward man that scarce dared raise
    His eye before the magisterial gaze
    And Salinguerra with his fears and hopes
    Of sixty years, his Emperors and Popes,
    Cares and contrivances, yet, you would say,
    'T was a youth nonchalantly looked away
    Through the embrasure northward o'er the sick
    Expostulating trees so agile, quick
    And graceful turned the head on the broad chest
    Encased in pliant steel, his constant vest,
    Whence split the sun off in a spray of fire
    Across the room; and, loosened of its tire
    Of steel, that head let breathe the comely brown
    Large massive locks discoloured as if a crown
    Encircled them, so frayed the basnet where
    A sharp white line divided clean the hair;
    Glossy above, glossy below, it swept
    Curling and fine about a brow thus kept
    Calm, laid coat upon coat, marble and sound:
    This was the mystic mark the Tuscan found,
    Mused of, turned over books about. Square-faced,
    No lion more; two vivid eyes, enchased
    In hollows filled with many a shade and streak
    Settling from the bold nose and bearded cheek.
    Nor might the half-smile reach them that deformed
    A lip supremely perfect else unwarmed,
    Unwidened, less or more; indifferent
    Whether on trees or men his thoughts were bent,
    Thoughts rarely, after all, in trim and train
    As now a period was fulfilled again:
    Of such, a series made his life, compressed
    In each, one story serving for the rest
    How his life-streams rolling arrived at last
    At the barrier, whence, were it once overpast,
    They would emerge, a river to the end,
    Gathered themselves up, paused, bade fate befriend,
    Took the leap, hung a minute at the height,
    Then fell back to oblivion infinite:
    Therefore he smiled. Beyond stretched garden-grounds
    Where late the adversary, breaking bounds,
    Had gained him an occasion, That above,
    That eagle, testified he could improve
    Effectually. The Kaiser's symbol lay
    Beside his rescript, a new badge by way
    Of baldric; while, another thing that marred
    Alike emprise, achievement and reward,
    Ecelin's missive was conspicuous too.


    What past life did those flying thoughts pursue?
    As his, few names in Mantua half so old;
    But at Ferrara, where his sires enrolled
    It latterly, the Adelardi spared
    No pains to rival them: both factions shared
    Ferrara, so that, counted out, 't would yield
    A product very like the city's shield,
    Half black and white, or Ghibellin and Guelf
    As after Salinguerra styled himself
    And Este who, till Marchesalla died,
    (Last of the Adelardi) never tried
    His fortune there: with Marchesalla's child
    Would pass, could Blacks and Whites be reconciled
    And young Taurello wed Linguetta, wealth
    And sway to a sole grasp. Each treats by stealth
    Already: when the Guelfs, the Ravennese
    Arrive, assault the Pietro quarter, seize
    Linguetta, and are gone! Men's first dismay
    Abated somewhat, hurries down, to lay
    The after indignation, Boniface,
    This Richard's father. "Learn the full disgrace
    "Averted, ere you blame us Guelfs, who rate
    "Your Salinguerra, your sole potentate
    "That might have been, 'mongst Este's valvassors
    "Ay, Azzo's who, not privy to, abhors
    "Our step; but we were zealous." Azzo then
    To do with! Straight a meeting of old men:
    "Old Salinguerra dead, his heir a boy,
    "What if we change our ruler and decoy
    "The Lombard Eagle of the azure sphere
    "With Italy to build in, fix him here,
    "Settle the city's troubles in a trice?
    "For private wrong, let public good suffice!"
    In fine, young Salinguerra's staunchest friends
    Talked of the townsmen making him amends,
    Gave him a goshawk, and affirmed there was
    Rare sport, one morning, over the green grass
    A mile or so. He sauntered through the plain,
    Was restless, fell to thinking, turned again
    In time for Azzo's entry with the bride;
    Count Boniface rode smirking at their side;
    "She brings him half Ferrara," whispers flew,
    "And all Ancona! If the stripling knew!"


    Anon the stripling was in Sicily
    Where Heinrich ruled in right of Constance; he
    Was gracious nor his guest incapable;
    Each understood the other. So it fell,
    One Spring, when Azzo, thoroughly at ease,
    Had near forgotten by what precise degrees
    He crept at first to such a downy seat,
    The Count trudged over in a special heat
    To bid him of God's love dislodge from each
    Of Salinguerra's palaces, a breach
    Might yawn else, not so readily to shut,
    For who was just arrived at Mantua but
    The youngster, sword on thigh and tuft on chin,
    With tokens for Celano, Ecelin,
    Pistore, and the like! Next news, no whit
    Do any of Ferrara's domes befit
    His wife of Heinrich's very blood: a band
    Of foreigners assemble, understand
    Garden-constructing, level and surround,
    Build up and bury in. A last news crowned
    The consternation: since his infant's birth,
    He only waits they end his wondrous girth
    Of trees that link San Pietro with Tomà,
    To visit Mantua. When the Podestà
    Ecelin, at Vicenza, called his friend
    Taurello thither, what could be their end
    But to restore the Ghibellins' late Head,
    The Kaiser helping? He with most to dread
    From vengeance and reprisal, Azzo, there
    With Boniface beforehand, as aware
    Of plots in progress, gave alarm, expelled
    Both plotters: but the Guelfs in triumph yelled
    Too hastily. The burning and the flight,
    And how Taurello, occupied that night
    With Ecelin, lost wife and son, I told:
    Not how he bore the blow, retained his hold,
    Got friends safe through, left enemies the worst
    O' the fray, and hardly seemed to care at first:
    But afterward men heard not constantly
    Of Salinguerra's House so sure to be!
    Though Azzo simply gained by the event
    A shifting of his plagues the first, content
    To fall behind the second and estrange
    So far his nature, suffer such a change
    That in Romano sought he wife and child,
    And for Romano's sake seemed reconciled
    To losing individual life, which shrunk
    As the other prospered mortised in his trunk;
    Like a dwarf palm which wanton Arabs foil
    Of bearing its own proper wine and oil,
    By grafting into it the stranger-vine,
    Which sucks its heart out, sly and serpentine,
    Till forth one vine-palm feathers to the root,
    And red drops moisten the insipid fruit.
    Once Adelaide set on, the subtle mate
    Of the weak soldier, urged to emulate
    The Church's valiant women deed for deed,
    And paragon her namesake, win the meed
    O' the great Matilda, soon they overbore
    The rest of Lombardy, not as before
    By an instinctive truculence, but patched
    The Kaiser's strategy until it matched
    The Pontiff's, sought old ends by novel means.
    "Only, why is it Salinguerra screens
    "Himself behind Romano? him we bade
    "Enjoy our shine i' the front, not seek the shade!"
    Asked Heinrich, somewhat of the tardiest
    To comprehend. Nor Philip acquiesced
    At once in the arrangement; reasoned, plied
    His friend with offers of another bride,
    A statelier function fruitlessly: 't was plain
    Taurello through some weakness must remain
    Obscure. And Otho, free to judge of both
    Ecelin the unready, harsh and loth,
    And this more plausible and facile wight
    With every point a-sparkle chose the right,
    Admiring how his predecessors harped
    On the wrong man: "thus," quoth he, "wits are warped
    "By outsides!" Carelessly, meanwhile, his life
    Suffered its many turns of peace and strife
    In many lands you hardly could surprise
    The man; who shamed Sordello (recognize!)
    In this as much beside, that, unconcerned
    What qualities were natural or earned,
    With no ideal of graces, as they came
    He took them, singularly well the same
    Speaking the Greek's own language, just because
    Your Greek eludes you, leave the least of flaws
    In contracts with him; while, since Arab lore
    Holds the stars' secret take one trouble more
    And master it! 'T is done, and now deter
    Who may the Tuscan, once Jove trined for her,
    From Friedrich's path! Friedrich, whose pilgrimage
    The same man puts aside, whom he 'll engage
    To leave next year John Brienne in the lurch,
    Come to Bassano, see Saint Francis' church
    And judge of Guido the Bolognian's piece
    Which, lend Taurello credit, rivals Greece
    Angels, with aureoles like golden quoits
    Pitched home, applauding Ecelin's exploits.
    For elegance, he strung the angelot,
    Made rhymes thereto; for prowess, clove he not
    Tiso, last siege, from crest to crupper? Why
    Detail you thus a varied mastery
    But to show how Taurello, on the watch
    For men, to read their hearts and thereby catch
    Their capabilities and purposes,
    Displayed himself so far as displayed these:
    While our Sordello only cared to know
    About men as a means whereby he 'd show
    Himself, and men had much or little worth
    According as they kept in or drew forth
    That self; the other's choicest instruments
    Surmised him shallow.


    Meantime, malcontents
    Dropped off, town after town grew wiser. "How
    "Change the world's face?" asked people; "as 't is now
    "It has been, will be ever: very fine
    "Subjecting things profane to things divine,
    "In talk! This contumacy will fatigue
    "The vigilance of Este and the League!
    "The Ghibellins gain on us!" as it happed.
    Old Azzo and old Boniface, entrapped
    By Ponte Alto, both in one month's space
    Slept at Verona: either left a brace
    Of sons but, three years after, either's pair
    Lost Guglielm and Aldobrand its heir:
    Azzo remained and Richard all the stay
    Of Este and Saint Boniface, at bay
    As 't were. Then, either Ecelin grew old
    Or his brain altered not o' the proper mould
    For new appliances his old palm-stock
    Endured no influx of strange strengths. He 'd rock
    As in a drunkenness, or chuckle low
    As proud of the completeness of his woe,
    Then weep real tears; now make some mad onslaught
    On Este, heedless of the lesson taught
    So painfully, now cringe for peace, sue peace
    At price of past gain, bar of fresh increase
    To the fortunes of Romano. Up at last
    Rose Este, down Romano sank as fast.
    And men remarked these freaks of peace and war
    Happened while Salinguerra was afar:
    Whence every friend besought him, all in vain,
    To use his old adherent's wits again.
    Not he! "who had advisers in his sons,
    "Could plot himself, nor needed any one's
    "Advice." 'T was Adelaide's remaining staunch
    Prevented his destruction root and branch
    Forthwith; but when she died, doom fell, for gay
    He made alliances, gave lands away
    To whom it pleased accept them, and withdrew
    For ever from the world. Taurello, who
    Was summoned to the convent, then refused
    A word at the wicket, patience thus abused,
    Promptly threw off alike his imbecile
    Ally's yoke, and his own frank, foolish smile.
    Soon a few movements of the happier sort
    Changed matters, put himself in men's report
    As heretofore; he had to fight, beside,
    And that became him ever. So, in pride
    And flushing of this kind of second youth,
    He dealt a good-will blow. Este in truth
    Lay prone and men remembered, somewhat late,
    A laughing old outrageous stifled hate
    He bore to Este how it would outbreak
    At times spite of disguise, like an earthquake
    In sunny weather as that noted day
    When with his hundred friends he tried to slay
    Azzo before the Kaiser's face: and how,
    On Azzo's calm refusal to allow
    A liegeman's challenge, straight he too was calmed:
    As if his hate could bear to lie embalmed,
    Bricked up, the moody Pharaoh, and survive
    All intermediate crumblings, to arrive
    At earth's catastrophe 't was Este's crash
    Not Azzo's he demanded, so, no rash
    Procedure! Este's true antagonist
    Rose out of Ecelin: all voices whist,
    All eyes were sharpened, wits predicted. He
    'T was, leaned in the embrasure absently,
    Amused with his own efforts, now, to trace
    With his steel-sheathed forefinger Friedrich's face
    I' the dust: but as the trees waved sere, his smile
    Deepened, and words expressed its thought erewhile.


    "Ay, fairly housed at last, my old compeer?
    "That we should stick together, all the year
    "I kept Vicenza! How old Boniface,
    "Old Azzo caught us in its market-place,
    "He by that pillar, I at this, caught each
    "In mid swing, more than fury of his speech,
    "Egging the rabble on to disavow
    "Allegiance to their Marquis Bacchus, how
    "They boasted! Ecelin must turn their drudge,
    "Nor, if released, will Salinguerra grudge
    "Paying arrears of tribute due long since
    "Bacchus! My man could promise then, nor wince
    "The bones-and-muscles! Sound of wind and limb,
    "Spoke he the set excuse I framed for him:
    "And now he sits me, slavering and mute,
    "Intent on chafing each starved purple foot
    "Benumbed past aching with the altar slab:
    "Will no vein throb there when some monk shall blab
    "Spitefully to the circle of bald scalps,
    "'Friedrich 's affirmed to be our side the Alps'
    "Eh, brother Lactance, brother Anaclet?
    "Sworn to abjure the world, its fume and fret,
    "God's own now? Drop the dormitory bar,
    "Enfold the scanty grey serge scapular
    "Twice o'er the cowl to muffle memories out!
    "So! But the midnight whisper turns a shout,
    "Eyes wink, mouths open, pulses circulate
    "In the stone walls: the past, the world you hate
    "Is with you, ambush, open field or see
    "The surging flame we fire Vicenza glee!
    "Follow, let Pilio and Bernardo chafe!
    "Bring up the Mantuans through San Biagio safe!
    "Ah, the mad people waken? Ah, they writhe
    "And reach us? If they block the gate? No tithe
    "Can pass keep back, you Bassanese! The edge,
    "Use the edge shear, thrust, hew, melt down the wedge,
    "Let out the black of those black upturned eyes!
    "Hell are they sprinkling fire too? The blood fries
    "And hisses on your brass gloves as they tear
    "Those upturned faces choking with despair.
    "Brave! Slidder through the reeking gate! `How now?
    "'You six had charge of her?' And then the vow
    "Comes, and the foam spirts, hair's plucked, till one shriek
    "(I hear it) and you fling you cannot speak
    "Your gold-flowered basnet to a man who haled
    "The Adelaide he dared scarce view unveiled
    "This morn, naked across the fire: how crown
    "The archer that exhausted lays you down
    "Your infant, smiling at the flame, and dies?
    "While one, while mine . . .


    "Bacchus! I think there lies
    "More than one corpse there" (and he paced the room)
    " Another cinder somewhere: 't was my doom
    "Beside, my doom! If Adelaide is dead,
    "I live the same, this Azzo lives instead
    "Of that to me, and we pull, any how,
    "Este into a heap: the matter 's now
    "At the true juncture slipping us so oft.
    "Ay, Heinrich died and Otho, please you, doffed
    "His crown at such a juncture! Still, if hold
    "Our Friedrich's purpose, if this chain enfold
    "The neck of . . . who but this same Ecelin
    "That must recoil when the best days begin!
    "Recoil? that 's nought; if the recoiler leaves
    "His name for me to fight with, no one grieves:
    "But he must interfere, forsooth, unlock
    "His cloister to become my stumbling-block
    "Just as of old! Ay, ay, there 't is again
    "The land's inevitable Head explain
    "The reverences that subject us! Count
    "These Ecelins now! Not to say as fount,
    "Originating power of thought, from twelve
    "That drop i' the trenches they joined hands to delve,
    "Six shall surpass him, but . . . why men must twine
    "Somehow with something! Ecelin 's a fine
    "Clear name! 'Twere simpler, doubtless, twine with me
    "At once: our cloistered friend's capacity
    "Was of a sort! I had to share myself
    "In fifty portions, like an o'ertasked elf
    "That 's forced illume in fifty points the vast
    "Rare vapour he 's environed by. At last
    "My strengths, though sorely frittered, e'en converge
    "And crown . . . no, Bacchus, they have yet to urge
    "The man be crowned!


    "That aloe, an he durst,
    "Would climb! Just such a bloated sprawler first
    "I noted in Messina's castle-court
    "The day I came, when Heinrich asked in sport
    "If I would pledge my faith to win him back
    "His right in Lombardy: 'for, once bid pack
    "Marauders,' he continued, `in my stead
    "'You rule, Taurello!' and upon this head
    `Laid the silk glove of Constance I see her
    "Too, mantled head to foot in miniver,
    "Retrude following!


    "I am absolved
    "From further toil: the empery devolved
    "On me, 't was Tito's word: I have to lay
    "For once my plan, pursue my plan my way,
    "Prompt nobody, and render an account
    "Taurello to Taurello! Nay, I mount
    "To Friedrich: he conceives the post I kept,
    "Who did true service, able or inept,
    "Who 's worthy guerdon, Ecelin or I.
    "Me guerdoned, counsel follows: would he vie
    "With the Pope really? Azzo, Boniface
    "Compose a right-arm Hohenstauffen's race
    "Must break ere govern Lombardy. I point
    "How easy 't were to twist, once out of joint,
    "The socket from the bone: my Azzo's stare
    "Meanwhile! for I, this idle strap to wear,
    "Shall fret myself abundantly, what end
    "To serve? There 's left me twenty years to spend
    "How better than my old way? Had I one
    "Who laboured overthrow my work a son
    "Hatching with Azzo superb treachery,
    "To root my pines up and then poison me,
    "Suppose 't were worth while frustrate that! Beside,
    "Another life's ordained me: the world's tide
    "Rolls, and what hope of parting from the press
    "Of waves, a single wave though weariness
    "Gently lifted aside, laid upon shore?
    "My life must be lived out in foam and roar,
    "No question. Fifty years the province held
    "Taurello; troubles raised, and troubles quelled,
    "He in the midst who leaves this quaint stone place,
    "These trees a year or two, then not a trace
    "Of him! How obtain hold, fetter men's tongues
    "Like this poor minstrel with the foolish songs
    "To which, despite our bustle, he is linked?
    " Flowers one may teaze, that never grow extinct.
    "Ay, that patch, surely, green as ever, where
    "I set Her Moorish lentisk, by the stair,
    "To overawe the aloes; and we trod
    "Those flowers, how call you such? into the sod;
    "A stately foreigner a world of pain
    "To make it thrive, arrest rough winds all vain!
    "It would decline; these would not be destroyed:
    "And now, where is it? where can you avoid
    "The flowers? I frighten children twenty years
    "Longer! which way, too, Ecelin appears
    "To thwart me, for his son's besotted youth
    "Gives promise of the proper tiger tooth:
    "They feel it at Vicenza! Fate, fate, fate,
    "My fine Taurello! Go you, promulgate
    "Friedrich's decree, and here 's shall aggrandise
    "Young Ecelin your Prefect's badge! a prize
    "Too precious, certainly.


    "How now? Compete
    "With my old comrade? shuffle from their seat
    "His children? Paltry dealing! Do n't I know
    "Ecelin? now, I think, and years ago!
    "What 's changed the weakness? did not I compound
    "For that, and undertake to keep him sound
    "Despite it? Here 's Taurello hankering
    "After a boy's preferment this plaything
    "To carry, Bacchus!" And he laughed.


    Remark
    Why schemes wherein cold-blooded men embark
    Prosper, when your enthusiastic sort
    Fail: while these last are ever stopping short
    (So much they should so little they can do!)
    The careless tribe see nothing to pursue
    If they desist; meantime their scheme succeeds.


    Thoughts were caprices in the course of deeds
    Methodic with Taurello; so, he turned,
    Enough amused by fancies fairly earned
    Of Este's horror-struck submitted neck,
    And Richard, the cowed braggart, at his beck,
    To his own petty but immediate doubt
    If he could pacify the League without
    Conceding Richard; just to this was brought
    That interval of vain discursive thought!
    As, shall I say, some Ethiop, past pursuit
    Of all enslavers, dips a shackled foot
    Burnt to the blood, into the drowsy black
    Enormous watercourse which guides him back
    To his own tribe again, where he is king;
    And laughs because he guesses, numbering
    The yellower poison-wattles on the pouch
    Of the first lizard wrested from its couch
    Under the slime (whose skin, the while, he strips
    To cure his nostril with, and festered lips,
    And eyeballs bloodshot through the desert-blast)
    That he has reached its boundary, at last
    May breathe; thinks o'er enchantments of the South
    Sovereign to plague his enemies, their mouth,
    Eyes, nails, and hair; but, these enchantments tried
    In fancy, puts them soberly aside
    For truth, projects a cool return with friends,
    The likelihood of winning mere amends
    Ere long; thinks that, takes comfort silently,
    Then, from the river's brink, his wrongs and he,
    Hugging revenge close to their hearts, are soon
    Off-striding for the Mountains of the Moon.


    Midnight: the watcher nodded on his spear,
    Since clouds dispersing left a passage clear
    For any meagre and discoloured moon
    To venture forth; and such was peering soon
    Above the harassed city her close lanes
    Closer, not half so tapering her fanes,
    As though she shrunk into herself to keep
    What little life was saved, more safely. Heap
    By heap the watch-fires mouldered, and beside
    The blackest spoke Sordello and replied
    Palma with none to listen. "'T is your cause:
    "What makes a Ghibellin? There should be laws
    "(Remember how my youth escaped! I trust
    "To you for manhood, Palma! tell me just
    "As any child) there must be laws at work
    "Explaining this. Assure me, good may lurk
    "Under the bad, my multitude has part
    "In your designs, their welfare is at heart
    "With Salinguerra, to their interest
    "Refer the deeds he dwelt on, so divest
    "Our conference of much that scared me. Why
    "Affect that heartless tone to Tito? I
    "Esteemed myself, yes, in my inmost mind
    "This morn, a recreant to my race mankind
    "O'erlooked till now: why boast my spirit's force,
    "Such force denied its object? why divorce
    "These, then admire my spirit's flight the same
    "As though it bore up, helped some half-orbed flame
    "Else quenched in the dead void, to living space?
    "That orb cast off to chaos and disgrace,
    "Why vaunt so much my unencumbered dance,
    "Making a feat's facilities enhance
    "Its marvel? But I front Taurello, one
    "Of happier fate, and all I should have done,
    "He does; the people's good being paramount
    "With him, their progress may perhaps account
    "For his abiding still; whereas you heard
    "The talk with Tito the excuse preferred
    "For burning those five hostages, and broached
    "By way of blind, as you and I approached,
    "I do believe."


    She spoke: then he, "My thought
    "Plainlier expressed! All to your profit nought
    "Meantime of these, of conquests to achieve
    "For them, of wretchedness he might relieve
    "While profiting your party. Azzo, too,
    "Supports a cause: what cause? Do Guelfs pursue
    "Their ends by means like yours, or better?"


    When
    The Guelfs were proved alike, men weighed with men,
    And deed with deed, blaze, blood, with blood and blaze,
    Morn broke: "Once more, Sordello, meet its gaze
    "Proudly the people's charge against thee fails
    "In every point, while either party quails!
    "These are the busy ones: be silent thou!
    "Two parties take the world up, and allow
    "No third, yet have one principle, subsist
    "By the same injustice; whoso shall enlist
    "With either, ranks with man's inveterate foes.
    "So there is one less quarrel to compose:
    "The Guelf, the Ghibellin may be to curse
    "I have done nothing, but both sides do worse
    "Than nothing. Nay, to me, forgotten, reft
    "Of insight, lapped by trees and flowers, was left
    "The notion of a service ha? What lured
    "Me here, what mighty aim was I assured
    "Must move Taurello? What if there remained
    "A cause, intact, distinct from these, ordained
    "For me, its true discoverer?"


    Some one pressed
    Before them here, a watcher, to suggest
    The subject for a ballad: "They must know
    "The tale of the dead worthy, long ago
    "Consul of Rome that 's long ago for us,
    "Minstrels and bowmen, idly squabbling thus
    `In the world's corner but too late no doubt,
    "For the brave time he sought to bring about.
    " Not know Crescentius Nomentanus?" Then
    He cast about for terms to tell him, when
    Sordello disavowed it, how they used
    Whenever their Superior introduced
    A novice to the Brotherhood ("for I
    "Was just a brown-sleeve brother, merrily
    "Appointed too," quoth he, "till Innocent
    "Bade me relinquish, to my small content,
    "My wife or my brown sleeves") some brother spoke
    Ere nocturns of Crescentius, to revoke
    The edict issued, after his demise,
    Which blotted fame alike and effigies,
    All out except a floating power, a name
    Including, tending to produce the same
    Great act. Rome, dead, forgotten, lived at least
    Within that brain, though to a vulgar priest
    And a vile stranger, two not worth a slave
    Of Rome's, Pope John, King Otho, fortune gave
    The rule there: so, Crescentius, haply dressed
    In white, called Roman Consul for a jest,
    Taking the people at their word, forth stepped
    As upon Brutus' heel, nor ever kept
    Rome waiting, stood erect, and from his brain
    Gave Rome out on its ancient place again,
    Ay, bade proceed with Brutus' Rome, Kings styled
    Themselves mere citizens of, and, beguiled
    Into great thoughts thereby, would choose the gem
    Out of a lapfull, spoil their diadem
    The Senate's cypher was so hard to scratch
    He flashes like a phanal, all men catch
    The flame, Rome 's just accomplished! when returned
    Otho, with John, the Consul's step had spurned,
    And Hugo Lord of Este, to redress
    The wrongs of each. Crescentius in the stress
    Of adverse fortune bent. "They crucified
    "Their Consul in the Forum; and abide
    "E'er since such slaves at Rome, that I (for I
    "Was once a brown-sleeve brother, merrily
    "Appointed) I had option to keep wife
    "Or keep brown sleeves, and managed in the strife
    "Lose both. A song of Rome!"


    And Rome, indeed,
    Robed at Goito in fantastic weed,
    The Mother-City of his Mantuan days,
    Looked an established point of light whence rays
    Traversed the world; for, all the clustered homes
    Beside of men, seemed bent on being Romes
    In their degree; the question was, how each
    Should most resemble Rome, clean out of reach.
    Nor, of the Two, did either principle
    Struggle to change, but to possess Rome, still
    Guelf Rome or Ghibellin Rome.


    Let Rome advance!
    Rome, as she struck Sordello's ignorance
    How could he doubt one moment? Rome 's the Cause!
    Rome of the Pandects, all the world's new laws
    Of the Capitol, of Castle Angelo;
    New structures, that inordinately glow,
    Subdued, brought back to harmony, made ripe
    By many a relic of the archetype
    Extant for wonder; every upstart church
    That hoped to leave old temples in the lurch,
    Corrected by the Theatre forlorn
    That, as a mundane shell, its world late born,
    Lay and o'ershadowed it. These hints combined,
    Rome typifies the scheme to put mankind
    Once more in full possession of their rights.
    "Let us have Rome again! On me it lights
    "To build up Rome on me, the first and last:
    "For such a future was endured the past!"
    And thus, in the grey twilight, forth he sprung
    To give his thought consistency among
    The very People let their facts avail
    Finish the dream grown from the archer's tale.



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