Gods, Saints & Men By Eugene Lee-Hamilton ... With Ten Full-Page Illustartions Designed by Enrico Mazzanti |
 |
 |
|
THE DEATH OF THE DUCHESS
ISABELLA. |
 | Gods, Saints & Men |  |
123
THE DEATH OF THE DUCHESS ISABELLA.
Now have half of the kisses been given:
Fifty remain: one at morn, one at even,
Oh how slowly the sand in the timeglass slips,
Till at sunset again I shall touch its lips.”
Fifty remain: one at morn, one at even,
Oh how slowly the sand in the timeglass slips,
Till at sunset again I shall touch its lips.”
“Mistress, sweet Mistress, beware, oh beware,
Kiss not the portrait, nor mutter the prayer,
Cease while 'tis time, for it hideth a snare.”
Kiss not the portrait, nor mutter the prayer,
Cease while 'tis time, for it hideth a snare.”
“Hush, little handmaid, and fear not the spell;
The Ducal Astrologer loveth me well,
When I have counted the last, not before,
Will the Duke seek my chamber and love me once more.”
The Ducal Astrologer loveth me well,
When I have counted the last, not before,
Will the Duke seek my chamber and love me once more.”
“Oh Mistress, refrain; since these kisses began,
Thy hand has grown thin, and thy cheek has grown wan,
Oh much I mistrust both the spell and the man.”
Thy hand has grown thin, and thy cheek has grown wan,
Oh much I mistrust both the spell and the man.”
124
“Hush, little maid, if my looks are such,
'Tis from loss of his love and from weeping o'er-much;
If my hand is thin, 'tis from chafe and fret,
That the hundredth kiss is so distant yet.”
'Tis from loss of his love and from weeping o'er-much;
If my hand is thin, 'tis from chafe and fret,
That the hundredth kiss is so distant yet.”
“Duchess, sweet Duchess, oh let me speak;
Little thou knowest how changed is thy cheek,
Evil will come of this sinister freak.”
Little thou knowest how changed is thy cheek,
Evil will come of this sinister freak.”
“Give me the mirror. 'Tis strange, very strange,
What can account at my years for the change?
For my features, though pale, are as youthful as ever,
Give me the scissors; this lock I must sever.”
What can account at my years for the change?
For my features, though pale, are as youthful as ever,
Give me the scissors; this lock I must sever.”
“She sees what I've noticed since yesterday night,
And what secretly fills me with grief and with fright:
Her tresses of gold at the roots have turned white.
And what secretly fills me with grief and with fright:
Her tresses of gold at the roots have turned white.
“The sixtieth kiss will to-night be complete.
Oh the lips of the picture are passing sweet;
But sweeter his own; and soon he will shower,
These kisses all back; as in love's first hour.”
Oh the lips of the picture are passing sweet;
But sweeter his own; and soon he will shower,
These kisses all back; as in love's first hour.”
125
“Oh kiss it no more; for strange stories are told,
About the Astrologer: death has he sold;
Well is it known that he lives but for gold.
About the Astrologer: death has he sold;
Well is it known that he lives but for gold.
“Oh, my hot head splits, and I fain would sleep,
The wings of these moments are clipped: they creep.
Unfasten my ruff: it is over-starched,
Give me to drink; for my throat is parched.”
The wings of these moments are clipped: they creep.
Unfasten my ruff: it is over-starched,
Give me to drink; for my throat is parched.”
(“Her eyes look strange, with dark circles beneath),
Oh Mistress, dost know that with bated breath,
Men whisper the Duke is resolved on thy death?”
Oh Mistress, dost know that with bated breath,
Men whisper the Duke is resolved on thy death?”
“That well might be, for he loves me not now,
But the hundredth kiss will regain him, I trow,
A harlot hath stolen his heart away,
The sixty-ninth kiss hath been given to-day.”
But the hundredth kiss will regain him, I trow,
A harlot hath stolen his heart away,
The sixty-ninth kiss hath been given to-day.”
“The Duke and the Alchemist deep in the wood,
Were met by my brother, who ill understood
That which they said; but it boded no good.”
Were met by my brother, who ill understood
That which they said; but it boded no good.”
“Thy brother deserves the severest rebuke,
For spreading such tales: miles away is the Duke,
Give me to drink. (Oh that horrible pain,
Like the stab of a knife has pierced me again).”
For spreading such tales: miles away is the Duke,
Give me to drink. (Oh that horrible pain,
Like the stab of a knife has pierced me again).”
126
“Mistress, sweet Mistress, desist, oh desist,
Never again must the picture be kissed,
Wilt thou thy handmaid's entreaties resist?”
Never again must the picture be kissed,
Wilt thou thy handmaid's entreaties resist?”
“Help me to walk to the picture. Not yet,
Alas, may I kiss it! the sun has not set.
Yes, thou art right; I am ill, very ill;
But not from the kisses. They're twenty-nine still.”
Alas, may I kiss it! the sun has not set.
Yes, thou art right; I am ill, very ill;
But not from the kisses. They're twenty-nine still.”
“There hangs all about it a strange sickly taint;
And the canvas shines through, where the lips have grown faint:
Her seventy kisses have eaten the paint.”
And the canvas shines through, where the lips have grown faint:
Her seventy kisses have eaten the paint.”
“Tell me, my handmaid? didst never behold
The woman he loves? Has she tresses of gold,
As long and as wavy, as glossy and fine,
Or fingers as white and as tapered as mine?”
The woman he loves? Has she tresses of gold,
As long and as wavy, as glossy and fine,
Or fingers as white and as tapered as mine?”
“How should I see her? To thee I am tied;
But much I have heard of her insolent pride,
As if she were Duchess she rides by his side.”
But much I have heard of her insolent pride,
As if she were Duchess she rides by his side.”
“Let her exult, till the hundredth kiss
Between their two hearts shall create an abyss!
And then let her learn, when of love she is robbed
To sob in the twilight as oft I have sobbed.”
Between their two hearts shall create an abyss!
And then let her learn, when of love she is robbed
To sob in the twilight as oft I have sobbed.”
127
“She thinks of nought else. Ah that portrait accursed,
How quick I would burn it if only I durst,
But I shrink from the terrible storm that would burst.”
How quick I would burn it if only I durst,
But I shrink from the terrible storm that would burst.”
“Give me thy hand; let me lean on thy shoulder,
My limbs, though 'tis August, grow colder and colder,
And the cold of my feet rises higher and higher,
But give me to drink, my throat is on fire.
My limbs, though 'tis August, grow colder and colder,
And the cold of my feet rises higher and higher,
But give me to drink, my throat is on fire.
“The water she asks for would float a ship,
But when holding the glass she can scarcely sip,
All swollen and black is her nether lip.”
But when holding the glass she can scarcely sip,
All swollen and black is her nether lip.”
“Pray open the window; a sweet breeze is sighing,
Dost know, little maiden? I think I am dying;
If only I reach to the hundredth and see
His face on the threshold, death painless will be.
Dost know, little maiden? I think I am dying;
If only I reach to the hundredth and see
His face on the threshold, death painless will be.
“Oh speak not of dying, my Duchess dear,
Thy body is fevered, but death is not near.
(I feel, though I hide it, a horrible fear.”)
Thy body is fevered, but death is not near.
(I feel, though I hide it, a horrible fear.”)
“A song of my childhood, a beautiful song,
Runs in my head; but the words are all wrong,
“‘The wren in her nest, and the mouse in his hole,’
It's something like that: no, I think it's the mole.”
Runs in my head; but the words are all wrong,
128
It's something like that: no, I think it's the mole.”
“‘The robin and wren have new feathered their nest;
And the dormouse and mole in new velvet are drest;’
That's the song, is it not? Shall I sing thee the rest?”
And the dormouse and mole in new velvet are drest;’
That's the song, is it not? Shall I sing thee the rest?”
Mark how the clouds on the sunset are drifting!
I see many faces perpetually shifting;
There's the head of the Duke: how they move, how they move!
It has changed to a wolf. Is't a wolf that I love?”
I see many faces perpetually shifting;
There's the head of the Duke: how they move, how they move!
It has changed to a wolf. Is't a wolf that I love?”
“Methinhs that she wanders, as rageth her fever;
The thought of the Duke not one moment doth leave her,
On the number of kisses I'll try to deceive her.”
The thought of the Duke not one moment doth leave her,
On the number of kisses I'll try to deceive her.”
“Thou liest. The number is seventy-seven,
The seventy-eighth will at sunset be given,
My head grows enormous, nor ceases to swell,
More water, more water. I think this is Hell.”
The seventy-eighth will at sunset be given,
My head grows enormous, nor ceases to swell,
More water, more water. I think this is Hell.”
“Each moment more desperate groweth her state,
The leech that I sent for, appears not; 'tis late,
'Tis clear he's been stopped by the guard at the gate.
The leech that I sent for, appears not; 'tis late,
'Tis clear he's been stopped by the guard at the gate.
129
“Help me across to the picture: the sun,
Approaches the level; its journey is done,
Hold me securely, or else I shall fall;
The floor seems to stagger—I'll hold to the wall.”
Approaches the level; its journey is done,
Hold me securely, or else I shall fall;
The floor seems to stagger—I'll hold to the wall.”
“Oh Mistress, sweet Mistress, dost hear me entreat,
Thou seest, no more can'st thou keep on thy feet,
Oh do not that kiss of damnation repeat!”
Thou seest, no more can'st thou keep on thy feet,
Oh do not that kiss of damnation repeat!”
“Where is the Picture? my sight is grown dim,
My senses uncertain, and all things swim,
Look at the sun; let me know when it dips,
Where are the lips of the picture, the lips?”
My senses uncertain, and all things swim,
Look at the sun; let me know when it dips,
Where are the lips of the picture, the lips?”
“My Mistress, sweet Mistress, oh take to your bed.
She falls, and her body is heavy as lead,
Help, help! Is there no one? The Duchess is dead!”
She falls, and her body is heavy as lead,
Help, help! Is there no one? The Duchess is dead!”
| Gods, Saints & Men | |