 | The New Medusa, and other poems |  |
29
A BALLAD OF THE PLAGUE OF FLORENCE.
A.D. 1348.
In some corpse-strewn plain of the sun-baked East
Or some foul dark prison, the Plague had arisen,
And had leapt on the back of the Wind;
For the children of men overmuch had increased,
It was time that their crowds should be thinned.
Or some foul dark prison, the Plague had arisen,
And had leapt on the back of the Wind;
For the children of men overmuch had increased,
It was time that their crowds should be thinned.
And the Wind with the Plague over Florence arrived,
As many a tower was striking the hour,
For men to seek rest without fear;
And a hum uprose, as of bees new hived,
From the streets, that was pleasant to hear.
As many a tower was striking the hour,
For men to seek rest without fear;
And a hum uprose, as of bees new hived,
From the streets, that was pleasant to hear.
And the morrow a many a knell was tolled,
Nor ceased the bells to sound the knells,
Till the ringers turned black and dropped;
Nor the biers to pass by till, relaxing their hold
The carriers staggered and stopped.
Nor ceased the bells to sound the knells,
Till the ringers turned black and dropped;
Nor the biers to pass by till, relaxing their hold
The carriers staggered and stopped.
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Then neighbour would neighbour suspiciously meet,
And would eye him askance with a searching glance,
And the sound of men's labour was hushed;
Yea, they started aghast, as they passed in the street,
If by chance 'gainst each other they brushed.
And would eye him askance with a searching glance,
And the sound of men's labour was hushed;
Yea, they started aghast, as they passed in the street,
If by chance 'gainst each other they brushed.
And the lover would shudder on touching the tips
Of the fingers fair, or the locks of hair
That he loved, but were laden with death;
And would shrink from the kiss of Love's blackening lips,
As if hell were contained in a breath.
Of the fingers fair, or the locks of hair
That he loved, but were laden with death;
And would shrink from the kiss of Love's blackening lips,
As if hell were contained in a breath.
And father bade son from his doorstep avaunt,
If but gleamed his eye, and would let him die
In the streets like a dog, without help;
For Fear makes men wild as the wolves that haunt
Round the sheepfold at night and yelp.
If but gleamed his eye, and would let him die
In the streets like a dog, without help;
For Fear makes men wild as the wolves that haunt
Round the sheepfold at night and yelp.
Through a veil of horror the sun seemed black,
And the limpid air seemed too dense for prayer
To reach to the throne on high;
As, faster and faster pursuing its track,
The invisible scythe swept by.
And the limpid air seemed too dense for prayer
To reach to the throne on high;
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The invisible scythe swept by.
And high o'er the wail of the trembling crowd,
And the cries to Heaven of souls unshriven,
Rose strumming, and filthy song,
And the rattle of dice, and the laughter loud
Of the dying and ghastly throng.
And the cries to Heaven of souls unshriven,
Rose strumming, and filthy song,
And the rattle of dice, and the laughter loud
Of the dying and ghastly throng.
O thou great and strong God, cried each strong heart then,
Is this guilty Florence Thy eyes' abhorrence?
Is it doomed like the Towns of the Plain?
Though worse is this rotting and dropping of men
Than the falling of fiery rain!
Is this guilty Florence Thy eyes' abhorrence?
Is it doomed like the Towns of the Plain?
Though worse is this rotting and dropping of men
Than the falling of fiery rain!
But the unseen Mower, with his unseen scythe,
Mowed on as through grass, through the populous mass,
Till his arm seemed slowly to tire;
And of what had been Florence remained but a tithe
To relate God's terrible ire.
Mowed on as through grass, through the populous mass,
Till his arm seemed slowly to tire;
And of what had been Florence remained but a tithe
To relate God's terrible ire.
Now just about the time that this selfsame Plague
Was preparing to poison the air with its foison,
There was living in Florence a dame.
She was young and had eyes that were dreamy and vague,
And was known as Ginevra by name.
Was preparing to poison the air with its foison,
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She was young and had eyes that were dreamy and vague,
And was known as Ginevra by name.
And her fame was pure as a pebbly spring,
Though by one accord 'twas said that her lord
Was harsh and ne'er valued her beauty,
And though suffering many a pitiful thing,
She but clung all the more to her duty.
Though by one accord 'twas said that her lord
Was harsh and ne'er valued her beauty,
And though suffering many a pitiful thing,
She but clung all the more to her duty.
She lived in a house which is solid still,
Though the thick stone wall is blackened all
By the centuries five that have flown,
With escutcheon on door and sculptured sill
In the old, old heart of the town.
Though the thick stone wall is blackened all
By the centuries five that have flown,
With escutcheon on door and sculptured sill
In the old, old heart of the town.
There, while squandered her husband his time at play,
His sweet young wife led her weary life,
Secluded from friends and from pleasure
(Though her father was rich and her brothers were gay),
And had nought but the past as a treasure.
His sweet young wife led her weary life,
Secluded from friends and from pleasure
(Though her father was rich and her brothers were gay),
And had nought but the past as a treasure.
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As she sat all unkissed in her chamber and wove
The tapestry flowers, in long lone hours,
She would think of her girlhood and weep;
And her thoughts would revert, though against it she strove,
To the hopes that lay buried deep.
The tapestry flowers, in long lone hours,
She would think of her girlhood and weep;
And her thoughts would revert, though against it she strove,
To the hopes that lay buried deep.
She thought, oh! how different now were her life
Had they let her but wed, long ago, instead,
Antonio, her early love,
Whose dream was to make her the happiest wife
In the face of Heaven above.
Had they let her but wed, long ago, instead,
Antonio, her early love,
Whose dream was to make her the happiest wife
In the face of Heaven above.
For Antonio had been her father's clerk;
And though good his birth and known his worth,
His state had been deemed too lowly;
And she thought as she wept in the twilight and dark
That he now had forgotten her wholly.
And though good his birth and known his worth,
His state had been deemed too lowly;
And she thought as she wept in the twilight and dark
That he now had forgotten her wholly.
But Ginevra was wrong; for that love is but hollow
Which, robbed of hope, doth flap and drop
Like a windless sail on the mast:
And his joy was to follow
Her life of each day as it passed.
Which, robbed of hope, doth flap and drop
Like a windless sail on the mast:
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Her life of each day as it passed.
He would watch in the aisle of the church, where the streams
Of crimson light fell warm and bright,
As her prayers on the tombstones she said;
And would envy the dead who could hear in their dreams
Her whispered words overhead.
Of crimson light fell warm and bright,
As her prayers on the tombstones she said;
And would envy the dead who could hear in their dreams
Her whispered words overhead.
He would lurk at dusk in the lonely street
Till her lamp should be lit and her shadow should flit,
Like a restless bird, on the blind;
And with painful tightening his heart would beat
As he pictured the room behind.
Till her lamp should be lit and her shadow should flit,
Like a restless bird, on the blind;
And with painful tightening his heart would beat
As he pictured the room behind.
And he found a spot whence, with cruel delight,
He could see the lady as she walked in her shady
Court, which high walls defended;
And he scaled them to pluck, like a thief in the night,
Some flower her hand had tended.
He could see the lady as she walked in her shady
Court, which high walls defended;
And he scaled them to pluck, like a thief in the night,
Some flower her hand had tended.
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Well, the Plague broke out; and more closely than ever
Indoors she was pent, and her dull days spent
Till her cheeks' waning roses had died,
While Francesco her husband all ties had to sever
With the perilous world outside.
Indoors she was pent, and her dull days spent
Till her cheeks' waning roses had died,
While Francesco her husband all ties had to sever
With the perilous world outside.
And he feared for his life, and his fear made him cruel,
As death each day swept great crowds away,
And all on Ginevra was vented;
For he knew of Antonio, and hatred found fuel
In wrongs that his fancy invented.
As death each day swept great crowds away,
And all on Ginevra was vented;
For he knew of Antonio, and hatred found fuel
In wrongs that his fancy invented.
And it chanced that he went to her chamber one day,
And o'erwhelmed her awhile with language vile;
And he struck her a blow as he left,
And when he returned in the evening she lay
On the ground, of all motion bereft.
And o'erwhelmed her awhile with language vile;
And he struck her a blow as he left,
And when he returned in the evening she lay
On the ground, of all motion bereft.
A waxen mass is more bloodless not
Than her face was now; and more cold was her brow
Than her pillow the marble floor;
While her loosened dress showed a blackening spot
On her bosom that heaved no more.
Than her face was now; and more cold was her brow
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While her loosened dress showed a blackening spot
On her bosom that heaved no more.
And the knees of the coward with terror shook;
For the Plague struck even as fast as from heaven
Descendeth the fiery fork;
He would scarcely approach, but the chamber forsook,
And left to his menials the work
For the Plague struck even as fast as from heaven
Descendeth the fiery fork;
He would scarcely approach, but the chamber forsook,
And left to his menials the work
Of shrouding the body so white and fair,
And of closing the bier in haste and fear,
As even the great were then buried.
And, unfollowed by friend and unhallowed by prayer,
To the family vault she was hurried.
And of closing the bier in haste and fear,
As even the great were then buried.
And, unfollowed by friend and unhallowed by prayer,
To the family vault she was hurried.
Then darkness and silence the city surprised;
Through the alleys lonely there rumbled only
The dead-cart with flickering light;
And the silent church, where she lay with the dead,
Was more silent than ever that night.
Through the alleys lonely there rumbled only
The dead-cart with flickering light;
And the silent church, where she lay with the dead,
Was more silent than ever that night.
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The round moon rose, and her white light crept
Through the painted panes to the columned lanes
Of the aisles with their ornaments pale,
And turned the stone garb of the knights who there slept
Into something like silvery mail.
Through the painted panes to the columned lanes
Of the aisles with their ornaments pale,
And turned the stone garb of the knights who there slept
Into something like silvery mail.
But all of a sudden the silence ceased,
And a sound of sighs and of muffled cries
Rose up from the vault below;
Then an echo of planks, and a sound which increased,
As of movements uncertain and slow.
And a sound of sighs and of muffled cries
Rose up from the vault below;
Then an echo of planks, and a sound which increased,
As of movements uncertain and slow.
And the door revolved of the steep vault stairs,
And a woman staggered, convulsed and haggard,
Across the broad nave to the street;
And she hid her breast with her long loose hair,
And her limbs with a funeral sheet.
And a woman staggered, convulsed and haggard,
Across the broad nave to the street;
And she hid her breast with her long loose hair,
And her limbs with a funeral sheet.
For Ginevra had risen from out of her tomb,
And the plague-spot dark had been but the mark
Of the blow that her cruel lord gave;
And through ill-closed doors the friendly moon
Had helped her to leave her grave.
And the plague-spot dark had been but the mark
Of the blow that her cruel lord gave;
And through ill-closed doors the friendly moon
Had helped her to leave her grave.
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And she threaded her way in her awful plight,
Down the stony street with injured feet,
To her father's house which was near;
And the few whom she met at her white shroud's sight
Fled wildly before her in fear.
Down the stony street with injured feet,
To her father's house which was near;
And the few whom she met at her white shroud's sight
Fled wildly before her in fear.
At her father's door she stood and knocked,
Till a window at last was open cast,
But at once it was slammed with a shriek,
And though long she implored, not again was't unlocked,
For none cared with a spectre to speak.
Till a window at last was open cast,
But at once it was slammed with a shriek,
And though long she implored, not again was't unlocked,
For none cared with a spectre to speak.
So she wandered on with a waning strength
Till she stood before her husband's door,
In her grave-clothes scanty and weird,
And shouted and knocked till Francesco at length
Himself at the window appeared.
Till she stood before her husband's door,
In her grave-clothes scanty and weird,
And shouted and knocked till Francesco at length
Himself at the window appeared.
And she cried: “Fear not; I am flesh and blood;
Ginevra, thy wife; not a ghost, but in life;
Though I walk, like a ghost, in a shroud.
Oh, open the door!” and she shivering stood,
And her prayers grew more pressing and loud.
Ginevra, thy wife; not a ghost, but in life;
Though I walk, like a ghost, in a shroud.
Oh, open the door!” and she shivering stood,
And her prayers grew more pressing and loud.
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But he, answering nothing, looked down for a while
At her bare white feet, and the moonlit street,
Which pointed stones did pave;
Then he suddenly said, with a sinister smile,
“Wert thou not at thy ease in thy grave?
At her bare white feet, and the moonlit street,
Which pointed stones did pave;
Then he suddenly said, with a sinister smile,
“Wert thou not at thy ease in thy grave?
“Plague-struck or not thou hast jostled the dead,
And trodden the alleys where the great foe sallies,
By whom we all fear to be clutched;
So seek thou a shelter elsewhere for thy head,
For I know not whom thou hast touched.”
And trodden the alleys where the great foe sallies,
By whom we all fear to be clutched;
So seek thou a shelter elsewhere for thy head,
For I know not whom thou hast touched.”
And the window closed with a quick harsh sound,
And opened no more, though, with prayers long and sore,
The night of its silence she robbed,
Till at last she sat down on the pitiless ground,
In her shroud in the moonlight, and sobbed.
And opened no more, though, with prayers long and sore,
The night of its silence she robbed,
Till at last she sat down on the pitiless ground,
In her shroud in the moonlight, and sobbed.
And as she sat with no counsel nigh,
Inert and dejected, and wholly rejected
By men and by Heaven above,
Her thoughts reverted, she knew not why,
To Antonio her early love.
Inert and dejected, and wholly rejected
By men and by Heaven above,
Her thoughts reverted, she knew not why,
To Antonio her early love.
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And she straightway rose, and resumed her way,
Through the sad streets lonely, and halted only
At the door of the house where he dwelt.
And her limbs as she knocked were as cold as clay,
But strange warmth in her heart she felt.
Through the sad streets lonely, and halted only
At the door of the house where he dwelt.
And her limbs as she knocked were as cold as clay,
But strange warmth in her heart she felt.
And she knocked and called, and Antonio heard,
And on seeing her staggered, like a man that's daggered,
While her story she hurriedly told.
And he led her within, never speaking a word,
While she trembled with joy and cold.
And on seeing her staggered, like a man that's daggered,
While her story she hurriedly told.
And he led her within, never speaking a word,
While she trembled with joy and cold.
And he called his mother, and they wrapped her up
In blankets of wool, and with hearts over full.
He bandaged her feet that were bleeding,
And when they were bandaged he gave her to sup,
For sorely some food she was needing.
In blankets of wool, and with hearts over full.
He bandaged her feet that were bleeding,
And when they were bandaged he gave her to sup,
For sorely some food she was needing.
And so, till men's courage (the plague being over)
Began to revive, and the city to thrive,
In the house of Antonio she tarried,
When, strange though it seemeth, one morning her lover
Led Ginevra to church and they married.
Began to revive, and the city to thrive,
In the house of Antonio she tarried,
When, strange though it seemeth, one morning her lover
Led Ginevra to church and they married.
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And Francesco the husband began then and there
A great legal strife to recover his wife
In the archiepiscopal courts;
Of which, in the archives, such persons as care
May find to this day the report.
A great legal strife to recover his wife
In the archiepiscopal courts;
Of which, in the archives, such persons as care
May find to this day the report.
But the lawyers decided, at mighty expense
Of parchment and ink (but with wisdom, I think),
That Francesco did vilely behave;
That Ginevra his wife had been buried long since,
And that all are released by the grave.
Of parchment and ink (but with wisdom, I think),
That Francesco did vilely behave;
That Ginevra his wife had been buried long since,
And that all are released by the grave.
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