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How Lisa loved the King. 
 
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HOW LISA LOVED THE KING 
 
 BY 
 
 GEORGE ELIOT^if^- 
 
 AUTHOR OF "DANIEL DERONDA," "MIDDLEMARCH," 
 "ADAM BEDE," ETC., ETC 
 
 WITH NEW ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 FROM ORIGINAL DESIGNS 
 
 
 my 3 181 ; 
 
 er WASH' 
 
 BOSTON 
 D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY 
 
 FRANKLIN AND HAVVLEY STREETS 
 

 Copyright by 
 
 D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY 
 
 1884 
 
 Presswork by Berioick t^ Smith, 118 Purchase Street, Boston. 
 
How Lisa loved the King. 
 
 Six hundred years ago, in Dante's time, 
 Before his cheek was furrowed by deep rhyme ; 
 When Europe, fed afresh from Eastern story, 
 Was Hke a garden tangled with the glory 
 Of flowers hand-planted and of flowers air-^ 
 
 sown. 
 Climbing and trailing, budding and full-blown. 
 Where purple bells are tossed amid pink stars. 
 And springing blades, green troops in innocent 
 
 wars. 
 Crowd every shady spot of teeming earth, 
 Making invisible motion visible birth, — 
 
8 How Lisa loved the King. 
 
 Six hundred years ago, Palermo town 
 Kept holiday. A deed of great renown, 
 A high revenge, had freed it from the yoke 
 Of hated Frenchmen ; and from Calpe's rock 
 To where the Bosporus caught the earlier sun, 
 Twas told that Pedro, King of Aragon, 
 Was welcomed master of all Sicily, — 
 A royal knight, supreme as kings should be 
 In strength and gentleness that make high chiv- 
 alry. 
 
 Spain was the favorite home of knightly grace, 
 Where generous men rode steeds of generous 
 
 race; 
 Both Spanish, yet half Arab ; both inspires? 
 By mutual spirit, that each motion fired 
 With beauteous response, like minstrels) 
 Afresh fulfilling fresh expectancy. 
 
How Lisa loved the King. 
 
 So, when Palermo made high festival, 
 The joy of matrons and of maidens all 
 Was the mock terror of the tournament, 
 Where safety, with the glimpse of danger blent, 
 Took exaltation as from epic song, 
 Which greatly tells the pains that to great life 
 belong. 
 
 And in all eyes King Pedro was the king 
 
 Of cavaliers ; as in a full-gemmed ring 
 
 The largest ruby, or as that bright star 
 
 Whose shining shows us where the Hyads are. 
 
 His the best genet, and he sat it best ; 
 
 His weapon, whether tilting or in rest. 
 
 Was worthiest watching ; and his face, once 
 
 seen, 
 Gave to the promise of his royal mien 
 Such rich fulfilment as the opened eyes 
 
10 How Lisa loved the King, 
 
 Of a loved sleeper, or the long-watched rise 
 Of vernal day, whose joy o'er stream and mea- 
 dow flies. 
 
 But of the maiden forms that thick enwreathed 
 The broad piazza, and sweet witchery breathed. 
 With innocent faces budding all arow, 
 From balconies and windows high and low, 
 Who was it felt the deep mysterious glow, 
 The impregnation with supernal fire 
 Of young ideal love, transformed desire, 
 Whose passion is but worship of that Best 
 Taught by the many-mingled creed of each 
 young breast ? 
 
 Twas gentle Lisa, of no noble line, 
 Child of Bernardo, a rich Florentine, 
 Who from his merchant-city hither came 
 To trade in drugs ; yet kept an honest fame, 
 
How Lisa loved tlie Kinz. 1 1 
 
 'i> ' 
 
 And had the virtue not to try and sell 
 
 Drugs that had none. He loved his riches well, 
 
 But loved them chiefly for his Lisa s sake, 
 
 Whom with a father s care he sought to make 
 
 The bride of some true honorable man, — 
 
 Of Perdicone (so the rumor ran), 
 
 Whose birth was higher than his fortunes were , 
 
 For still your trader likes a mixture fair 
 
 Of blood that hurries to some higher strain 
 
 Than reckoning money's loss and money's gain. 
 
 And .of such mixture good may surely come : 
 
 Lord's scions so may learn to cast a sum, 
 
 A trader's grandson bear a well-set head. 
 
 And have less conscious manners, better bred ; 
 
 Nor, when he tries to be polite, be rude instead. 
 
 'Twas Perdicone's friends made overtures 
 To good Bernardo ; so one dame assures 
 Her neighbor dame, who notices the youth 
 
12 How Lisa loved the Kin^, 
 
 "ii* 
 
 Fixing his eyes on Lisa ; and, in truth, 
 Eyes that could see her on this summer day 
 Might find it hard to turn another way. 
 She had a pensive beauty, yet not sad ; 
 Rather Hke minor cadences that glad 
 The hearts of Httle birds amid spring boughs : 
 And oft the trumpet or the joust would rouse 
 Pulses that gave her cheek a finer glow. 
 Parting her lips that seemed a mimic bow 
 By chiselling Love for play in coral wrought. 
 Then quickened by him with the passionate 
 
 thought. 
 The soul that trembled in the lustrous night 
 Of slow long eyes. Her body was so slight, 
 It seemed she could have floated in the sky, 
 And with the angelic choir made symphony ; 
 But in her cheek's rich tinge, and in the dark 
 Of darkest hair and eyes, she bore a mark 
 
How Lisa loved the King, 13 
 
 Of kinship to her generous mother-earth, 
 The fervid land that gives the pkimy palm-trees 
 birth. 
 
 She saw not Perdicone ; her young mind 
 Dreamed not that any man had ever pined 
 For such a little simple maid as she : 
 She had but dreamed how heavenly it would be 
 To love some hero noble, beauteous, great, 
 Who would live stories worthy to narrate, 
 Like Roland, or the warriors of Troy, 
 The Cid, or Amadis, or that fair boy 
 Who conquered every thing beneath the sun, 
 And somehow, some time, died at Babylon 
 Fighting the Moors. For heroes all were good 
 And fair as that archangel who withstood 
 The Evil One, the author of all wrong, — 
 That Evil One who made the French so strong ; 
 
£4 How Lisa loved the King, 
 
 And now the flower of heroes must he be 
 Who drove those tyrants from dear Sicily, 
 So that her maids might walk to vespers tran- 
 quilly. 
 
 Young Lisa saw this hero in the king ; 
 And as wood-lilies that sweet odors bring 
 Might dream the light that opes their modest 
 
 eyne 
 Was llly-odored ; and as rites divine, 
 Round turf-laid altars, or 'neath roofs of stone, 
 Draw sanctity from out the heart alone 
 That loves and worships : so the miniature 
 Perplexed of her soul's world, all virgin pure. 
 Filled with heroic virtues that bright form, 
 Raona's royalty, the finished norm 
 Of horsemanship, the half of chivalry ; 
 For how could generous men avengers be, 
 
How Lisa loved the King. 15 
 
 Save as God's messengers on coursers fleet ? — 
 These, scouring earth, made Spain with Syria 
 
 meet 
 In one self-world where the same right had sway, 
 And good must grow as grew the blessed day. 
 No more : great Love his essence had endued 
 With Pedro's form, and, entering, subdued 
 The soul of Lisa, fervid and intense, 
 Proud in its choice of proud obedience 
 To hardship glorified by perfect reverence. 
 
 Sweet Lisa homeward carried that dire guest, 
 And in her chamber, through the hours of rest, 
 The darkness was alight for her with sheen 
 Of arms, and plumM helm ; and bright between 
 Their commoner gloss, like the pure living spring 
 'Twixt porphyry lips, or living bird's bright wing 
 *Twixt golden wires, the glances of the king 
 
1 6 How Lisa loved the Kin^ 
 
 'e> 
 
 Flashed on her soul, and waked vibrations there 
 Of known delights love-mixed to new and rare : 
 The impalpable dream was turned to breathing 
 
 flesh, 
 Chill thought of summer to the warm close mesh 
 Of sunbeams held between the citron-leaves, 
 Clothing her life of life. Oh ! she believes 
 That she could be content if he but knew 
 (Her poor sm^all self could claim no other due) 
 How Lisa's lowly love had highest reach 
 Of winged passion, whereto winged speech 
 Would be scorched remnants left by mounting 
 
 flame. 
 Though, had she such lame message, were it 
 
 blame 
 To tell what greatness dwelt in her, what rank 
 She held in loving } Modest maidens shrank 
 From telling love that fed on selfish hope ; 
 
How Lisa loved the King. 17 
 
 But love, as hopeless as the shattering song, 
 Wailed for loved beings who have joined the 
 
 throng 
 Of mighty dead ones. . . . Nay, but she was 
 
 weak, 
 Knew only prayers and ballads, could not speak 
 With eloquence, save what dumb creatures have. 
 That with small cries and touches small boons 
 
 crave. 
 
 She watched all day that she might see him pass 
 With knights and ladies ; but she said, " Alas ! 
 Though he should see me, it were all as one 
 He saw a pigeon sitting on the stone 
 Of wall or balcony : some colored spot 
 His eye just sees, his mind regardeth not. 
 I have no music-touch that could bring nigh 
 My love to his soul's hearing. I shall die, 
 
1 8 How Lisa loved the Kinz» 
 
 And be will never know who Lisa was, — 
 The trader's child, whose soaring spirit rose 
 As hedge-born aloe-flowers that rarest years 
 disclose. 
 
 " For were I now a fair deep-breasted queen 
 A-horseback, with blonde hair, and tunic green, 
 Gold-bordered, like Costanza, I should need 
 No change within to make me queenly there : 
 For they the royal-hearted women are 
 Who nobly love the noblest, yet have grace ; 
 For needy suffering lives in lowliest place. 
 Carrying a choicer sunlight in their smile, 
 The heavenliest ray that pitieth the vile. 
 My love is such, it cannot choose but soar 
 Up to the highest ; yet forevermore. 
 Though I were happy, throned beside the king, 
 I should be tender to each little thing 
 
How Lisa loved tJie King, 19 
 
 With hurt warm breast, that had no speech to 
 
 tell 
 Its inward pang ; and I would soothe it well 
 With tender touch, and with a low soft moan 
 For company : my dumb love-pang is lone, 
 Prisoned as topaz-beam within a rough-garbed 
 
 stone." 
 
 So, inward-wailing, Lisa passed her days. 
 
 Each night the August moon with changing 
 
 phase 
 Looked broader, harder, on her unchanged pain ; 
 Each noon the heat lay heavier again 
 On her despair, until her body frail 
 Shrank like the snow that watchers in the vale 
 See narrowed on the height each summer morn ; 
 While her dark glance burnt larger, more forlorn, 
 As if the soul within her, all on fire, 
 
20 How Lisa loved tJie King, 
 
 Made of her being one swift funeral-pyre. 
 Father and mother saw with sad dismay 
 The meaning of their riches melt away ; 
 For without Lisa what would sequins buy ? 
 What wish were left if Lisa were to die ? 
 Through her they cared for summers still to 
 
 come, 
 Else they would be as ghosts without a home 
 In any flesh that could feel glad desire. 
 They pay the best physicians, never tire 
 Of seeking what will soothe her, promising 
 That aught she longed for, though it were a thing 
 Hard to be come at as the Indian snow. 
 Or roses that on Alpine summits blow, 
 It should be hers. She answers with low voice, 
 She longs for death alone — death is her choice ; 
 Death is the king who never did think scorn, 
 But rescues every meanest soul to sorrow born. 
 
Hozv Lisa loved the Kmor, 21 
 
 'ib* 
 
 Yet one day, as they bent above her bed, 
 
 And watched her in brief sleep, her drooping 
 
 head 
 Turned gently, as the thirsty flowers that feel 
 Some moist revival through their petals steal ; 
 And little flutterings of her lids and lips 
 Told of such dreamy joy as sometimes dips 
 A skyey shadow in the mind's poor pool. 
 She oped her eyes, and turned their dark gems 
 
 full 
 Upon her father, as in utterance dumb 
 Of some new prayer that in her sleep had come. 
 '* What is it, Lisa ? " — *' Father, I would see 
 Minuccio, the great singer ; bring him me." 
 For always, night and day, her unstilled thought, 
 Wandering all o'er its little world, had sought 
 How she could reach, by some soft pleading 
 
 touch, 
 
22 How Lisa loved tJie King. 
 
 King Pedro's soul, that she who loved so Pxiuch, 
 Dying, might have a place within his mind, — 
 A little grave which he would sometimes find * 
 And plant some flower on it, — some thought, 
 some memory kind. 
 
 Till in her dream she saw Minuccio 
 Touching his viola, and chanting low 
 A strain, that, falling on her brokenly. 
 Seemed blossoms lightly blown from off a tree ; 
 Each burthened with a word that was a scent, — 
 Raona, Lisa, love, death, tournament ; 
 Then in her dream she said, *' He sings of me, 
 Might be my messenger ; ah ! now I see 
 The king is listening" — Then she awoke. 
 And, missing her dear dream, that new-born 
 longing spoke. 
 
How Lisa loved the King. 23 
 
 She longed for music : that was natural ; 
 Physicians said it was medicinal ; 
 The humors might be schooled by true consent 
 Of a fine tenor and fine instrument ; 
 In short, good music, mixed with doctor's stuff, 
 Apollo with Asklepios — enough ! 
 Minuccio, entreated, gladly came. 
 (He was a singer of most gentle fame, 
 A noble, kindly spirit, not elate 
 That he was famous, but that song was great ; 
 Would sing as finely to this suffering child 
 As at the court where princes on him smiled.) 
 Gently he entered and sat down by her. 
 Asking what sort of strain she would prefer, — 
 The voice alone, or voice with viol wed ; 
 Then, when she chose the last, he preluded 
 With magic hand, that summoned from the 
 strings 
 
24 How Lisa loved the King, 
 
 Aerial spirits, rare yet palpable wings 
 That fanned the pulses of his listener, 
 And waked each sleeping sense with blissful 
 
 stir. 
 Her cheek already showed a slow, faint blush ; 
 But soon the voice, in pure, full, liquid rush. 
 Made all the passion, that till now she felt. 
 Seem but as cooler waters that in warmer melt. 
 
 Finished the song, she prayed to be alone 
 With kind Minuccio ; for her faith had grown 
 To trust him as if missioned like a priest 
 With some high grace, that, when his singing 
 
 ceased. 
 Still made him wiser, more magnanimous, 
 Than common men who had no genius. 
 So, laying her small hand within his palm, 
 She told him how that secret, glorious harm 
 
How Lisa loved the King. 25 
 
 Of loftiest loving had befallen her ; 
 That death, her only hope, most bitter were, 
 If, when she died, her love must perish too 
 As songs unsung, and thoughts unspoken do, 
 Which else might live within another breast. 
 She said, " Minuccio, the grave were rest, 
 If I were sure, that, lying cold and lone. 
 My love, my best of life, had safely flown 
 And nestled in the bosom of the king. 
 See, 'tis a small weak bird, with unfledged wing; 
 But you will carry it for me secretly. 
 And bear it to the king ; then come to me 
 And tell me it is safe, and I shall go 
 Content, knowing that he I love my love doth 
 know." 
 
 Then she wept silently ; but each large tear 
 Made pleading music to the inward ear 
 
26 How Lisa loved the Kinor. 
 
 "i>' 
 
 Of good Minuccio. " Lisa, trust in me/* 
 He said, and kissed her fingers loyally : 
 " It is sweet law to me to do your will, 
 And, ere the sun his round shall thrice fulfil, 
 I hope to bring you news of such rare skill 
 As amulets have, that aches in trusting bosoms 
 still." 
 
 He needed not to pause and first devise 
 How he should tell the king ; for in nowise 
 Were such love -message worthily bested 
 Save in fine verse by music rendered. 
 He sought a poet-friend, a Siennese, 
 And " Mico, mine," he said, ''full oft to please 
 Thy whim of sadness I have sung thee strains 
 To make thee weep in verse : now pa}^ m) 
 
 pains, 
 And write me a canzon divinely sad, 
 
How Lisa loved the King. 27 
 
 Sinlessly passionate, and meekly mad 
 With young despair, speaking a maiden's heart 
 Of fifteen summers, who would fain depart 
 From ripening life's new-urgent mystery, — 
 Love-choice of one too high her love to be, — 
 But cannot yield her breath till she has poured 
 Her strength away in this hot-bleeding word, 
 Telling the secret of her soul to her soul's lord." 
 
 Said Mico, " Nay, that thought is poesy, 
 
 I need but listen as it sings to me. 
 
 Come thou again to-morrow." The third day, 
 
 When linked notes had perfected the lay, 
 
 Minuccio had his summons to the court. 
 
 To make, as he was wont, the moments short 
 
 Of ceremonious dinner to the king. 
 
 This was the time when he had meant to bring 
 
 Melodious message of young Lisa's love • 
 
28 How Lisa loved the Kincr, 
 
 '<b* 
 
 He waited till the air had ceased to move 
 To ringing silver, till Falernian wine 
 Made quickened sense with quietude combine , 
 And then with passionate descant made each 
 ear incline. 
 
 Love, tJioic didst see me, light as ^norning's 
 
 breath, 
 Roaming a garden in a joyous eri'or, 
 • Laughing at chases vain, a happy child. 
 Till of thy conntenance the alluring terror 
 Ln majesty from out the blossoms smiled. 
 From out their life seeming a beauteous Death 
 O Love, who so didst choose me for thine ozvn 
 Taking this little isle to thy great szvay, 
 See now, it is the honor of thy tJirone 
 TJiat what thou gavest perish not away, 
 Nor leave some sweet remembrance to atone 
 
How Lisa loved the King, 29 
 
 By life that will be for the brief life gone : 
 Hear, ere the sJiroiid der these frail limbs be 
 
 throzvn — 
 Sinee every king is vassal unto theey 
 My heart's lord needs innst listen loyally — 
 O tell him I am waiting for my Death I 
 
 Tell Jiimy for that he hath such royal pozver 
 ' Twere hard for hint to think how small a thijtgj 
 Hozv slight a sign, zvonldmake a wealthy dozver 
 For one like me, the bride of that pale king 
 WJiose bed is mine at some swift-nearing honr. 
 Go to my lord, and to his memory bring 
 That happy birthday of my sorrowing, 
 When his large glance made meaner gazers 
 
 glad, 
 Entering the bannei-ed lists : 'twas then I had 
 The wonnd that laid me in the arms of Death. 
 
30 How Lisa loved tJie King, 
 
 Tell him ^ Love, I am a lowly maidy 
 No more tJian any little knot of thyme 
 That he with careless foot may often ti^ead ; 
 Yet lowest fragrance oft will monnt sublime 
 And cleave to things most high and liallowedy 
 As doth the fragrance of my lifes springtime^ 
 My loivly love, that, soaring, seeks to climb 
 Wit Inn J lis thonght, and make a gentle bliss, 
 More blissfnl than if mine, in being Ins : 
 . So shall I live in him, and rest in Death. 
 
 The strain was new. It seemed a pleading cry, 
 
 And yet a rounded, perfect melody, 
 
 Making grief beauteous as the tear-filled eyes 
 
 Of little child at little miseries. 
 
 Trembling at first, then swelling as it rose, 
 
 Like rising light that broad and broader grows, 
 
 It filled the hall, and so possessed the air, 
 
Hozv Lisa loved the King. 31 
 
 That not one living, breathing soul was there, 
 Though dullest, slowest, but was quivering 
 In Music's grasp, and forced to hear her sing. 
 But most such sweet compulsion took the mood 
 Of Pedro (tired of doing what he would). 
 Whether the words which that strange meaning 
 
 bore 
 Were but the poet's feigning, or aught more. 
 Was bounden question, since their aim must be 
 At some imagined or true royalty. 
 He called Minuccio, and bade him tell 
 What poet of the day had writ so well ; 
 For, though they came behind all former rhymes, 
 The verses were not bad for these poor times. 
 " Monsignor, they are only three days old," 
 Minuccio said ; " but it must not be told 
 How this song grew, save to your royal ear." 
 Eager, the king withdrew where none was near, 
 
32 How Lisa loved the King, 
 
 And gave close audience to Minuccio, 
 
 Who meetly told that love-tale meet to know. 
 
 The king had features pliant to confess 
 
 The presence of a manly tenderness, — 
 
 Son, father, brother, lover, blent in one, 
 
 In fine harmonic exaltation ; 
 
 The spirit of religious chivalry. 
 
 He listened, and Minuccio could see 
 
 The tender, generous admiration spread 
 
 O'er all his face, and glorify his head 
 
 With royalty that would have kept its rank. 
 
 Though his brocaded robes to tatters shrank. 
 
 He answered without pause, " So sweet a maid. 
 
 In Nature's own insignia arrayed. 
 
 Though she were come of unmixed trading blood 
 
 That sold and bartered ever since the flood. 
 
 Would have the self-contained and single worth 
 
 Of radiant jewels born in darksome earth. 
 
How Lisa loved the King. 35 
 
 Raona were a shame to Sicily, 
 Letting such love and tears unhonored be : 
 Hasten, Minuccio, tell her that the king 
 To-day will surely visit her when vespers ring." 
 
 Joyful, Minuccio bore the joyous word. 
 And told at full, while none but Lisa heard, 
 How each thing had befallen, sang the song, 
 And, like a patient nurse who would prolong 
 All means of soothing, dwelt upon each tone, 
 Each look, with which the mighty Aragon 
 Marked the high worth his royal heart assigned 
 To that dear place he held in Lisa's mind. 
 She listened till the draughts of pure content 
 Through all her limbs like some new being 
 
 went — 
 Life, not recovered, but untried before, 
 From out the growing world's unmeasured store 
 
34 Hoiv Lisa loved the King, 
 
 Of fuller, better, more divinely mixed. 
 'Twas glad reverse : she had so firmly fixed 
 To die, already seemed to fall a veil 
 Shrouding the inner glow from light of senses 
 pale. 
 
 Her parents, wondering, see her half arise ; 
 Wondering, rejoicing, see her long dark eyes 
 Brimful with clearness, not of 'scaping tears, 
 But of some light ethereal that enspheres 
 Their orbs with calm, some vision newly learnt 
 Where strangest fires erewhile had blindly burnt. 
 She asked to have her soft white robe and band 
 And coral ornaments ; and with her hand 
 She gave her long dark locks a backward fall, 
 Then looked intently in a mirror small, 
 And feared her face might, perhaps, displease 
 the kine: : 
 
\/,9 ^^S.. 
 
 
 
How Lisa loved the King, 35 
 
 " In truth,'* she said, " I am a tiny thing : 
 I was too bold to tell what could such visit 
 bring." 
 
 Meanwhile the king, revolving in his thought 
 
 That innocent passion, was more deeply wrought 
 
 To chivalrous pity ; and at vesper-bell, 
 
 With careless mien which hid his purpose well, 
 
 Went forth on horseback, and, as if by chance 
 
 Passing Bernardo's house, he paused to glance 
 
 At the fine garden of this wealthy man. 
 
 This Tuscan trader turned Palermitan ; 
 
 But, presently dismounting, chose to walk 
 
 Amid the trellises, in gracious talk 
 
 With this same trader, deigning even to ask 
 
 If he had yet fulfilled the father's task 
 
 Of marrying that daughter, whose young charms 
 
 Himself, betwixt the passages of arms, 
 
36 How Lisa loved the King, 
 
 Noted admiringly. '' Monsignor, no, 
 She is not married : that were little woe, 
 Since she has counted barely fifteen years ; 
 But all such hopes of late have turned to fears ; 
 She droops and fades, though, for a space quite 
 
 brief, — 
 Scarce three hours past, — she finds some 
 
 strange relief" 
 The king avised : '' 'Twere dole to all of us. 
 The world should lose a maid so beauteous : 
 Let me now see her ; since I am her liege lord. 
 Her spirits must wage war with death at rny 
 
 strong word." 
 In such Iialf-serious playfulness, he wends. 
 With Lisa's father and two chosen friends. 
 Up to the chamber where she pillowed sits, 
 Watching the door that opening admits 
 A presence as much better than her dreams. 
 
How Lisa loved the King. 37 
 
 As happiness than any longing seems. 
 The king advanced, and, with a reverent kiss 
 Upon her hand, said, " Lady, what is this ? 
 You, whose sweet youth should others' solace be, 
 Pierce all our hearts, languishing piteously. 
 We pray you, for the love of us, be cheered. 
 Nor be too reckless of that life, endeared 
 To us who know your passing worthiness. 
 And count your blooming life as part of our 
 life's bliss." 
 
 Those words, that touch upon her hand from him 
 Whom her soul worshipped, as far seraphim 
 Worship the distant glory, brought some shame 
 Quivering upon her cheek, yet thrilled lier frame 
 With such deep joy she seemed in paradise. 
 In wondering gladness, and in dumb surprise, 
 That bliss could be so blissful. Then she spoke : 
 
38 How Lisa loved tJie King, 
 
 ■" Signer, I was too weak to bear the yoke, 
 The golden yoke, of thoughts too great for me ; 
 That was the ground of my infirmity. 
 But now I pray your grace to have belief 
 That I shall soon be well, nor any more cause 
 grief" 
 
 The king alone perceived the covert sense 
 Of all her words, which made one evidence, 
 With her pure voice and candid loveliness. 
 That he had lost much honor, honoring less 
 That message of her passionate distress. 
 He staid beside her for a little while. 
 With gentle looks and speech, until a smile 
 As placid as a ray of early morn 
 On opening flower-cups o'er her lips was borne 
 When he had left her, and the tidings spread 
 Through all the town, how he had visited 
 
How Lisa loved the King. 39 
 
 The Tuscan trader's daughter, who was sick, 
 Men said it was a royal deed, and cathoHc. 
 
 And Lisa ? She no longer wished for death ; 
 
 But as a poet, who sweet verses saith 
 
 Within his soul, and joys in music there, 
 
 Nor seeks another heaven, nor can bear 
 
 Disturbing pleasures, so was she content, 
 
 Breathing the life of grateful sentiment. 
 
 She thought no maid betrothed could be more 
 
 blest ; 
 For treasure must be valued by the test 
 Of highest excellence and rarity, 
 And her dear joy was best as best could be : 
 There seemed no other crown to her delight, 
 Now the high loved one saw her love aright. 
 Thus her soul thriving on that exquisite mood, 
 Spread like the May -time all its beauteous good 
 
40 How Lisa loved the Kmg, 
 
 O'er the soft bloom of neck and arms and cheek, 
 And strengthened the sweet body, once so weak. 
 Until she rose and walked, and, like a bird 
 With sweetly rippling throat, she made her 
 spring joys heard. 
 
 The king, when he the happy change had seen, 
 Trusted the ear of Constance, his fair queen, 
 With Lisa's innocent secret, and conferred 
 How they should jointly, by their deed and word, 
 Honor this maiden's love, which, like the prayer 
 Of loyal hermits, never thought to share 
 In what it gave. The queen had that chief grace 
 Of womanhood, a heart that can embrace 
 All goodness in another woman's form ; 
 And that same day, ere the sun lay too warm 
 On southern terraces, a messenger 
 Informed Bernardo that the royal pair 
 
How Lisa loved the King, 41 
 
 Would straightway visit him, and celebrate 
 Their gladness at his daughter's happier state, 
 Which they were fain to see. Soon came the 
 
 king 
 On horseback, with his barons, heralding 
 The advent of the queen in courtly state ; 
 And all, descending at the garden gate. 
 Streamed with their feathers, velvet, and bro- 
 cade. 
 Through the pleached alleys, till they, pausing, 
 
 made 
 A lake of splendor 'mid the aloes gray ; 
 When, meekly facing all their proud array, 
 The white-robed Lisa with her parents stood. 
 As some white dove before the gorgeous brood 
 Of dapple-breasted birds born by the Colchian 
 flood. 
 
42 How Lisa loved the King. 
 
 The king and queen, by gracious looks and 
 
 speech, 
 Encourage her, and thus their courtiers teach 
 How, this fair morning, they may courtHest be. 
 By making Lisa pass it happily. 
 And soon the ladies and the barons all 
 Draw her by turns, as at a festival 
 Made for her sake, to easy, gay discourse, 
 And compliment with looks and smiles enforce ; 
 A joyous hum is Heard the gardens round ; 
 Soon there is Spanish dancing, and the sound 
 Of minstrel's song, and autumn fruits are pluckt ; 
 Till mindfully the king and queen conduct 
 Lisa apart to where a trellised shade 
 Made pleasant resting. Then King Pedro said, — 
 " Excellent niaiden, that rich gift of love 
 Your heart hath made us hath a worth above 
 All royal treasures, nor is fitly met 
 
■^-N"^ .'^^'f J 1 1,1) A, , . 
 
How Lisa loved the Ki/i^, 43 
 
 Save when the grateful memory of deep debt 
 Lies still behind the outward honors done : 
 And as a sign that no oblivion 
 Shall overflood that faithful memory, 
 We while we Jive your cavalier will be ; 
 Nor will we ever arm ourselves for fight, 
 Whether for struggle dire, or brief delight 
 Of warlike feigning, but we first will take 
 The colors you ordain, and for your sake 
 Charge the more bravely where your emblem is : 
 Nor will we claim from you an added bliss 
 To our sweet thoughts of you save one sole kiss. 
 But there still rests the outward honor meet 
 To mark your worthiness ; and we entreat 
 That you will turn your ear to proffered vows 
 Of one who loves you, and would be your spouse 
 We must not wrong yourself and Sicily 
 By letting all your blooming years pass by 
 
44 How Lisa loved the King, 
 
 Unmated : you will give the world its due 
 From beauteous maiden, and become a matron 
 true." 
 
 Then Lisa, wrapt in virgin wonderment 
 At her ambitious love's complete content, 
 Which left no further good for her to seek 
 Than love's obedience, said, with accent meek, — 
 " Monsignor, I know well that were it known 
 To all the world how high my love had flown, 
 There would be few who would not deem me 
 
 mad. 
 Or say my mind the falsest image had 
 Of my condition and your loftiness. 
 But Heaven has seen that for no moment's space 
 Have I forgotten you to be the king, 
 Or me myself to be a lowly thing — 
 A little lark, enamoured of the sky, 
 
How Lisa loved the King, 45 
 
 That soared to sing, to break its breast, and 
 
 die. 
 But, as you better know than I, the heart 
 In choosing chooseth not its own desert, 
 But that great merit which attracteth it : 
 'Tis law, I struggled, but I must submit. 
 And having seen a worth all worth above, 
 I loved you, love you, and shall always love. 
 But that doth mean, my will is ever yours. 
 Not only when your will my good insures. 
 But if it wrought me what the world calls 
 
 harm : 
 Fire, wounds, would wear from your dear will a 
 
 charm. 
 That you will be my knight is full content, 
 And for that kiss, — I pray, first, for the queen's 
 
 consent." 
 
^^.6 How Lisa loved the King. 
 
 Her answer, given with such firm gentleness, 
 Pleased the queen well, and made her hold no 
 
 less 
 Of Lisa's merit than the king had held. 
 And so, all cloudy threats of grief dispelled, 
 There was betrothal made that very morn 
 'Twixt Perdicone, youthful, brave, well-born, 
 And Lisa whom he loved ; she loving well 
 The lot that from obedience befell. 
 The queen a rare betrothal ring on each 
 Bestowed, and other gems, with gracious speech. 
 And, that no joy might lack, the king, who knew 
 The youth was poor, gave him rich Ceffalii 
 And Cataletta, — large and fruitful lands, — 
 Adding much promise when he joined their 
 
 hands. 
 At last he said to Lisa, with an air 
 Gallant yet noble, " Now we claim our share 
 
How Lisa loved the King. 47 
 
 From your sweet love, a share which is not 
 
 small ; 
 For in the sacrament one crumb is all." 
 Then, taking her small face his hands between, 
 He kissed her on the brow with kiss serene, — 
 Fit seal to that pure vision her young soul had 
 
 seen. 
 
 And many witnessed that King Pedro kept 
 His royal promise. Perdicone stept 
 To many honors honorably won, 
 Living with Lisa in true union. 
 Throughout his life, the king still took delight 
 To call himself fair Lisa's faithful knight ; 
 And never wore in field or tournament 
 A scarf or emblem, save by Lisa sent. 
 Such deeds made subjects loyal in that land ; 
 They joyed that one so worthy to command, 
 
48 How Lisa loved the King, 
 
 So chivalrous and gentle, had become 
 The king of Sicily, and filled the room 
 Of Frenchmen, who abused the Church's trust. 
 Till, in a righteous vengeance on their lust, 
 Messina rose, with God, and with the dagger's 
 thrust. 
 
 l'envoi. 
 
 Reader J this story pleased me long ago 
 
 hi the bright pages of Boccaccio ; 
 
 And where the attthor of a good we kjtow, 
 
 Let ns not fail to pay the grateful thanks we owe. 
 
I 
 
 M 
 
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