Part 5

XI But when the angry king discovered not What guilty hand this sacrilege had wrought, His ireful courage boiled in vengeance hot Against the Christians, whom he faulters thought; All ruth, compassion, mercy he forgot, A staff to beat that dog he long had sought, “Let them all die,” quoth he, “kill great and small, So shall the offender perish sure withal.

XII “To spill the wine with poison mixed with spares? Slay then the righteous with the faulty one, Destroy this field that yieldeth naught but tares, With thorns this vineyard all is over-gone, Among these wretches is not one, that cares For us, our laws, or our religion; Up, up, dear subjects, fire and weapon take, Burn, murder, kill these traitors for my sake.”

XIII This Herod thus would Bethlem’s infants kill, The Christians soon this direful news receave, The trump of death sounds in their hearing shrill, Their weapon, faith; their fortress, was the grave; They had no courage, time, device, or will, To fight, to fly, excuse, or pardon crave, But stood prepared to die, yet help they find, Whence least they hope, such knots can Heaven unbind.

XIV Among them dwelt, her parents’ joy and pleasure, A maid, whose fruit was ripe, not over-yeared, Her beauty was her not esteemed treasure; The field of love with plough of virtue eared, Her labor goodness; godliness her leisure; Her house the heaven by this full moon aye cleared, For there, from lovers’ eyes withdrawn, alone With virgin beams this spotless Cynthia shone.

XV But what availed her resolution chaste, Whose soberest looks were whetstones to desire? Nor love consents that beauty’s field lie waste, Her visage set Olindo’s heart on fire, O subtle love, a thousand wiles thou hast, By humble suit, by service, or by hire, To win a maiden’s hold, a thing soon done, For nature framed all women to be won.

XVI Sophronia she, Olindo hight the youth, Both or one town, both in one faith were taught, She fair, he full of bashfulness and truth, Loved much, hoped little, and desired nought, He durst not speak by suit to purchase ruth, She saw not, marked not, wist not what he sought, Thus loved, thus served he long, but not regarded, Unseen, unmarked, unpitied, unrewarded.

XVII To her came message of the murderment, Wherein her guiltless friends should hopeless starve, She that was noble, wise, as fair and gent, Cast how she might their harmless lives preserve, Zeal was the spring whence flowed her hardiment, From maiden shame yet was she loth to swerve: Yet had her courage ta’en so sure a hold, That boldness, shamefaced; shame had made her bold.

XVIII And forth she went, a shop for merchandise Full of rich stuff, but none for sale exposed, A veil obscured the sunshine of her eyes, The rose within herself her sweetness closed, Each ornament about her seemly lies, By curious chance, or careless art, composed; For what the most neglects, most curious prove, So Beauty’s helped by Nature, Heaven, and Love.

XIX Admired of all, on went this noble maid, Until the presence of the king she gained, Nor for he swelled with ire was she afraid, But his fierce wrath with fearless grace sustained, “I come,” quoth she, “but be thine anger stayed, And causeless rage ’gainst faultless souls restrained— I come to show thee, and to bring thee both, The wight whose fact hath made thy heart so wroth.”

XX Her molest boldness, and that lightning ray Which her sweet beauty streamed on his face, Had struck the prince with wonder and dismay, Changed his cheer, and cleared his moody grace, That had her eyes disposed their looks to play, The king had snared been in love’s strong lace; But wayward beauty doth not fancy move, A frown forbids, a smile engendereth love.

XXI It was amazement, wonder and delight, Although not love, that moved his cruel sense; “Tell on,” quoth he, “unfold the chance aright, Thy people’s lives I grant for recompense.” Then she, “Behold the faulter here in sight, This hand committed that supposed offence, I took the image, mine that fault, that fact, Mine be the glory of that virtuous act.”

XXII This spotless lamb thus offered up her blood, To save the rest of Christ’s selected fold, O noble lie! was ever truth so good? Blest be the lips that such a leasing told: Thoughtful awhile remained the tyrant wood, His native wrath he gan a space withhold, And said, “That thou discover soon I will, What aid? what counsel had’st thou in that ill?”

XXIII “My lofty thoughts,” she answered him, “envied Another’s hand should work my high desire, The thirst of glory can no partner bide, With mine own self I did alone conspire.” “On thee alone,” the tyrant then replied, “Shall fall the vengeance of my wrath and ire.” “’Tis just and right,” quoth she, “I yield consent, Mine be the honor, mine the punishment.”

XXIV The wretch of new enraged at the same, Asked where she hid the image so conveyed: “Not hid,” quoth she, “but quite consumed with flame, The idol is of that eternal maid, For so at least I have preserved the same, With hands profane from being eft betrayed. My Lord, the thing thus stolen demand no more, Here see the thief that scorneth death therefor.

XXV “And yet no theft was this, yours was the sin, I brought again what you unjustly took.” This heard, the tyrant did for rage begin To whet his teeth, and bend his frowning look, No pity, youth; fairness, no grace could win; Joy, comfort, hope, the virgin all forsook; Wrath killed remorse, vengeance stopped mercy’s breath Love’s thrall to hate, and beauty’s slave to death.

XXVI Ta’en was the damsel, and without remorse, The king condemned her guiltless to the fire, Her veil and mantle plucked they off by force, And bound her tender arms in twisted wire: Dumb was the silver dove, while from her corse These hungry kites plucked off her rich attire, And for some deal perplexed was her sprite, Her damask late, now changed to purest white.

XXVII The news of this mishap spread far and near, The people ran, both young and old, to gaze; Olindo also ran, and gan to fear His lady was some partner in this case; But when he found her bound, stript from her gear, And vile tormentors ready saw in place, He broke the throng, and into presence brast; And thus bespake the king in rage and haste:

XXXVIII “Not so, not so this grief shall bear away From me the honor of so noble feat, She durst not, did not, could not so convey The massy substance of that idol great, What sleight had she the wardens to betray? What strength to heave the goddess from her seat? No, no, my Lord, she sails but with my wind.” Ah, thus he loved, yet was his love unkind!

XXIX He added further: “Where the shining glass, Lets in the light amid your temple’s side, By broken by-ways did I inward pass, And in that window made a postern wide, Nor shall therefore this ill-advised lass Usurp the glory should this fact betide, Mine be these bonds, mine be these flames so pure, O glorious death, more glorious sepulture!”

XXX Sophronia raised her modest looks from ground, And on her lover bent her eyesight mild, “Tell me, what fury? what conceit unsound Presenteth here to death so sweet a child? Is not in me sufficient courage found, To bear the anger of this tyrant wild? Or hath fond love thy heart so over-gone? Wouldst thou not live, nor let me die alone?”

XXXI Thus spake the nymph, yet spake but to the wind, She could not alter his well-settled thought; O miracle! O strife of wondrous kind! Where love and virtue such contention wrought, Where death the victor had for meed assigned; Their own neglect, each other’s safety sought; But thus the king was more provoked to ire, Their strife for bellows served to anger’s fire.

XXXII He thinks, such thoughts self-guiltiness finds out, They scorned his power, and therefore scorned the pain, “Nay, nay,” quoth he, “let be your strife and doubt, You both shall win, and fit reward obtain.” With that the sergeants hent the young man stout, And bound him likewise in a worthless chain; Then back to back fast to a stake both ties, Two harmless turtles dight for sacrifice.

XXXIII About the pile of fagots, sticks and hay, The bellows raised the newly-kindled flame, When thus Olindo, in a doleful lay, Begun too late his bootless plaints to frame: “Be these the bonds? Is this the hoped-for day, Should join me to this long-desired dame? Is this the fire alike should burn our hearts? Ah, hard reward for lovers’ kind desarts!

XXXIV “Far other flames and bonds kind lovers prove, But thus our fortune casts the hapless die, Death hath exchanged again his shafts with love, And Cupid thus lets borrowed arrows fly. O Hymen, say, what fury doth thee move To lend thy lamps to light a tragedy? Yet this contents me that I die for thee, Thy flames, not mine, my death and torment be.

XXXV “Yet happy were my death, mine ending blest, My torments easy, full of sweet delight, It this I could obtain, that breast to breast Thy bosom might receive my yielded sprite; And thine with it in heaven’s pure clothing drest, Through clearest skies might take united flight.” Thus he complained, whom gently she reproved, And sweetly spake him thus, that so her loved:

XXXVI “Far other plaints, dear friend, tears and laments The time, the place, and our estates require; Think on thy sins, which man’s old foe presents Before that judge that quits each soul his hire, For his name suffer, for no pain torments Him whose just prayers to his throne aspire: Behold the heavens, thither thine eyesight bend, Thy looks, sighs, tears, for intercessors send.”

XXXVII The Pagans loud cried out to God and man, The Christians mourned in silent lamentation, The tyrant’s self, a thing unused, began To feel his heart relent, with mere compassion, But not disposed to ruth or mercy than He sped him thence home to his habitation: Sophronia stood not grieved nor discontented, By all that saw her, but herself, lamented.

XXXVIII The lovers standing in this doleful wise, A warrior bold unwares approached near, In uncouth arms yclad and strange disguise, From countries far, but new arrived there, A savage tigress on her helmet lies, The famous badge Clorinda used to bear; That wonts in every warlike stowre to win, By which bright sign well known was that fair inn.