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Having his other penitents to mind. If then, all outlets thus secured save one, At last she took to the open, stood and stared (1040) With her wan face to see where God might wait And there found Caponsacchi wait as well For the precious something at perditions edge. He only was predestinate to save, And if they recognised in a critical flash From the zenith, each the other, her need of him, His need of say, a woman to perish for, The regular way o the world, yet break no vow, Do no harm save to himself,if this were thus? How do you say? It were improbable; (1050) So is the legend of my patron-saint. Pompilia,like a starving wretch i the street Who stops and rifles the first passenger In the great right of an excessive wrong, Did somehow call this stranger and he came, Or whether the strange sudden interview Blazed as when star and star must needs go close Till each hurts each and there is loss in heaven Whatever way in this strange world it was, (1060) Pompilia and Caponsacchi met, in fine, She at her window, he i the street beneath, And understood each other at first look. And on a certain April evening, late I the month, this girl of sixteen, bride and wife Three years and over,she who hitherto Had never taken twenty steps in Rome Beyond the church, pinned to her mothers gown, Nor, in Arezzo, knew her way through street (1070) Except what led to the Archbishops door, Such an one rose up in the dark, laid hand On what came first, clothes and a trinket or two, Belongings of her own in the old day, Stole from the side o the sleeping spousewho knows? Sleeping perhaps, silent for certain,slid Ghost-like from great dark room to great dark room, In through the tapestries and out again And onward, unembarrassed as a fate, Descended staircase, gained last door of all, (1080) Sent it wide open at first push of palm, And there stood, first time, last and only time, At liberty, alone in the open street, Unquestioned, unmolested found herself At the city gate, by Caponsacchis side, Hope there, joy there, life and all good again, The carriage there, the convoy there, light there Broadening into a full blaze at Rome And breaking small what long miles lay between; Up she sprang, in he followed, they were safe. (1090) All of the story from first word to last: Sees the priests hand throughout upholding hers, Traces his foot to the alcove, that night, Whither and whence blindfold he knew the way, Proficient in all craft and stealthiness; And cites for proof a servant, eye that watched And ear that opened to purse secrets up, A woman-spy,suborned to give and take Letters and tokens, do the work of shame (1100) The more adroitly that herself, who helped Communion thus between a tainted pair, Had long since been a leper thick in spot, A common trull o the town: she witnessed all, Helped many meetings, partings, took her wage And then told Guido the whole matter. Lies! The womans life confutes her word,her word Confutes itself: Thus, thus and thus I lied. And thus, no question, still you lie, we say. Whatever the means, whatever the way, explodes The consummationthe accusers shriek: Here is the wife avowedly found in flight, And the companion of her flight, a priest; She flies her husband, he the church his spouse: What is this? This is the simple thing it claims to be, A course we took for life and honours sake, Very strange, very justifiable. (1120) She says, God put it in my head to fly, As when the martin migrates: autumn claps Her hands, cries Winters coming, will be here, Off with you ere the white teeth overtake! Flee! So I fled: this friend was the warm day, The south wind and whatever favours flight; I took the favour, had the help, how else? And so we did fly rapidly all night, All day, all nighta longer nightagain, And then another day, longest of days, (1130) And all the while, whether we fled or stopped, I scarce know how or why, one thought filled both, Fly and arrive! So long as I found strength I talked with my companion, told him much, Knowing that he knew more, knew me, knew God And Gods disposal of me,but the sense O the blessed flight absorbed me in the main, And speech became mere talking through a sleep, Till at the end of that last longest night In a red daybreak, when we reached an inn (1140) And my companion whispered Next stageRome! Sudden the weak flesh fell like piled-up cards, All the frail fabric at a fingers touch, And prostrate the poor soul too, and I said, But though Count Guido were a furlong off, Just on me, I must stop and rest awhile! Then something like a white wave o the sea Broke oer my brain and buried me in sleep Blessedly, till it ebbed and left me loose, And where |
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