When what might turn to transient shade, who knows?
Solidifies into a blot which breaks
Hell’s black off in pale flakes for fear of mine,—
Then, when I claim and take revenge—“So rash?”
They cry—“so little reverence for the law?”
At first, I called in law to act and help:
Seeing I do so, “Why, ’tis clear,” they cry,
“You shrank from gallant readiness and risk, (1090)
“Were coward: the thing’s inexplicable else.”
Sweet my lords, let the thing be! I fall flat,
Play the reed, not the oak, to breath of man.
Only, inform my ignorance! Say I stand
Convicted of the having been afraid,
Proved a poltroon, no lion but a lamb,—
Does that deprive me of my right of lamb
And give my fleece and flesh to the first wolf?
Are eunuchs, women, children, shieldless quite
Against attack their own timidity tempts? (1100)
Cowardice were misfortune and no crime!
—Take it that way, since I am fallen so low
I scarce dare brush the fly that blows my face,
And thank the man who simply spits not there,—
Unless the Court be generous, comprehend
How one brought up at the very feet of law
As I, awaits the grave Gamaliel’s nod
Ere he clench fist at outrage,—much less, stab!
—How, ready enough to rise at the right time,
I still could recognise no time mature (1110)
Unsanctioned by a move o’ the judgment-seat,
So, mute in misery, eyed my masters here
Motionless till the authoritative word
Pronounced amercement. There’s the riddle solved:
This is just why I slew nor her nor him,
But called in law, law’s delegate in the place,
And bade arrest the guilty couple, Sirs!
We had some trouble to do so—you have heard
They braved me,—he with arrogance and scorn,
She, with a volubility of curse, (1120)
A conversancy in the skill of tooth
And claw to make suspicion seem absurd,
Nay, an alacrity to put to proof
At my own throat my own sword, teach me so
To try conclusions better the next time,—
Which did the proper service with the mob.
They never tried to put on mask at all:
Two avowed lovers forcibly torn apart,
Upbraid the tyrant as in a playhouse scene,
Ay, and with proper clapping and applause (1130)
From the audience that enjoys the bold and free.
I kept still, said to myself, “There’s law!” Anon
We searched the chamber where they passed the night,
Found what confirmed the worst was feared before,
However needless confirmation now—
The witches’ circle intact, charms undisturbed
That raised the spirit and succubus,—letters, to- wit,
Love-laden, each the bag o’ the bee that bore
Honey from lily and rose to Cupid’s hive,—
Now, poetry in some rank blossom-burst, (1140)
Now, prose,—“Come here, go there, wait such a while,
“He’s at the villa, now he’s back again:
“We are saved, we are lost, we are lovers all the same!”
All in order, all complete,—even to a clue
To the drowsiness that happed so opportune—
No mystery, when I read “Of all things, find
“What wine Sir Jealousy decides to drink—
“Red wine? Because a sleeping-potion, dust
“Dropped into white, discolours wine and shows.”
“Somebody forged the letters in our name!—”
Both in a breath protested presently.
Aha, Sacchetti again!—“Dame,” quoth the Duke,
“What meaneth this epistle, counsel me,
“I pick from out thy placket and peruse,
“Wherein my page averreth thou art white
“And warm and wonderful ’twixt pap and pap?”
“Sir,” laughed the Lady “’tis a counterfeit!
“Thy page did never stroke but Dian’s breast,
“The pretty hound I nurture for thy sake: (1160)
“To lie were losel,—by my fay, no more!”
And no more say I too, and spare the Court.
Such the case, so complete in fact and proof
I laid at the feet of law,—there sat my lords,
Here sit they now, so may they ever sit
In easier attitude than suits my haunch!
In this same chamber did I bare my sores
O’ the soul and not the body,—shun no shame,
Shrink from no probing of the ulcerous part, (1170)
Since confident in Nature,—which is God,—
That she who, for wise ends, concocts a plague,
Curbs, at the right time, the plague’s virulence too:
Law renovates even Lazarus,—cures me!
Cæsar thou seekest? To Cæsar thou shalt go!
Cæsar’s at Rome; to Rome accordingly!
I’ the balance, vibrate, neither kicks the beam,
Here away, there away, this now and now that.
To every one o’ my grievances law gave (1180)
Redress, could purblind eye but see the point,
The wife stood a convicted runagate
From house and husband,—driven to such a course
By what she somehow took for cruelty,
Oppression and imperilment of life—
Not that such things were, but that so they seemed:
Therefore, the end conceded lawful (since
To save life there’s no risk should stay our leap)
It follows that all means to the lawful end
Are lawful likewise,—poison, theft, and flight, (1190)
As for the priest’s part, did he meddle or make,
Enough that he too thought life jeopardised;
Concede him then the colour charity
Casts on a doubtful course,—if blackish white
Or whitish black, will charity
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