“Give me the man,” I say with him of Gath,
“That we may fight together” None, I think:
The priest is granted me.
One juvenile and potent: else, mayhap,
That dragon, our Saint George would slay, slays him.(600)
And should fair face accompany strong hand,
The more complete equipment: nothing mars
Work, else praiseworthy, like a bodily flaw
I’ the worker: as ’tis said Saint Paul himself
Deplored the check o’ the puny presence, still
Cheating his fulmination of its flash,
Albeit the bolt therein went true to oak.
Therefore the agent, as prescribed, she takes,—
A priest, juvenile, potent, handsome too,—
In all obedience: “good,” you grant again. (610)
Do you? I would ye were the husband, lords!
How prompt and facile might departure be!
How boldly would Pompilia and the priest
March out of door, spread flag at beat of drum,
But that inapprehensive Guido grants
Neither premiss nor yet conclusion here,
And, purblind, dreads a bear in every bush!
For his own quietude and comfort, then,
Means must be found for flight in masquerade
At hour when all things sleep.—“Save jealousy!” (620)
Right, judges! Therefore shall the lady’s wit
Supply the boon thwart nature baulks him of,
And do him service with the potent drug
(Helen’s nepenthe, as my lords opine)
Shall respite blessedly each frittered nerve
O’ the much-enduring man: accordingly,
There lies he, duly dosed and sound asleep,
Relieved of woes, or real or raved about.
While soft she leaves his side, he shall not wake;
Nor stop who steals away to join her friend, (630)
Nor do him mischief should he catch that friend
Intent on more than friendly office,—nay,
Nor get himself raw head and bones laid bare
In payment of his apparition!
Would I defend the step,—were the thing true
Which is a fable,—see my former speech,—
That Guido slept (who never slept a wink)
Through treachery, an opiate from his wife,
Who not so much as knew what opiates mean.(640)
A journey is an enterprise which costs!
As in campaigns, we fight and others pay,
Suis expensis, nemo militat.
’Tis Guido’s self we guard from accident,
Ensuring safety to Pompilia, versed
Nowise in misadventures by the way,
Hard riding and rough quarters, the rude fare,
The unready host. What magic mitigates
Each plague of travel to the unpractised wife? (650)
Money, sweet Sirs! And were the fiction fact,
She helped herself thereto with liberal hand
From out the husband’s store,—what fitter use
Was ever husband’s money destined to?
With bag and baggage thus did Dido once
Decamp,—for more authority, a queen!
Prepared for either fortune: nay and if
The priest, now all a-glow with enterprise,
Cool somewhat presently when fades the flush (660)
O’ the first adventure, clouded o’er belike
By doubts, misgivings how the day may die,
Though born with such auroral brilliance,—if
The brow seem over-pensive and the lip
’Gin lag and lose the prattle lightsome late,—
Vanquished by tedium of a prolonged jaunt
In a close carriage o’er a jolting road,
With only one young female substitute
For seventeen other Canons of ripe age
Were wont to keep him company in church,— (670)
Shall not Pompilia haste to dissipate
The silent cloud that, gathering, bodes her bale?—
Prop the irresoluteness may portend
Suspension of the project, check the flight,
Bring ruin on them both?—use every means,
Since means to the end are lawful? What i’ the way
Of wile should have allowance like a kiss
Sagely and sisterly administered,
Sororia saltem oscula? We find
Such was the remedy her wit applied (680)
To each incipient scruple of the priest,
If we believe,—as, while my wit is mine
I cannot,—what the driver testifies,
Borsi, called Venerino, the mere tool
Of Guido and his friend the Governor,—
The avowal I proved wrung from out the wretch,
After long rotting in imprisonment,
As price of liberty and favour: long
They tempted, he at last succumbed, and lo
Counted them out full tale each kiss required,— (690)
“The journey was one long embrace,” quoth he.
Still, though we should believe the driver’s lie,
Nor even admit as probable excuse,
Right reading of the riddle,—as I urged
In my first argument, with fruit perhaps—
That what the owl-like eyes (at back of head!)
O’ the driver, drowsed by driving night and day,
Supposed a vulgar interchange of love,
This was but innocent jog of head ’gainst head,
Cheek meeting jowl as apple may touch pear (700)
From branch and branch contiguous in the wind,
When Autumn blusters and the orchard rocks.
The rapid run and the rough road were cause
O’ the casual ambiguity, no harm
I’ the world to eyes awake and penetrative.
Yet,—not to grasp a truth I can forego
And safely fight without and conquer still,—
Say, she kissed him, and he kissed her again!
Such osculation was a potent means,
A very efficacious help, no doubt: (710)
This with a third part
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