at an end;
And, goaded by his rage and hatred hot,
Seeks to offend her corse that feels it not.

“As serpent, by the pointed spear pinned down,
Fixes his teeth in it, with fruitless spire;
Or as the mastiff runs towards a stone,
Which has been flung by some wayfaring wight,
And gnaws it in his rage, nor will be gone
Until he venge himself; ’tis so the knight,
Than any mastiff, any serpent, worse
Offends Drusilla’s cold and lifeless corse.

“And, for he venteth not, nor slakes his mood,
By foul abuse upon the carcase done,
Among the women, a large multitude,
He springs, and there shows mercy unto none.
Mown are we with his impious sword, as strewed
Is grass with scythe, when dried by summer sun.
There is no ’scape; for straightways of our train
Are full a hundred maimed, and thirty slain.

“He of his vassals is so held in dread,
There is no man who dares to lift his eyes:
The women with the meaner sort are fled,
And whosoever can, the temple flies.
His friends against the furious fit make head,
At last, with kind constraint and suppliant cries;
And, leaving every thing in tears below,
Him in his castle on the rock bestow.

“His wrath enduring still, to send away
The wretch determines all the female band:
In that, his will us utterly to slay
His people and his friends, with prayer, withstand;
And he bids punish, on that very day,
An order for us all to leave his land;
Placed such his pleasures on these confines: woe
To them that nearer to his castle go!

“Thus husbands from their wives divided are,
Mothers from sons: if hither to resort,
Despite that order, any one should dare,
Let none know this, who might the deed report!
For sorely mulcted for the transgression were
Many, and many slain in cruel sort.
A statute for his town next made the peer:
Of fouler law we neither read nor hear.

“It wills, all women found within the vale,
(For thither even yet will some descend,)
His men with rods shall on the shoulders whale,
And into exile from those countries send;
But first their gowns shall clip, and parts unveil
That decency and natural shame offend;
And if with escort of an armed knight
Any wend thither, they are slain outright.

“Those that an armed warrior’s escort have,
By this ill man, to piety a foe,
Are dragged as victims to his children’s grave,
Where his own hand inflicts the murderous blow.
Stript ignominiously of armour, glaive,
And steed, their champions to his prisons go;
And this can he compel; for, night and day,
A thousand men the tyrant’s hest obey;

“And I will add, moreover, ’tis his will,
Does he free any one, he first shall swear
Upon the holy wafer, that he still
To woman, while he lives, will hatred bear.
If then these ladies and yourself to spill
Seem good to you, to yonder walls repair;
And put to proof withal, if prowess more
Or cruelty prevails in Marganor.”

So saying, in those maids of martial might
First she such pity moved and then disdain,
That they (had it been day instead of night)
Would then have gone against that castellain.
There rest the troop; and when Aurora’s light
Serves as a signal to the starry train,
That they should all before the sun recede,
They don the cuirass and remount the steed:

And now, in act to go, that company
Behind them hear the stony road resound
With a long trample, when those warlike three
Look down the vale and roll their eyes around;
And they from thence, a stone’s-throw distant, see
A troop, which through a narrow pathway wound:
A score they are perhaps in number, who
On horseback, or on foot, their way pursue.

They with them on a horse a woman haul,
(Whom stricken sore in years her visage shows,)
In guise wherein some doleful criminal
Condemned to gallows, fire, or prison goes;
Who, notwithstanding that wide interval,
Is by her features known, as well as clothes:
They of the village, mid the cavalcade,
Know her for fair Drusilla’s chamber maid.

The chamber wench, made prisoner with his prize,
By the rapacious stripling, as I shewed,
Who being trusted with that ill emprize,
The poisoned draught of foul effect had brewed.
From the others she and those solemnites
Had kept away, suspecting what ensued:
Yea, this while, from that lordship had she fled,
Where she in safety hoped to hide her head.

News being after to her foeman brought,
That she retired in Ostericche lay,
He, with intent to burn the woman, sought
To have her in his power by every way;
And finally unhappy Avarice, bought
By costly presents, and by proffered pay,
Wrought on a lord, assured upon whose lands
The beldam lived, to put her in his hands.

He on a sumpter horse the prisoner sent
To Constance-town, like merchandise addrest;
Fastened and bound in manner to prevent
The use of speech, and prisoned in a chest.
From whence that rabble, his ill instrument,
Who has all pity banished from his breast,
Had hither brought her, that his impious rage
That cruel man might on the hag assuage.

As the flood, swoln with Vesulo’s thick snows,
The farther that it foams upon its way,
And, with Ticino and Lambra, seaward goes,
Ada, and other streams that tribute pay,
So much more haughty and impetuous flows;
Rogero so, the more he hears display
Marganor’s guilt, and so that gentle pair
Of damsels filled with fiercer choler are.

Them with such hatred, them with such disdain
Against the wretch so many crimes incense,
That they will punish him, despite the train
Or armed men arrayed in his defence:
But speedy death appears too kind a pain,
And insufficient for such foul offence.
Better they deem, mid pangs prolonged and slow,
He all the bitterness of death should know.

But first ’tis right that woman to unchain,
She whom the hangman-crew to death escort;
And

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