"The listless working of decay,

"That weighed them downward evermore,—

"Until revenge seemed scarcely sweet "To me: and but that it is meet

"That right should hold a changeless course, "Even I, perchance, had known remorse. "But theirs hath been a rightful doom, "To lose their youth in bonds and gloom; "And now their locks are turned to gray; "At times they feebly groan and pray,— "With a dim sense of darkling dread, "As theirs who in mid-cavern tread "When every guiding light is fled."

He ceased, and there was silence deep.
That wretched sire had bowed his head
Upon his breast full low; to weep
Was not for him; and down he gazes,
Nor from his brow his hand he raises,

As if he read with speechless awe,

Traced on the ground, some damning word;

But then his fixed eyes nothing saw,—

He only heard.

His lips were mute as death; no sigh

Bespoke the hid convulsion; grief

Witheld from him a groan's relief:

Nay, even the nearest gazer's eye

Could scarce discern, with steadfast look,
How then at times he slightly shook.

Sighs, groans, or tears, methinks were weak

Of that which wrought within to speak,
The sickness of the bitter cup!

What hears he now? A smothered wail

Of mingling voices. He looks up;
Before him are two beings pale,

Whose souls seem feeble as their clay.
Poor haggard wretches, what are they?

"Ye hosts of Heaven, whom do I see!

"Yon grisly shadows-can it be

"That those were two proud sons of mine?

"Ha! did the sunlight ever shine

"Where ye were given the curse of birth,

"Speak, withered ones, oh speak to me!"

He strove to rise; it could not be ;

Strong anguish held him down.

His quivering hands he wildly stretches,
Beseechingly, to those wan wretches--

That could not heed. With dazzled frown,

They stood amid the crowd alone,

And had forgot that voice's tone.

Of those who sate around that hall,

In chill amaze,

there was another

Who felt the keenest grief of all :

He was Alviano's son,-the brother Of yonder weak and long-lost creatures. He wears the very form and features,The high and daring mien he wears Which in the dawn of youth was theirs. His eyes stare wild and steadfastly

Upon the yellow bloodless faces,

In whose shrunk lineaments he traces

All but his living brothers nigh.

Living! their days are all gone by,

And the loathsome cloud of sunless day
Enwraps them, ne'er to pass away.
There stood they, on each side upborne

By those who led them from their den ;
For their own limbs were powerless then,
Benumbed in dungeon-damps, and worn
With iron which had girt them fast,
Till every hope had flitted past,

And they had pined, of all forlorn,

F

Till memory was a sickly blot,

And they became they knew not what.
So long unwont to view the light,

It seemed to scorch their shrinking sight.
With heads drooped lowly, did they pore
In search of shadows on the floor,

To shun the glare of festal sheen.
Before a father and a brother

Unwittingly they stood;

Nay, scantly did they know each other,
Save that each felt how both had been
Wrecked in oblivion's icy flood,—

Swept from a clime of joyance bright,
And flung upon the bourne of night,
Long long unseeing and unseen.

Thus fate had dealt with them: but who
Hath lifted the curtain of sable hue?
The pictured forms are given to view;

And many there, with ruthful gaze,

Looked on them, and on those who stood

So changed-with such long durance bowed,

Aliens from life's most living days.

And oh! how ghost-like seemed to all

The portraitures upon that wall,

How fearful in their beauty then!
Yon fell Revenger speaks again :

"Ye haughty lords, ye knights renowned,
"Behold what justice here hath wrought,
"Though her strong arm could never wound
"With half the ills it ought.

"Know ye these creatures? They have been "Of manlier port and lordlier mien "Than any whom I now behold:

"These in the brunt of strife I've seen "Beat down the firiest of the bold;

66

They were your fellows, too, of old, "Your joy-mates in this mansion here : "But look upon them now, and fear. "This was Ferrante; it was he

"Who tore that loveliest one from me :

"Yes, 'twas that sinewless arm ye see

"That felled me, when I madly strove "To save my wondrous wealth of love. "Yon Ulderico, too, was one

"Who aided in that blacker deed

"Than ever was by murderer done;

66

"And never henceforth shall he lead

Despair into the haunts of Love,