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LX
"Her face speaks peace; while vengeance inwardly
Her heart demands, and but to this attends:
She many things revolves, accepts, puts by;
Or, as of doubtful issue, some suspends.
Deeming she can, if she resolves to die,
Compass her scheme, with this resolve she ends;
And better how can she expend her breath
Than in avenging dear Olindro's death?

LXI
"She showed herself all joyful, on her part,
And feigned that she desired those nuptials sore;
Nor only showed an unreluctant heart;
But all delay and hindrance overbore.
Painted and tired above the rest with art,
'Twould seem, she of her husband thinks no more:
But 'tis her will, that in her country's wise
Tanacro shall their wedding solemnize.

LXII
"The custom howsoever was not true,
Which as her country's use she certified;
But, because never thought within her grew
Which she could spend on any thing beside,
A falsehood she devised, whence hope she drew
Of killing him by whom her husband died;
And told Tanacro -- and the manner said --
How in her country's fashion she would wed.

LXIII
" `The widow that a husband's bed ascends,
Ere she approach the bridegroom (said that fair)
The spirit of the dead, whom she offends,
Must soothe with solemn office, mass and prayer;
In the holy temple making her amends,
Where her first husband's bones entombed are.
-- That sacrifice performed -- to bind their vows
The nuptial ring the bridegroom gives the spouse.

LXIV
" `But the holy priest, while this shall be about,
Upon wine, thither for that purpose sped,
His orisons, appropriate and devout,
Blessing withal the liquor, shall have said;
Then from the flask into a cup pour out,
And give the blessed wine to them that wed.
But 'tis the spouse's part to take the cup;
And first that vessel's cordial beverage sup. '

LXV
"The unsuspecting youth, who takes no heed
What nuptials, ordered in her wise, import,
At her own pleasure bids the dame proceed,
So that she cut his terms of waiting short;
Nor does the miserable stripling read
She would avenge Olindro in that sort;
And on one object is so sore intent,
He sees but that, on that alone is bent.

LXVI
"An ancient woman, seized with her whilere,
And left, withal, obeyed Drusilla, who
That beldam called and whispered in her ear,
So as that none beside could hear the two --
A poison of quick power for me prepare,
Such as, I know, thou knowest how to brew;
And bottle it; for I have found a way
The traitorous son of Marganor to slay;

LXVII
" `And me and thee no less can save,' (she said,)
`And this at better leisure will explain. '
The woman went her ways, the potion made,
And to the palace bent her steps again:
A flask of Candian sweet wine she purveyed,
Wherewith Drusilla sheathed that deadly bane;
And kept the beverage for the nuptial day;
For now had ceased all hindrance and delay.

LXVIII
"On the fixt day she seeks the temple, dight
With precious jewels and with goodly gear;
Where her lord's tomb, befitting such a knight,
Built by her order, two fair pillars rear.
The holy office there, with solemn rite,
Is sung, which men and women troop to hear;
And -- gay, beyond his usage -- with his heir,
Begirt by friends, Sir Marganor is there.

LXIX
"When the holy obsequies at last were o'er,
And by the priest was blest the poisoned draught,
He into a fair golden cup did pour
The wine, as by Drusilla had been taught,
She drank what sorted with her sex; nor more
Than would effect the purpose which she sought:
Then to the bridegroom, with a jocund eye,
Handed the draught, who drained the goblet dry.
LXX
"The cup returned -- Tanacro, blithe and gay,
Opened his arms Drusilla to embrace.
Then altered was her sweet and winning way,
And to a tempest that long calm gave place.
She thrust him back, she motioned him away;
She seemed to kindle in her eyes and face;
And to the youth, with broken voice and dread,
-- `Traitor, stand off,' -- the furious lady said; --

LXXI
" `Shalt thou then joy and solace have from me,
I tears from thee, and punishment and woe?
Now these mine hands shall make an end of thee.
This, if thou know'st it not, for poison know.
Much grieve I that thou should'st too honoured be
By the executioner who deals the blow;
Should'st die a death too easy: since I wot,
For thee too shameful hand or pain is not.

LXXII
" `In seeing this thy death, it gives me pain,
My sacrifice should be completed ill;
For could I do by thee as I were fain,
Nothing should lack that purpose to fulfill.
May my sweet consort not the work disdain,
And for the imperfect deed accept the will!
That, without power to compass what I would,
I have been fain to slay thee as I could!

LXXIII
" `And that deserved punishment, which I
Cannot, as I desire, on thee bestow,
I hope thy soul shall have; hope to be nigh,
To see thee suffer, in the realms of woe. '
Her turbid eyes then raising to the sky,
With joyous face all over in a glow,
(She cried) `Olindro, take this victim's life,
With the good will of thine avenging wife;

LXXIV
" `And of our lord for me the grace obtain,
To be this day in paradise with thee,
If he reply, none cometh to your reign,
Without desert; say such I bring with me,
Who this fell impious monster, in his fane,
Offer, as my first-fruits; and what can be
A greater merit than to have supprest
Such loathsome and abominable pest? '

LXXV
"Her life, together with her speech, was spent;
And, even dead, her face appeared to glow
With joy, at having dealt such punishment
To him, that laid her cherished husband low.
If fierce Tanacro's spirit did prevent,
Of follow hers, I wiss not; but, I trow,
Prevented, for on him that venom rank
Yet faster wrought, because he deeper drank.

LXXVI
"Marganor, who beheld his only son
Fall and expire, his outstretched arms between,
Well nigh had with Tanacro died, o'erthrown
By that so sudden grief and unforeseen.
Two sons he had, and now was left alone;
Brought to that pass he by two wives had been;
This was the cause one spent his vital breath
With her own hand, that dealt the other death.

LXXVII
"Love, pity, sorrow, anger, and desire
Of death and vengeance, all together rend
And rack the childless and unhappy sire,
Who groans like sea, when wind and waves contend:
Towards the dame, with vengeful thoughts afire,
He goes, but sees that life is at an end;
And, goaded by his rage and hatred hot,
Seeks to offend her corse that feels it not.