With a gilt glove on his hand, and his foot In a silken shoe for a leather boot, Petticoated like a herald, In a chamber next to an ante-room, Where he breathed the breath of page and groom, To flap each broad wing like a banner, And turn in the wind, and dance like flame!) Cotnar, for instance, green as May sorrel, IV. So, at home, the sick tall yellow duchess And back came the duke and his mother again. V. And he came back the pertest little ape Since the mid-age was the heroic time, Could you taste of it yet as in its prime, So, all that the old dukes had been, without knowing it, This duke would fain know he was, without being it ; 'Twas not for the joy's self, but the joy of his showing it, Nor for the pride's self, but the pride of our seeing it, He revived all usages thoroughly worn out, The souls of them fumed-forth, the hearts of them torn-out. And chief in the chase his neck he perilled, On a lathy horse, all legs and length, VI. Well, such as he was, he must marry, we heard Came the lady, in time of spring. -Oh, old thoughts they cling, they cling! In winter-time when you need to muffle. But the duke had a mind we should cut a figure, My friend, I have seen a white crane bigger! Made, in a piece of Nature's madness, Too small, almost, for the life and gladness That over-filled her, as some hive Out of the bears' reach on the high trees Is crowded with its safe merry bees. In truth, she was not hard to please! Up she looked, down she looked, round at the mead, Straight at the castle, that's best indeed To look at from outside the walls : As for us, styled the "serfs and thralls," She as much thanked me as if she had said it, (With her eyes, do you understand?) Because I patted her horse while I led it ; And Max, who rode on her other hand, Said, no bird flew past but she inquired What its true name was, nor ever seemed tired If that was an eagle she saw hover, If the green and gray bird on the field was the plover. When suddenly appeared the duke: And as down she sprung, the small foot pointed On to my hand—as with a rebuke, And as if his back-bone were not jointed, The duke stepped rather aside than forward, And welcomed her with his grandest smile; Chilled in the rear, As if her first hair had grown grey- VII. In a day or two she was well again; And glad in His sight; therefore, glad I will be ! " VIII. She was active, stirring, all fire Could not rest, could not tire To a stone she might have given life! (I myself loved once, in my day) -For a shepherd's, miner's, huntsman's wife, (I had a wife, I know what I say) Never in all the world such an one! And here was plenty to be done, And she that could do it, great or small, She was to do nothing at all. There was already this man in his post, This in his station, and that in his office, Now outside the hall, now in it, To sit thus, stand thus, see and be seen, And it was amusing enough, each infraction And, being a fool, instruct the wise, And, child-like, parcel out praise or blame. As tho' an artificer, after contriving A wheel-work image as if it were living, Should find with delight it could motion to strike him! So found the duke, and his mother like him : The lady hardly got a rebuff— That had not been contemptuous enough, IX. So, the little lady grew silent and thin, As the way is with a hid chagrin ; And the duke perceived that she was ailing, And said in his heart, ""Tis done to spite me, But I shall find in my power to right me!" Don't swear, friend-the old one, many a year, Is in hell, and the duke's self... you shall hear. |