IF thou shouldst ever come to Mod"ena, Stop at a palace near the Reggio Gate, Dwelt in of old by one of the Orsini.
Its noble gardens, terrace above terrace, And numerous fountains, statues, cypresses, Will long detain thee; but before thou go, Enter the house-prythee, forget it not- And look a while upon a picture there.
"Tis of a lady in her earliest youth; - She sits inclining forward as to speak, Her lips half open, and her finger up,As though she said, "Beware!" her vest of gold, Broidered with flowers, and clasped from head to foot- An emerald stone in every golden clasp;And on her brow, fairer than alabaster, A coronet of pearls. But then her face, So lovely, yet so arch, so full of mirth. The overflowings of an innocent heart-It haunts me still, though many a year has fled,Like some wild melody!-Alone it hangs, Over a mouldering heir-loom, its companion, An oaken chest half eaten by the worm.
She was an only child; from infancy, The joy, the pride, of an indulgent sire. Her mother dying of the gift she gave,That precious gift, what else remained to him? The young Gine"vra was his all in life;Still as she grew, for ever in his sight. She was all gentleness, all gaiety,Her pranks the favourite theme of every tongue. But now the day was come, the day, the hour; And in the lustre of her youth, she gaveHer hand, with her heart in it, to Francesco.
Great was the joy; but at the bridal feast,When all sat down, the bride was wanting there- Nor was she to be found! Her father cried.
""Tis but to make a trial of our love!"
And filled his glass to all; but his hand shook, And soon from guest to guest the panic spread. "Twas but that instant she had left Francesco, Laughing and looking back, and flying still,Her ivory tooth imprinted on his finger.
But now, alas! she was not to be found;
Nor from that hour could anything be guessed, But that she was not! Weary of his life, Francesco flew to Venice, and forthwithFlung it away in battle with the Turk.
Orsini lived; and long mightst thou have seen, An old man wandering as in quest of something, Something he could not find-he knew not what. When he was gone, the house remained a while, Silent and tenantless, then went to strangers.
Full fifty years were past, and all forgot, When on an idle day, a day of search, "Mid the old lumber in the gallery,That mouldering chest was noticed; and "twas said, By one as young, as thoughtless, as Ginevra,"Why not remove it from its lurking-place?" "Twas done as soon as said; but on the way It burst-it fell; and lo, a skeleton!
And here and there a pearl, an emerald-stone,A golden clasp, clasping a shred of gold.
All else had perished-save a nuptial ring, And a small seal, her mother"s legacy, Engraven with a name, the name of both-"GINEVRA." There, then, had she found a grave! Within that chest had she concealed herself, Fluttering with joy, the happiest of the happy; When a spring-lock, that lay in ambush there, Fastened her down-for ever!
- ROGERS
NOTES
① Modena, capital of the province of ?milia, in the north of Italy,-the former Duchy of Modena. The ?milian Way (Rimini to Piacenza) passes through it, and forms its principal street; at the northwestern extremity of which is the "Reggio Gate." where the Way passes on to Reggio.
② Orsini, a celebrated Roman family during the Middle Ages. It yielded two popes, and agreat number of cardinals.
QUESTIONS
To what family did Ginevra belong? Why was she very precious to her father? How was her marriage interrupted? What was her fate? When was it discovered? What became of Francesco? What is the starting point of the poem?
