"Under the reign of Nicholas III., Ferrara was polluted with a domestic tragedy. By the testimony of an attendant, and his own observation, the Marquis of Esté discovered the incestuous loves of his at the guilt, before our attention is riveted upon the punishment: we have scarcely had time to condemn, within our own bearts, the sinning, though injured son, when→ • For a departing being's soul The death-hymn peals and the hollow bells knoll : Sad to hear and piteous to see- With the block before and the guards around- wife Parisina, and Hugo his bastard son, a beautful and valiant youth. They were beheaded in the castle by the sentence of a father and husband, who published his shame, and survived their execu complished but too well, since, during the journey, she not only divested herself of all her hatred, but fell into the opposite extreme. After their return, the Marquess had no longer any occasion to renew his former reproofs. It happened one day that a servant of the Marquess, named Zoese, or, as some cal him, Giorgio, passing before the apartments of Parisina, saw going out from them one of her chambermaids, all terrified and in tears. Asking the reason, she told him that her mistress, for some slight offence, had been beating ber; and, giving vent to her rage, she added, that she could easily be revenged, if she chose to make known the criminal familiarity which subsisted between Parisina and ker step-son. The servant took note of the words, and related them to his master. He was astounded thereat, but, scarcely believing his cars, he assured himself of the fact, alas! too clearly, on the 18th of May, by looking through a hole made in the ceiling of his wife's chamber. Instantly be broke into a furious rage, and arrested both of them, together with While the crowd in a speechless circle gather To see the son fall by the doom of the father!' “The fatal guilt of the Princess is in like manner swallowed up in the dreary contemplation of her uncertain fate. We forbear to think of her as an adulteress, after we have heard that 'horrid voice' which is sent up to heaven at the death of her paramour-Aldobrandino Rangoni, of Modena, her gentleman, and also, as • Whatsoe'er its end below, Her life began and closed in woe.' "Not only has Lord Byron avoided all the details of this unhallowed love, he has also contrived to mingle in the very incest which he condemns the idea of retribution; and our horror for the sin of Hugo is diminished by our belief that it was brought about by some strange and superhuman fatalism, to revenge the ruin of Bianca. That gloom of righteous visitation, which invests, in the old Greek tragedies, the fated house of Atreus, seems here to impend with some portion of its ancient horror over the line of Esté. We hear, in the language of Hugo, the voice of the same prophetic solemnity which announced to Agamemnon, in the very moment of his triumph, the approaching and inevitable darkness of his fate: The gather'd guilt of elder times "That awful chorus does not, unless we be greatly mistaken, leave an impression of destiny upon the mind more powerful than that which rushed on the troubled spirit of Azo, when he beard the speech of Hugo in his hall of judgment: Thou gavest, and mayst resume my breath, some say, two of the women of her chamber, as abettors of this sinful act. He ordered them to be brought to a hasty trial, desiring the judges to pronounce sentence, in the accustomed forms, upon the culprits. This sentence was death. Some there were that bestirred themselves in favour of the delinquents, and, amongst others, Ugoccion Contrario, who was all-powerful with Niccolo, and also his aged and much-deserving minister, Alberto dal Sale. Both of these, their tears flowing down their cheeks, and upon their knees, implored him for mercy; adducing whatever reasons they cou'd suggest for sparing the offenders, besides those motives of honour and decency which might persuade him to conceal from the public so scandalous a deed. But his rage made him inflexible, and, on the instant, he commanded that the sentence should be put in execution. "It was, then, in the prisons of the castle, and exactly in those frightful dungeons which are seen at this day beneath the chamber called the Aurora, at the foot of the Lion's tower, at the top of the street Giovecca, that on the night of the 21st of May were beheaded, first Ugo, and afterwards Parisina. Zoese, he that accused her, conducted the latter under his arm to the place of punishment. She, all along, fancied that she was to be thrown into a pit, and asked, at every step, whether she was yet come to the spot? She was told that her punishment was the axe. She inquired what was become of Ugo, and received for answer, that he was already dead; at the which, sighing grievously, she exclaimed, 'Now, then, I wish not myself to live:' and, being come to the block, she stripped herself with her own hands of all her ornaments, and wrapping a cloth round her head, submitted to the fatal stroke, which terminated the cruel scene. The same was done with Rangoni, who, together with the others, according to two calendars in the library of St. Francesco, was buried in the cemetery of that convent. Nothing else is known respecting the women. We shall have occasion to recur to this subject when we reach our author's Manfred. The facts on which the present poem was grounded are thus given in Frizzi's History of Ferrara:"This turned out a calamitous year for the people of Ferrara; for there occurred a very tragical event in the court of their sovereign. Our annals, both printed and in manuscript, with the "The Marquess kept watch the whole of that dreadful night, exception of the unpolished and negligent work of Sardi, and one and as he was walking backwards and forwards, inquired of the other, have given the following relation of it,-from which, how-captain of the castle if Ugo was dead yet? who answered him, ever, are rejected many details, and especially the narrative of Bandelli, who wrote a century afterwards, and who does not accord with the contemporary historians. "By the above-mentioned Stella dell' Assassino, the Marquess, in the year 1408, had a son called Ugo, a beautiful and ingenuous youth. Parisina Malatesta, second wife of Niccolo, like the generality of step-mothers, treated him with little kindness, to the infinite regret of the Marquess, who regarded him with fond partiality. One day she asked leave of her husband to undertake a certain journey, to which he consented, but upon condition that Ugo should bear her company; for he hoped by these means to induce her, in the end, to lay aside the obstinate aversion which she had conceived against him. And indeed his intent was ac Yes. He then gave himself up to the most desperate lamentations, exclaiming, ‘Oh! that I too were dead, since I have been hurried on to resolve thus against my own Ugo! And then, gnawing with his teeth a cane which he had in his hand, he passed the rest of the night in sighs and in tears, calling frequently upon his own dear Ugo. On the following day, calling to mind that it would be necessary to make public his justification, seeing that the transaction could not be kept secret, he ordered the narrative to be drawn out upon paper, and sent it to all the courts of Italy. "On receiving this advice, the Doge of Venice, Francesco Foscari, gave orders, but without publishing his reasons, that stop should be put to the preparations for a tournament, which, under the auspices of the Marquess, and at the expense of the tion. (1) He was unfortunate, if they were guilty: if they were innocent, he was still more unfortunate; nor is there any possible situation in which I can sincerely approve the last act of the justice of a parent."-Gibbon's Miscellaneous Works, vol. iii. p. 470, new edition. PARISINA. 1. IT is the hour when from the boughs Seem sweet in every whisper'd word ; (2) As twilight melts beneath the moon away. (3) II. But it is not to list to the waterfall And it is not to gaze on the heavenly light 'T is not for the sake of its full-blown flower- There glides a step through the foliage thick, And her cheek grows pale—and her heart beats quick ; There whispers a voice through the rustling leaves, III. And what unto them is the world beside, With all its change of time and tide? city of Padua, was about to take place, in the square of St. Mark, in order to celebrate his advancement to the ducal chair. "The Marquess, in addition to what he had already done, from some unaccountable burst of vengeance, commanded that as many of the married women as were well known to him to be faithless, like his Parisina, should, like her, be beheaded. Amongst others, Barberina, or, as some call her, Laodamia Romei, wife of the court judge, underwent this sentence, at the usual place of execution; that is to say, in the quarter of St. Giacomo, opposite the present fortress, beyond St. Paul's. It cannot be told how strange appeared this proceeding in a prince, who, considering his own disposition, should, as it seemed, have been in such cases most indulgent. Some, however, there were who did not fail to commend him." Its living things-its earth and sky- Of aught around, above, beneath; They only for each other breathe. Their very sighs are full of joy So deep, that did it not decay, Or thought how brief such moments last ? We know such vision comes no more. IV. With many a lingering look they leave The frequent sigh-the long embrace- The heaven she fears will not forgive her, With all the deep and shuddering chill V. And Hugo is gone to his lonely bed, A name she dare not breathe by day," The above passage of Frizzi was translated by Lord Byron, and formed a closing note to the original edition of Parisina.—E. (1) Ferrara is much decayed and depopulated; but the castle still exists entire; and I saw the court where Parisina and Ugo were beheaded, according to the annal of Gibbon." B. Letters, 1817. (2) "The opening verses, though soft and voluptuous, are tinged with the same shade of sorrow which gives character and harmony to the whole poem." Jeffrey. (3) The lines contained in this section were printed as set to music some time since, but belonged to the poem where they now appear; the greater part of which was composed prior to Lara, and other compositions since published. And clasps her lord unto the breast Which pants for one away: And he to that embrace awakes, And, happy in the thought, mistakes That dreaming sigh, and warm caress, For such as he was wont to bless; And could in very fondness weep O'er her who loves him even in sleep. VI. He clasp'd her sleeping to his heart, And dashes on the pointed rock He pluck'd his poniard in its sheath, He could not slay a thing so fair— But gazed upon her with a glance And with the morn he sought, and found, (1) A sagacious writer gravely charges Lord Byron with paraphrasing, in this passage, without acknowledgment, Mr. Burke's The long conniving damsels seek To save themselves, and would transfer The guilt-the shame-the doom-to her: Concealment is no more-they speak All circumstance which may compel Full credence to the tale they tell: And Azo's tortured heart and ear Have nothing more to feel or hear. IX. He was not one who brook'd delay: Upon his throne of judgment sate; Both young, and one how passing fair! Yet thus must Hugo meet his sire, The tale of his disgrace! X. And still, and pale, and silently Did Parisina wait her doom; How changed, since last her speaking eye Glanced gladness round the glittering room Where high-born men were proud to waitWhere beauty watch'd to imitate Her gentle voice-her lovely mien- Then, had her eye in sorrow wept, A thousand swords had sheathless shone, (1) And lips that scarce their scorn forbear, well-known description of the unfortunate Marie Antoinette. "Verily," says Mr. Coleridge, "there be amongst us a set o And Azo spake :-"But yesterday Well, let that pass,-there breathes not one Let that too pass ;-the doom's prepared! Hugo, the priest awaits on thee, And then-thy crime's reward! There is no spot where thou and I But thou, frail thing! shalt view his head— And here stern Azo hid his face For on his brow the swelling vein critics, who seem to hold, that every possible thought and image is traditional; who have no notion that there are such things as fountains in the world, small as well as great; and who would therefore charitably derive every rill they behold flowing from a Throbb'd, as if back upon his brain The hot blood ebb'd and flow'd again; And therefore bow'd he for a space, And pass'd his shaking hand along His eye, to veil it from the throng; While Hugo raised his chained hands, And for a brief delay demands His father's ear: the silent sire Forbids not what his words require. "It is not that I dread the death- Thou gavest, and mayst resume my breath, How trusty and how tender were 'T is true that I have done thee wrong But wrong for wrong:-this, deem'd thy bride, Thou know'st for me was destined long. Yet, were a few short summers mine, I had a sword-and have a breast That should have won as haught (1) a crest As ever waved along the line Of all these sovereign sires of thine. I will not plead the cause of crime, perforation made in some other man's tank.”—E. (1) Ilaught-haughty.—“ Away, haught man, thou art inspiting me."-Shakspeare. A few brief hours or days, that must Disdain'd to deck a thing like me- From thee-this tamelessness of heart From thee-nay, wherefore dost thou start ?— But all that made me more thine own. For that, like thine, abhorr'd control: For though thou work'dst my mother's ill, And made thy own my destined bride, I feel thou art my father still; XIV. He ceased-and stood with folded arms, (1) "I sent for Marmion, because it occurred to me, there might be a resemblance between part of Parisina and a similar scene in the second canto of Marmion. I fear there is, though I never thought of it before, and could hardly wish to imitate that which is inimitable. I wish you would ask Mr. Gifford whether I ought to say any thing upon it. I had completed the story on the passage from Gibbon, which indeed leads to a like scene naturally, without a thought of the kind: but it comes upon me not very comfortably."-Lord B. to Mr. M. Feb. 3, 1816.-The scene referred to is the one in which Constance de Beverley appears before the conclave: "Her look composed and steady eye,, When those dull chains in meeting clank'd : Till Parisina's fatal charms (1) Again attracted every eye— Would she thus hear him doom'd to die! So large and slowly gather'd, slid It was a thing to see, not hear! A monument of Azo's wife,— Sent forth her thoughts all wild and wide- And there she stood so calm and pale, (2) "The arraignment and condemnation of the guilty pair, with the bold, high-toned, and yet temperate defence of the son, are managed with considerable talent; and yet are less touching than the mute despair of the fallen beauty, who stands in speechless agony before him." Jeffrey. |