Chapter 2

The king, when he the happy change had seen, Trusted the ear of Constance, his fair queen, With Lisa's innocent secret, and conferred How they should jointly, by their deed and word, Honor this maiden's love, which, like the prayer Of loyal hermits, never thought to share In what it gave. The queen had that chief grace Of womanhood, a heart that can embrace All goodness in another woman's form; And that same day, ere the sun lay too warm On southern terraces, a messenger Informed Bernardo that the royal pair Would straightway visit him, and celebrate Their gladness at his daughter's happier state, Which they were fain to see. Soon came the king On horseback, with his barons, heralding The advent of the queen in courtly state; And all, descending at the garden gate, Streamed with their feathers, velvet, and brocade, Through the pleached alleys, till they, pausing, made A lake of splendor 'mid the aloes gray; When, meekly facing all their proud array, The white-robed Lisa with her parents stood, As some white dove before the gorgeous brood Of dapple-breasted birds born by the Colchian flood. The king and queen, by gracious looks and speech, Encourage her, and thus their courtiers teach How, this fair morning, they may courtliest be, By making Lisa pass it happily. And soon the ladies and the barons all Draw her by turns, as at a festival Made for her sake, to easy, gay discourse, And compliment with looks and smiles enforce; A joyous hum is heard the gardens round; Soon there is Spanish dancing, and the sound Of minstrel's song, and autumn fruits are pluckt; Till mindfully the king and queen conduct Lisa apart to where a trellised shade Made pleasant resting. Then King Pedro said,-- "Excellent maiden, that rich gift of love Your heart hath made us hath a worth above All royal treasures, nor is fitly met Save when the grateful memory of deep debt Lies still behind the outward honors done: And as a sign that no oblivion Shall overflood that faithful memory, We while we live your cavalier will be; Nor will we ever arm ourselves for fight, Whether for struggle dire, or brief delight Of warlike feigning, but we first will take The colors you ordain, and for your sake Charge the more bravely where your emblem is: Nor will we claim from you an added bliss To our sweet thoughts of you save one sole kiss. But there still rests the outward honor meet To mark your worthiness; and we entreat That you will turn your ear to proffered vows Of one who loves you, and would be your spouse We must not wrong yourself and Sicily By letting all your blooming years pass by Unmated: you will give the world its due From beauteous maiden, and become a matron true."

{King and Lisa: p42.jpg}

Then Lisa, wrapt in virgin wonderment At her ambitious love's complete content, Which left no further good for her to seek Than love's obedience, said, with accent meek,-- "Monsignor, I know well that were it known To all the world how high my love had flown, There would be few who would not deem me mad, Or say my mind the falsest image had Of my condition and your loftiness. But Heaven has seen that for no moment's space Have I forgotten you to be the king, Or me myself to be a lowly thing-- A little lark, enamoured of the sky, That soared to sing, to break its breast, and die. But, as you better know than I, the heart In choosing chooseth not its own desert, But that great merit which attracteth it: 'Tis law, I struggled, but I must submit, And having seen a worth all worth above, I loved you, love you, and shall always love. But that doth mean, my will is ever yours, Not only when your will my good insures, But if it wrought me what the world calls harm: Fire, wounds, would wear from your dear will a charm. That you will be my knight is full content, And for that kiss,--I pray, first, for the queen's consent." Her answer, given with such firm gentleness, Pleased the queen well, and made her hold no less Of Lisa's merit than the king had held. And so, all cloudy threats of grief dispelled, There was betrothal made that very morn 'Twixt Perdicone, youthful, brave, well-born, And Lisa whom he loved; she loving well The lot that from obedience befell. The queen a rare betrothal ring on each Bestowed, and other gems, with gracious speech. And, that no joy might lack, the king, who knew The youth was poor, gave him rich Ceffalu And Cataletta,--large and fruitful lands,-- Adding much promise when he joined their hands. At last he said to Lisa, with an air Gallant yet noble, "Now we claim our share From your sweet love, a share which is not small; For in the sacrament one crumb is all." Then, taking her small face his hands between, He kissed her on the brow with kiss serene,-- Fit seal to that pure vision her young soul had seen.

And many witnessed that King Pedro kept His royal promise. Perdicone stept To many honors honorably won, Living with Lisa in true union. Throughout his life, the king still took delight To call himself fair Lisa's faithful knight; And never wore in field or tournament A scarf or emblem, save by Lisa sent. Such deeds made subjects loyal in that land; They joyed that one so worthy to command, So chivalrous and gentle, had become The king of Sicily, and filled the room Of Frenchmen, who abused the Church's trust, Till, in a righteous vengeance on their lust, Messina rose, with God, and with the dagger's thrust.

L'ENVOI.

_Reader_, _this story pleased me long ago_ _In the bright pages of Boccaccio_; _And where the author of a good we know_, _Let us not fail to pay the grateful thanks we owe_.