was an humble maiden
Beloved of a great lord's son,
That for her sake and his troth's sake
Was banished and undone.

"And forth of his father's city
He went at break of day,
And the maiden softly followed
Behind him on the way

"In the figure of a minstrel,
And prayed him of his love,
'Let me go with thee and serve thee
Wherever thou may'st rove.

"'For if thou goest in exile
I rest banished at home,
And where thou wanderest with thee
My fears in anguish roam,

"'Besetting thy path with perils,
Making thee hungry and cold,
Filling thy heart with trouble
And heaviness untold.

"'But let me go beside thee,
And banishment shall be
Honor, and riches, and country,
And home to thee and me!'"

Down falls the minstrel-maiden
Before the Marquis' son,
And the six true-hearted comrades
Bow round them every one.

Federigo, the son of the Marquis,
From its scabbard draws his sword:
"Now swear by the honor and fealty
Ye bear your friend and lord,

"That whenever, and wherever,
As long as ye have life,
Ye will honor and serve this lady
As ye would your prince's wife!"

IV.

Over the broad expanses
Of garlanded Lombardy,
Where the gentle vines are swinging
In the orchards from tree to tree;

Through Padua from Verona,
From the sculptured gothic town,
Carved from ruin upon ruin,
And ancienter than renown;

Through Padua from Verona
To fair Venice, where she stands
With her feet on subject waters,
Lady of many lands;

From Venice by sea to Ancona;
From Ancona to the west;
Climbing many a gardened hillside
And many a castled crest;

Through valleys dim with the twilight
Of their gray olive trees;
Over plains that swim with harvests
Like golden noonday seas;

Whence the lofty campanili
Like the masts of ships arise,
And like a fleet at anchor
Under them, the village lies;

To Florence beside her Arno,
In her many-marbled pride,
Crowned with infamy and glory
By the sons she has denied;

To pitiless Pisa, where never
Since the anguish of Ugolin
The moon in the Tower of Famine[3]
Fate so dread as his hath seen;

Out through the gates of Pisa
To Livorno on her bay,
To Genoa and to Naples
The comrades hold their way,

Past the Guelph in his town beleaguered,
Past the for