there is nothing, howsoever fair,
That can be seen without the aid of light.
Easily mightest thou a maid ensnare,
Lord as thou was, and idol in her sight.
Her with thy honied words thou might'st have won,
To deem that cold and darksome was the sun.

XL
"Cruel, what sin can trouble thee, if thou
Do'st not her murder who loved thee repent?
If held so lightly be a breach of vow --
Beneath what burden will thy heart be bent?
What treatment will thine adversary know,
If one who loves like me thou so torment?
Justice is none in heaven, I well may say,
If Heaven its vengeance for my wrongs delay.

XLI
"If of all human sins of deepest dye
Be fell ingratitude; if doomed to smart
For this, the fairest angel of the sky
Was banished into foul and darksome part;
If mighty sins for mighty vengeance cry,
Where due atonement cleanses not the heart;
Beware lest thou beneath such vengeance groan,
Ingrate! that wouldest not thy sin atone.

XLII
"Cruel Rogero, I of theft, beside
All other sins, may justly thee arraign.
That thou my heart has ravished form my side,
-- Of this offence I will not, I complain --
But, having made it mine, that thou defied
All right, and took away thy gift again.
Restore it; well thou know'st what pains requite
His sin, who keeps what is another's right.

XLIII
"Thou hast left me, Rogero; thee to leave,
Alas! I neither will nor power possess.
But will and power have I my life to reave,
To scape from this o'erwhelming wretchedness.
To die at strife with thee alone I grieve:
For, had the gods so pleased my lot to bless,
As to require my life, when loved of thee,
Never so welcome had been death to me."

XLIV
Resolved to die, 'twas so the damsel cried;
And starting from her bed, by passion warmed,
To her left breast her naked sword applied;
Then recollected she was wholly armed.
Meanwhile her better Spirit, at her side,
With these persuasive words her fury charmed:
"O lady, born to such illustrious name!
Would'st thou conclude thy life with such foul shame?

XLV
"Were it not better to the field to go,
Where aye thy breath with glory may be spent?
There, should Rogero chance to lay thee low,
He to have slain thee haply may repent;
But, should his faulchion deal the mortal blow,
What death could ever yield thee more content?
Reason it were thou should'st by him be slain,
W