The Complete Poems of Robert Browning - 22 Poetry Collections in One Edition. Robert Browning
“Change the world’s face?” asked people; “as ‘t is now
“It has been, will be ever: very fine
“Subjecting things profane to things divine,
“In talk! This contumacy will fatigue
“The vigilance of Este and the League!
“The Ghibellins gain on us!” — as it happed.
Old Azzo and old Boniface, entrapped
By Ponte Alto, both in one month’s space
Slept at Verona: either left a brace
Of sons — but, three years after, either’s pair
Lost Guglielm and Aldobrand its heir:
Azzo remained and Richard — all the stay
Of Este and Saint Boniface, at bay
As ‘t were. Then, either Ecelin grew old
Or his brain altered — not o’ the proper mould
For new appliances — his old palm-stock
Endured no influx of strange strengths. He ‘d rock
As in a drunkenness, or chuckle low
As proud of the completeness of his woe,
Then weep real tears; — now make some mad onslaught
On Este, heedless of the lesson taught
So painfully, — now cringe for peace, sue peace
At price of past gain, bar of fresh increase
To the fortunes of Romano. Up at last
Rose Este, down Romano sank as fast.
And men remarked these freaks of peace and war
Happened while Salinguerra was afar:
Whence every friend besought him, all in vain,
To use his old adherent’s wits again.
Not he! — ”who had advisers in his sons,
“Could plot himself, nor needed any one’s
“Advice.” ‘T was Adelaide’s remaining staunch
Prevented his destruction root and branch
Forthwith; but when she died, doom fell, for gay
He made alliances, gave lands away
To whom it pleased accept them, and withdrew
For ever from the world. Taurello, who
Was summoned to the convent, then refused
A word at the wicket, patience thus abused,
Promptly threw off alike his imbecile
Ally’s yoke, and his own frank, foolish smile.
Soon a few movements of the happier sort
Changed matters, put himself in men’s report
As heretofore; he had to fight, beside,
And that became him ever. So, in pride
And flushing of this kind of second youth,
He dealt a goodwill blow. Este in truth
Lay prone — and men remembered, somewhat late,
A laughing old outrageous stifled hate
He bore to Este — how it would outbreak
At times spite of disguise, like an earthquake
In sunny weather — as that noted day
When with his hundred friends he tried to slay
Azzo before the Kaiser’s face: and how,
On Azzo’s calm refusal to allow
A liegeman’s challenge, straight he too was calmed:
As if his hate could bear to lie embalmed,
Bricked up, the moody Pharaoh, and survive
All intermediate crumblings, to arrive
At earth’s catastrophe — ’t was Este’s crash
Not Azzo’s he demanded, so, no rash
Procedure! Este’s true antagonist
Rose out of Ecelin: all voices whist,
All eyes were sharpened, wits predicted. He
‘T was, leaned in the embrasure absently,
Amused with his own efforts, now, to trace
With his steel-sheathed forefinger Friedrich’s face
I’ the dust: but as the trees waved sere, his smile
Deepened, and words expressed its thought erewhile.
“Ay, fairly housed at last, my old compeer?
“That we should stick together, all the year
“I kept Vicenza! — How old Boniface,
“Old Azzo caught us in its market-place,
“He by that pillar, I at this, — caught each
“In mid swing, more than fury of his speech,
“Egging the rabble on to disavow
“Allegiance to their Marquis — Bacchus, how
“They boasted! Ecelin must turn their drudge,
“Nor, if released, will Salinguerra grudge
“Paying arrears of tribute due long since —
“Bacchus! My man could promise then, nor wince
“The bones-and-muscles! Sound of wind and limb,
“Spoke he the set excuse I framed for him:
“And now he sits me, slavering and mute,
“Intent on chafing each starved purple foot
“Benumbed past aching with the altar slab:
“Will no vein throb there when some monk shall blab
“Spitefully to the circle of bald scalps,
“‘Friedrich ‘s affirmed to be our side the Alps’
“ — Eh, brother Lactance, brother Anaclet?
“Sworn to abjure the world, its fume and fret,
“God’s own now? Drop the dormitory bar,
“Enfold the scanty grey serge scapular
“Twice o’er the cowl to muffle memories out!
“So! But the midnight whisper turns a shout,
“Eyes wink, mouths open, pulses circulate
“In the stone walls: the past, the world you hate
“Is with you, ambush, open field — or see
“The surging flame — we fire Vicenza — glee!
“Follow, let Pilio and Bernardo chafe!
“Bring up the Mantuans — through San Biagio — safe!
“Ah, the mad people waken? Ah, they writhe
“And reach us? If they block the gate? No tithe
“Can pass — keep back, you Bassanese! The edge,
“Use the edge — shear, thrust, hew, melt down the wedge,
“Let out the black of those black upturned eyes!
“Hell — are they sprinkling fire too? The blood fries
“And hisses on your brass gloves as they tear
“Those upturned faces choking with despair.
“Brave! Slidder through the reeking gate! `How now?
“‘You six had charge of her?’ And then the