To-day time offers me
Place and occasion where
I can display to both
And prove to you the truth
That only I misfortune know and care.
OROMPO.
Marsilio, now attend
Unto the voice and sad theme of thy friend.
CRISIO.
Ah! hard oppressive absence, sad and drear,
How far must he have been from knowing thee,
Who did thy force and violence compare
To death's invincible supremacy!
For when death doth pronounce his doom severe,
What then can he do more, so weak is he,
That to undo the knot and stoutest tether
That holdeth soul and body firm together?
Thy cruel sword to greater ill extends,
Since into two one spirit it doth part.
Love's miracles, which no man understands,
Nor are attained by learning or by art.
Oh let my soul with one who understands,
There leave its half, and bring the weaker part
Hither, whereby more ill I on me lay,
Than if from life I were far, far away!
Away am I from yonder eyes so fair,
Which calmed my torment in my hour of need,
Eyes, life of him who could behold them clear,
If they the fancy did not further lead;
For to behold and think of merit there
Is but a foolish, daring, reckless deed,
I see them not, I saw them to my wrong,
And now I perish, for to see I long.
Longing have I, and rightly, to behold—
The term of my distress to abbreviate—
This friendship rent in twain which hath of old
United soul to flesh with love so great,
That from the frame set free which doth it hold,
With ready speed and wondrous flight elate,
It will be able to behold again
Those eyes, relief and glory to its pain.
Pain is the payment and the recompense
That Love doth to the absent lover give;
Herein is summed all suffering and offence,
That in Love's sufferings we do perceive;
Neither to use discretion for defence,
Nor in the fire of loyal love to live
With thoughts exalted, doth avail to assuage
This torment's cruel pain and violent rage.