Across Sordello's neck: This badge alone Makes you Romano's Head--becomes superb On your bare neck, which would, on mine, disturb The pauldron," said Taurello. A mad act, Nor even dreamed about before--in fact, Not when his sportive arm rose for the nonce-- But he had dallied overmuch, this once, With power: the thing was done, and he, aware The thing was done, proceeded to declare-- (So like a nature made to serve, excel In serving, only feel by service well!) --That he would make Sordello that and more. "As good a scheme as any. What's to pore At in my face?" he asked--"ponder instead This piece of news; you are Romano's Head! One cannot slacken pace so near the goal, Suffer my Azzo to escape heart-whole This time! For you there's Palma to espouse-- For me, one crowning trouble ere I house Like my compeer." On which ensued a strange And solemn visitation; there came change O'er every one of them; each looked on each: Up in the midst a truth grew, without speech. And when the giddiness sank and the haze Subsided, they were sitting, no amaze, Sordello with the baldric on, his sire [Sidenote: Who is declared Salinguerra's son,] Silent, though his proportions seemed aspire Momently; and, interpreting the thrill Right at its ebb, Palma was found there still Relating somewhat Adelaide confessed A year ago, while dying on her breast,-- Of a contrivance that Vicenza night When Ecelin had birth. "Their convoy's flight, Cut off a moment, coiled inside the flame That wallowed like a dragon at his game The toppling city through--San Biagio rocks! And wounded lies in her delicious locks Retrude, the frail mother, on her face, None of her wasted, just in one embrace Covering her child: when, as they lifted her, Cleaving the tumult, mighty, mightier And mightiest Taurello's cry outbroke, Leapt like a tongue of fire that cleaves the smoke, Midmost to cheer his Mantuans onward--drown His colleague Ecelin's clamor, up and down The disarray: failed Adelaide see then Who was the natural chief, the man of men? Outstripping time, her infant there burst swathe, Stood up with eyes haggard beyond the scathe From wandering after his heritage Lost once and lost for aye--and why that rage, That deprecating glance? A new shape leant On a familiar shape--gloatingly bent O'er his discomfiture; 'mid wreaths it wore, Still one outflamed the rest--her child's before 'T was Salinguerra's for his child: scorn, hate, Rage now might startle her when all too late! Then was the moment!--rival's foot had spurned [Sidenote: Hidden hitherto by Adelaide's policy.] Never that House to earth else! Sense returned-- The act conceived, adventured and complete, They bore away to an obscure retreat