Allegories; Frame stories; Plague -- Europe -- History -- Fiction; Storytelling -- Fiction
Now when her father had left her, Ghismonda, wavering not a jot in her stern
resolve, had sent for poisonous herbs and roots, and therefrom had distilled
a water, to have it ready for use, if that which she apprehended should come
to pass. And when the servant appeared with the Prince's present and
message, she took the cup unblenchingly, and having lifted the lid, and seen
the heart, and apprehended the meaning of the words, and that the heart was
beyond a doubt Guiscardo's, she raised her head, and looking straight at the
servant, said:--"Sepulture less honourable than of gold had ill befitted
heart such as this: herein has my father done wisely." Which said, she
raised it to her lips, and kissed it, saying:--"In all things and at all
times, even to this last hour of my life, have I found my father most tender
in his love, but now more so than ever before; wherefore I now render him
the last thanks which will ever be due from me to him for this goodly
present." So she spoke, and straining the cup to her, bowed her head over
it, and gazing at the heart, said:--"Ah! sojourn most sweet of all my joys,
accursed be he by whose ruthless act I see thee with the bodily eye: 'twas
enough that to the mind's eye thou wert hourly present. Thou hast run thy
course; thou hast closed the span that Fortune allotted thee; thou hast
reached the goal of all; thou hast left behind thee the woes and weariness
of the world; and thy enemy has himself granted thee sepulture accordant
with thy deserts. No circumstance was wanting to duly celebrate thy
obsequies, save the tears of her whom, while thou livedst, thou didst so
dearly love; which that thou shouldst not lack, my remorseless father was
prompted of God to send thee to me, and, albeit my resolve was fixed to die
with eyes unmoistened and front all unperturbed by fear, yet will I accord
thee my tears; which done, my care shall be forthwith by thy means to join
my soul to that most precious soul which thou didst once enshrine. And is
there other company than hers, in which with more of joy and peace I might
fare to the abodes unknown? She is yet here within, I doubt not,
contemplating the abodes of her and my delights, and--for sure I am that she
loves me--awaiting my soul that loves her before all else."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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