The Tales of the Heptameron, Vol. 3 (of 5)Marguerite, Queen, consort of Henry II, King of Navarre
General
The Tales of the Heptameron, Vol. 3 (of 5)
Marguerite, Queen, consort of Henry II, King of Navarre
Love stories, French -- Translations into English; Tales -- France -- Translations into English
What shall they say,
Who wronged us, they
Who have slain our heart’s desire,
Seeing true love
Doth flawless prove,
Thus tried as gold in fire?
When they see my heart is single,
Their remorseful tears shall mingle,
Each and other weeping sore.
What word shall be, &c.
And should they come
To will us home,
How vain were all endeavour!
“Nay, side by side,
“We here shall bide
“Till soul from soul shall sever.
“Though of love your hate bereaves us
“Yet the veil and cowl it leaves us,
“We shall wear till life be o’er.”
What word shall be, &c.
And should they move
Our flesh to love
Once more the mockers, singing
Of fruits and flowers
In golden hours
For mated hearts upspringing;
We shall say: “Our lives are given,
Flower and fruit, to God in Heaven,
Who shall hold them evermore.”
What word shall be, &c.
O victor Love!
Whose might doth move
My wearied footsteps hither,
Here grant me days
Of prayer and praise,
Grant faith that ne’er shall wither;
Love of each to either given,
Hallowed by the grace of Heaven,
God shall bless for evermore.
What word shall be, &c.
Avaunt Earth’s weal!
Its bands are steel
To souls that yearn for Heaven;
Avaunt Earth’s pride!
Deep Hell shall hide
Hearts that for fame have striven.
Far be lust of earthly pleasure,
Purity, our priceless treasure,
Christ shall grant us of His store.
What word shall be, &c.
Swift be thy feet,
My own, my sweet,
Thine own true lover follow;
Fear not the veil,
The cloister’s pall
Keeps far Earth’s spectres hollow.
Sinks the fire with fitful flashes,
Soars the Phoenix from his ashes,
Love yields Life for evermore.
What word shall be, &c.
Love, that no power
Of dreariest hour,
Could change, no scorn, no rage,
Now heavenly free
From Earth shall be,
In this, our hermitage.
Winged of love that upward, onward,
Ageless, boundless, bears us sunward,
To the heavens our souls shall soar.
What word shall be, &c.
On reading these verses through in a chapel where she was alone, Pauline
began to weep so bitterly that all the paper was wetted with her tears.
Had it not been for her fear of showing a deeper affection than was
seemly, she would certainly have withdrawn forthwith to some hermitage,
and never have looked upon a living being again; but her native
discretion moved her to dissemble for a little while longer. And
although she was now resolved to leave the world entirely, she feigned
the very opposite, and so altered her countenance, that in company she
was altogether unlike her real self. For five or six months did she
carry this secret purpose in her heart, making a greater show of mirth
than had ever been her wont.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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