Count Julio.
153
Till the sharp nails wore furrows in the palms.
Thus stole he forth at even, and, with eyes
Lost in the golden future of his dreams,
Sped through the busy crowd, unmarked, unheeding.
Thus stole he forth at even, and, with eyes
Lost in the golden future of his dreams,
Sped through the busy crowd, unmarked, unheeding.
Once had he looked upon Bianca's face—
Once had she knelt before him, with her child
Gasping upon her breast, and prayed for succour.
The unwept victim of a drunken brawl
Her lord had fallen, and the palace halls
That owned her mistress, were deserted now.
She had braved fear and hunger, till her child
Wailed dying on her bosom; and so urged,
Pride, shame, forgotten in a mother's love,
Clung to his knees for pardon. But in vain.
He cursed her as she knelt, bade her go forth,
And 'mid the loathsome suppliants that unveil
Disease and suffering to the eye of wealth,
Bare, too, her anguish to the glance of pity.
Then as she lingered, spurned her from his feet
With words that chilled her agony to dread,
And drove her thence in horror.
From that day
Once had she knelt before him, with her child
Gasping upon her breast, and prayed for succour.
The unwept victim of a drunken brawl
Her lord had fallen, and the palace halls
That owned her mistress, were deserted now.
She had braved fear and hunger, till her child
Wailed dying on her bosom; and so urged,
Pride, shame, forgotten in a mother's love,
Clung to his knees for pardon. But in vain.
He cursed her as she knelt, bade her go forth,
And 'mid the loathsome suppliants that unveil
Disease and suffering to the eye of wealth,
Bare, too, her anguish to the glance of pity.
Then as she lingered, spurned her from his feet
With words that chilled her agony to dread,
And drove her thence in horror.
From that day
