And partly that I hoped to win you back,

And partly conscious of my own deserts,

And partly that you were my civil head,

And chiefly you were born for something great
In which I might your fellow-worker be,

When time should serve; and thus a noble scheme
Grew up from seed we two long since had sown ;
In us true growth, in her a Jonah's gourd,

Up in one night and due to sudden sun:

We took this palace; but even from the first

You stood in your own light and darken'd mine.
What student came but that you planed her path

To Lady Psyche, younger, not so wise,

A foreigner, and I your countrywoman,

I

your old friend and tried, she new in all ?

But still her lists were swell'd and mine were lean;

Yet I bore up in hope she would be known:

Then came these wolves: they knew her : they endured,

Long-closeted with her the yestermorn,

To tell her what they were, and she to hear:

And me none told: not less to an eye like mine,
A lidless watcher of the public weal,

Last night, their mask was patent, and my foot
Was to you but I thought again: I fear'd

To meet a cold 'We thank you, we shall hear of it
From Lady Psyche:' you had gone to her,
She told, perforce; and winning easy grace,
No doubt, for slight delay, remain'd among us
In our young nursery still unknown, the stem
Less grain than touchwood, while my honest heat
Were all miscounted as malignant haste
To push my rival out of place and power.
But public use required she should be known;
And since my oath was ta'en for public use,
I broke the letter of it to keep the sense.

I spoke not then at first, but watch'd them well,
Saw that they kept apart, no mischief done;
And yet this day (tho' you should hate me for it)
I judged it best to speak; but you had gone,
Ridden to the hills, she likewise: now, I thought,

That surely she will tell you; if not, then I.

Did she these monsters blazon'd what they were
According to the coarseness of their kind,
For thus I hear; and known at last (my work)
And full of cowardice and guilty shame,

I grant in her the merit of shame, she flies;
And I remain on whom to wreak your rage,
I, that have lent my life to build up yours,

I, that have wasted here health, wealth and time

And talents, I-you know it I will not boast.

Dismiss me, and I prophesy your plan,

Divorced from my experience, will be chaff

For every gust of chance, and men will say

We did not know the real light, but chased

The wisp that flickers where no foot can tread.'

She ceased the Princess answer'd coldly, 'Good:

Your oath is broken: we dismiss you go.

For this lost lamb (she pointed to the child)

Our mind is changed: we assume it to ourselves.'

Thereat the Lady stretch'd a vulture throat, And shot from crooked lips a haggard smile.

'The plan was mine. I built the nest,' she said,

To hatch the cuckoo. Rise!' and stoop'd to updrag

Melissa she, half on her mother propt,
Half-drooping from her, turn'd her face, and cast

A liquid look on Ida, full of prayer,

Which melted Florian's fancy as she hung,

A Niobëan daughter, one arm out,
Appealing to the bolts of Heaven; and while
We gazed upon her came a little stir

About the doors, and on a sudden ran in
Among us, all out of breath, as pursued,

A woman-post in flying raiment. Fear

Stared in her eyes, and chalk'd her face, and wing'd

Her transit to the throne, whereby she fell
Delivering seal'd dispatches, which the Head
Took half-amaz'd and in her lion's mood
Tore open, silent we with blind surmise
Regarding, while she read, till over brow

And cheek and bosom brake the wrathful bloom

As of some fire against a stormy cloud,

When the wild peasant rights himself, and the rick
Flames, and his anger reddens in the heavens ;

For anger most it seem'd, while now her breast,
Beaten with some great passion at her heart,
Palpitated, her hand shook, and we heard

In the dead hush the papers that she held

Rustle at once the lost lamb at her feet

Sent out a bitter bleating for its dam;

The plaintive cry jarr'd on her ire; she crush'd
The scrolls together, made a sudden turn

As if to speak, but, utterance failing her,

She whirl'd them on to me, as who should say

'Read,' and I read two letters

one her sire's.

'Fair daughter, when we sent the Prince your way

We knew not your ungracious laws, which learnt,

We, conscious of what temper you are built,

Came all in haste to hinder wrong, but fell