beauteous good p. 40O’er the soft bloom of neck and arms and cheek, And strengthened the sweet body, once so weak, Until she rose and walked, and, like a bird With sweetly rippling throat, she made her spring joys heard.

p. 40

The king, when he the happy change had seen, Trusted the ear of Constance, his fair queen, With Lisa’s innocent secret, and conferred How they should jointly, by their deed and word, Honor this maiden’s love, which, like the prayer Of loyal hermits, never thought to share In what it gave. The queen had that chief grace Of womanhood, a heart that can embrace All goodness in another woman’s form; And that same day, ere the sun lay too warm On southern terraces, a messenger Informed Bernardo that the royal pair p. 41Would straightway visit him, and celebrate Their gladness at his daughter’s happier state, Which they were fain to see. Soon came the king On horseback, with his barons, heralding The advent of the queen in courtly state; And all, descending at the garden gate, Streamed with their feathers, velvet, and brocade, Through the pleached alleys, till they, pausing, made A lake of splendor ’mid the aloes gray; When, meekly facing all their proud array, The white-robed Lisa with her parents stood, As some white dove before the gorgeous brood Of dapple-breasted birds born by the Colchian flood. p. 42The king and queen, by gracious looks and speech, Encourage her, and thus their courtiers teach How, this fair morning, they may courtliest be, By making Lisa pass it happily. And soon the ladies and the barons all Draw her by turns, as at a festival Made for her sake, to easy, gay discourse, And compliment with looks and smiles enforce; A joyous hum is heard the gardens round; Soon there is Spanish dancing, and the sound Of minstrel’s song, and autumn fruits are pluckt; Till mindfully the king and queen conduct Lisa apart to where a trellised shade Made pleasant resting. Then King Pedro said,— “Excellent maiden, that rich gift of love Your heart hath made us hath a worth above All royal treasures, nor is fitly met p. 43Save when the grateful memory of deep debt Lies still behind the outward honors done: And as a sign that no oblivion Shall overflood that faithful memory, We while we live your cavalier will be; Nor will we ever arm ourselves for fight, Whether for struggle dire, or brief delight Of warlike feigning, but we first will take The colors you ordain, and for your sake Charge the more bravely where your emblem is: Nor will we claim from you an added bliss To our sweet thoughts of you save one sole kiss. But there still rests the outward honor meet To mark your worthiness; and we entreat That you will turn your 

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