| |
| THE BELL struck one, and shook the silent tower; | |
| The graves give up their dead: fair Elenor | |
| Walk’d by the castle gate, and lookèd in. | |
| A hollow groan ran thro’ the dreary vaults. | |
| |
| She shriek’d aloud, and sunk upon the steps, | 5 |
| On the cold stone her pale cheeks. Sickly smells | |
| Of death issue as from a sepulchre, | |
| And all is silent but the sighing vaults. | |
| |
| Chill Death withdraws his hand, and she revives; | |
| Amaz’d, she finds herself upon her feet, | 10 |
| And, like a ghost, thro’ narrow passages | |
| Walking, feeling the cold walls with her hands. | |
| |
| Fancy returns, and now she thinks of bones | |
| And grinning skulls, and corruptible death | |
| Wrapp’d in his shroud; and now fancies she hears | 15 |
| Deep sighs, and sees pale sickly ghosts gliding. | |
| |
| At length, no fancy but reality | |
| Distracts her. A rushing sound, and the feet | |
| Of one that fled, approaches.—Ellen stood | |
| Like a dumb statue, froze to stone with fear. | 20 |
| |
| The wretch approaches, crying: ‘The deed is done; | |
| Take this, and send it by whom thou wilt send; | |
| It is my life—send it to Elenor:— | |
| He’s dead, and howling after me for blood! | |
| |
| ‘Take this,’ he cried; and thrust into her arms | 25 |
| A wet napkin, wrapp’d about; then rush’d | |
| Past, howling: she receiv’d into her arms | |
| Pale death, and follow’d on the wings of fear. | |
| |
| They pass’d swift thro’ the outer gate; the wretch, | |
| Howling, leap’d o’er the wall into the moat, | 30 |
| Stifling in mud. Fair Ellen pass’d the bridge, | |
| And heard a gloomy voice cry ‘Is it done?’ | |
| |
| As the deer wounded, Ellen flew over | |
| The pathless plain; as the arrows that fly | |
| By night, destruction flies, and strikes in darkness. | 35 |
| She fled from fear, till at her house arriv’d. | |
| |
| Her maids await her; on her bed she falls, | |
| That bed of joy, where erst her lord hath press’d: | |
| ‘Ah, woman’s fear!’ she cried; ‘ah, cursèd duke! | |
| Ah, my dear lord! ah, wretched Elenor! | 40 |
| |
| ‘My lord was like a flower upon the brows | |
| Of lusty May! Ah, life as frail as flower! | |
| O ghastly death! withdraw thy cruel hand, | |
| Seek’st thou that flow’r to deck thy horrid temples? | |
| |
| ‘My lord was like a star in highest heav’n | 45 |
| Drawn down to earth by spells and wickedness; | |
| My lord was like the opening eyes of day | |
| When western winds creep softly o’er the flowers; | |
| |
| ‘But he is darken’d; like the summer’s noon | |
| Clouded; fall’n like the stately tree, cut down; | 50 |
| The breath of heaven dwelt among his leaves. | |
| O Elenor, weak woman, fill’d with woe!’ | |
| |
| Thus having spoke, she raisèd up her head, | |
| And saw the bloody napkin by her side, | |
| Which in her arms she brought; and now, tenfold | 55 |
| More terrified, saw it unfold itself. | |
| |
| Her eyes were fix’d; the bloody cloth unfolds, | |
| Disclosing to her sight the murder’d head | |
| Of her dear lord, all ghastly pale, clotted | |
| With gory blood; it groan’d, and thus it spake: | 60 |
| |
| ‘O Elenor, I am thy husband’s head, | |
| Who, sleeping on the stones of yonder tower, | |
| Was ’reft of life by the accursèd duke! | |
| A hirèd villain turn’d my sleep to death! | |
| |
| ‘O Elenor, beware the cursèd duke; | 65 |
| O give not him thy hand, now I am dead; | |
| He seeks thy love; who, coward, in the night, | |
| Hirèd a villain to bereave my life.’ | |
| |
| She sat with dead cold limbs, stiffen’d to stone: | |
| She took the gory head up in her arms; | 70 |
| She kiss’d the pale lips; she had no tears to shed; | |
| She hugg’d it to her breast, and groan’d her last. | |
| |
