Page:The Mysterious Mother - Walpole (1781).djvu/16
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THE MYSTERIOUS MOTHER.
This woman was not cast in human mould.
Ten such would foil a council, would unbuild
Our Roman church—In her devotion's real.
Our beads, our hymns, our saints, amuse her not:
Nay, not confession, not repeating o'er
Her darling sins, has any charms for her.
I have mark'd her praying: not one wand'ring thought
Seems to steal meaning from her words.—She prays
Because she feels, and feels, because a sinner.
Ten such would foil a council, would unbuild
Our Roman church—In her devotion's real.
Our beads, our hymns, our saints, amuse her not:
Nay, not confession, not repeating o'er
Her darling sins, has any charms for her.
I have mark'd her praying: not one wand'ring thought
Seems to steal meaning from her words.—She prays
Because she feels, and feels, because a sinner.
MARTIN.
What is this secret sin; this untold tale,
That art cannot extract, nor penance cleanse?
Loss of a husband, sixteen years enjoy'd,
And dead as many, could not stamp such sorrow.
Nor could she be his death's artificer,
And now affect to weep it—I have heard,
That chasing, as he homeward rode, a stag,
Chas'd by the hounds, with sudden onset flew
Th' adventurous count.
What is this secret sin; this untold tale,
That art cannot extract, nor penance cleanse?
Loss of a husband, sixteen years enjoy'd,
And dead as many, could not stamp such sorrow.
Nor could she be his death's artificer,
And now affect to weep it—I have heard,
That chasing, as he homeward rode, a stag,
Chas'd by the hounds, with sudden onset flew
Th' adventurous count.
BENEDICT.
'Twas so; and yet, my brother,
My mind has more than once imputed blood
To this incessant mourner. Beatrice,
The damsel for whose sake she holds in exile
Her only son, has never, since the night
Of his incontinence, been seen or heard of.
'Twas so; and yet, my brother,
My mind has more than once imputed blood
To this incessant mourner. Beatrice,
The damsel for whose sake she holds in exile
Her only son, has never, since the night
Of his incontinence, been seen or heard of.
MARTIN.
'Tis clear, 'tis clear; nor will her prudent tongue
Accuse its owner.
'Tis clear, 'tis clear; nor will her prudent tongue
Accuse its owner.
BENEDICT.
Judge not rashly, brother.
I oft have shifted my discourse to murder:
She notes it not. Her muscles hold their place,
Judge not rashly, brother.
I oft have shifted my discourse to murder:
She notes it not. Her muscles hold their place,
Nor