XIX Admired of all, on went this noble maid, Until the presence of the king she gained, Nor for he swelled with ire was she afraid, But his fierce wrath with fearless grace sustained, “I come,” quoth she, “but be thine anger stayed, And causeless rage ’gainst faultless souls restrained— I come to show thee, and to bring thee both, The wight whose fact hath made thy heart so wroth.”
XX Her molest boldness, and that lightning ray Which her sweet beauty streamed on his face, Had struck the prince with wonder and dismay, Changed his cheer, and cleared his moody grace, That had her eyes disposed their looks to play, The king had snared been in love’s strong lace; But wayward beauty doth not fancy move, A frown forbids, a smile engendereth love.
XXI It was amazement, wonder and delight, Although not love, that moved his cruel sense; “Tell on,” quoth he, “unfold the chance aright, Thy people’s lives I grant for recompense.” Then she, “Behold the faulter here in sight, This hand committed that supposed offence, I took the image, mine that fault, that fact, Mine be the glory of that virtuous act.”
XXII This spotless lamb thus offered up her blood, To save the rest of Christ’s selected fold, O noble lie! was ever truth so good? Blest be the lips that such a leasing told: Thoughtful awhile remained the tyrant wood, His native wrath he gan a space withhold, And said, “That thou discover soon I will, What aid? what counsel had’st thou in that ill?”
XXIII “My lofty thoughts,” she answered him, “envied Another’s hand should work my high desire, The thirst of glory can no partner bide, With mine own self I did alone conspire.” “On thee alone,” the tyrant then replied, “Shall fall the vengeance of my wrath and ire.” “’Tis just and right,” quoth she, “I yield consent, Mine be the honor, mine the punishment.”
XXIV The wretch of new enraged at the same, Asked where she hid the image so conveyed: “Not hid,” quoth she, “but quite consumed with flame, The idol is of that eternal maid, For so at least I have preserved the same, With hands profane from being eft betrayed. My Lord, the thing thus stolen demand no more, Here see the thief that scorneth death therefor.
XXV “And yet no theft was this, yours was the sin, I brought again what you unjustly took.” This heard, the tyrant did for rage begin To whet his teeth, and bend his frowning look, No pity, youth; fairness, no grace could win; Joy, comfort, hope, the virgin all forsook; Wrath killed remorse, vengeance stopped mercy’s breath Love’s thrall to hate, and beauty’s slave to death.