But when the early dawn appeared in heaven,
He in whose keeping that foul fane was left,
No longer saw the image in the place

Where it was put, and sought in vain elsewhere.
Forthwith he told the king, who, at the news
Received from him, betrayed the fiercest wrath,
And thought one of the faithful had no doubt
That theft committed, and concealed himself.

It was the secret deed of faithful hand,
Or Heaven exerted here its mighty power,
Indignant that so vile a place should hold
The form of her who is its queen divine :
For men still doubt if it should be ascribed
To human art or miracle divine:

Alas that, human piety and zeal

Declining, Heaven the author should be deemed.

The king had every church and every house
Explored throughout with searching scrutiny;
And promised great rewards and penalties
To him who showed or hid the theft or thief:
The magian, too, ceased not with all his arts
To try and spy the truth out; but in vain;
For Heaven, were it its own or other's work,
Concealed it from him in despite of charms.

But when the cruel king saw that was hid,
Which he believed the crime of faithful ones,
With bitter hate against them he grew fierce,
And burnt with fury boundless and intense;
Forgot all scruple, and resolved revenge,

Follow what might, to ease his burning heart.

"Not vain my wrath," quoth he, "the unknown thief Shall perish in the general massacre.

'If but the guilty be not saved, the just
And innocent may die-just, do I say?

Each one is guilty, nor, in their whole tribe
Was ever found a man the friend of ours.

If in fresh fault there is a heart sincere,

Let old offence suffice for punishment:

Up! up! my faithful men, up! take with you
Both fire and sword, now burn and slay them all."

Thus spake he to the multitude, and soon

The news was heard among the faithful ones,
Who stood amazed, so much were they surprised
By fear of death now present to their view:
Nor is there one who ventures or attempts
Flight or defence, entreaty or excuse.
But the irresolute and timid tribe

Had safety whence they least expected it.

Among them was a maiden now full grown
In maidenhood, of high and noble thoughts,
Of beauty rare; but she her beauty slights,
Except as ornament of chastity.

Her greatest charm is, that within the walls
Of a small house she hides her charms so great,
And from admirers' looks and eulogies
She steals away, uncourted and alone.

But beauty that is worthy to appear

And be admired, no care can keep concealed
Nor dost thou, Love, allow this, but revealst
It to the eager passions of a youth:
Love, who, now blind, now Argus, veilst our eyes
With bands, now openest and turnest them,-
Thou, through a thousand guards another's glance
Dost bear within the purest virgin's home.

Sofronia is her name, Olindo his;

Both of one city, both, too, of one faith.
He, who as modest is as she is fair,
Longs much, hopes little, does not ask at all,
Cannot or dare not speak his mind, and she
Disdains, or does not see him or perceive.
Thus he, unhappy one, till now has served,
Not seen, or not well known, or ill received.

Meanwhile the news is heard, that for their race
A miserable slaughter is prepared.

To her who is as brave as she is fair,

Occurs the thought of saving them from death. Boldness suggests the thought, which then is checked By modesty and maiden seemliness:

Boldness prevails, or rather it is reconciled,

And grows most modest, modesty grows bold.

The virgin through the crowd went forth alone:
Her charms she neither hid nor yet displayed:
Her eyes cast down, her veil drawn close, she went
With modest manner and a noble air.

You cannot say if decked or unadorned,

If chance or art composed the lovely face :
The negligence is but the artifice

Of nature, love, and favouring Providence.

Looked at by all, the noble girl looks not,
But passes on, and comes before the king:

Nor, though she sees him wroth, draws back her foot,
But his ferocious aspect bears unmoved.

"I come, Sire," said she,-" and meanwhile suspend, I pray, your wrath, your people, too, restrain—

I come to show you and deliver up

Whom you now seek, who has offended you."

The king, as if confused or overcome

By such high courage, and the sudden blaze

Of beauty so exalted and so pure,

Restrained his wrath, and calmed his countenance.

He, less severe in heart, or she in look,

The savage chief became in love with her;
But stubborn beauty wins not stubborn heart;
Compliant graces are the food of love.

It was amazement, eagerness, delight,
If not true love, that moved his cruel heart.
“Tell all,” said he to her, “lo! I engage
The Christian people shall not suffer harm."
And she: "The guilty one is in your sight:
The theft, Sire, was the work of this right hand:
I took away the image; I am she,
Whom you are seeking; you should punish me."

Thus she opposed her head to public fate,
And wished to bring it on herself alone.
Oh, noble-minded falsehood! when is truth
So grand that it can be preferred to thee?—
The cruel tyrant in suspense remained,
Nor passed to wrath so soon as he was wont.
Then asked again: "I wish you to make known
Who gave advice, and who joined in the work."

"I did not choose," said she, “the smallest part
Of this my glory should another's be:
I was alone aware of my design,

Sole counsellor and sole executrix."

"On thee alone, then," he replied, "shall fall The utmost fury of my vengeful ire."

""Tis just," said she, "that I, who was alone In honour, be alone in punishment."

The tyrant now began again to rage:

Then asked her: "Where hast thou the image hid?" "I have not hid, but burnt it," she replied; "And burning it I thought a worthy deed: Thus it at least can never more be harmed By the injurious hands of infidels. The stolen or the stealer, Sire, you seek; That you will never see, this now behold.

"But neither is it theft nor am I thief:

'Tis just to take back what was wrongly ta'en."On hearing this, in loud and threatening tone

The tyrant raged, his fury knew no bounds.

Let her chaste heart, high mind, and noble countenance

No longer hope a pardon to obtain:

In vain does Love against such cruel wrath

Make of her charming beauty a defence.

The lovely girl is captured, and the king
Enraged, condemns her to be burnt to death.
Her veil and modest cloak are snatched away,
And her soft arms are tightly bound with cords.
Silent she stands, the heart within her breast
Is not dismayed, indeed, but greatly moved;
And her sweet face is to a colour changed
That is not paleness, but a brighter hue.

The great event was known; and hither came
The people, and Olindo, too, ran up :
The person doubtful, certain was the fact:
There was a doubt it might be his beloved.
When he the lonely captive saw in guise,
Not of a criminal, but one condemned;
And saw the officers on their hard task
Intent, he dashed in haste against the crowd.