LYSANDER. Ah! Justina, I have long
Kept this secret from your ears,
Fearing from your tender years
That the telling might be wrong;
But now seeing you are strong,
Firm in thought, in action brave,
Seeing too, that with this stave,
I go creeping o'er the ground,
Rapping with a hollow sound
At the portals of the grave,
Knowing that my time is brief,
I would not here leave you, no,
In your ignorance; I owe
My own peace, too, this relief:
Then attentive to my grief
Let your pleasure list.
JUSTINA. A fear
Struggles in my breast.
LYSANDER. Severe
Is the test my duty pays.
JUSTINA. From this most perplexing maze
Oh, sir, rescue me.
LYSANDER. Then hear.
I, most beautiful Justina,
Am Lysander . . . . This commencement
With my name need not surprise you;
For though known to you already,
It is right, for all that follows,
That it should be well remembered,
Since of me you know no more
Than what this my name presenteth.
Yes, I am Lysander, son
Of that city which on Seven
Hills a hydra seems of stone,
Since it seven proud heads erecteth;
Of that city now the seat
Of the mighty Roman empire,
Cradle of Christ's wider realm,--
Boon that Rome alone could merit.
There of poor and humble parents
I was born, if "poor" expresses
Well their rank who left behind them
Virtues, not vain earthly treasures.
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