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Page 36
"It seems that then
Emilio wrote and pleaded anxiously
With an ungenerous father, who, half dead
For years in body, was all dead in soul,
A man who wrote, 'Why marry her, if poor
And so obscure? she might be easier had.
But, if you think of marriage, find a dower,
And, if you can, some interest at court,
Here or elsewhere. And, if you've looked in vain,
I've the right woman for you here at hand;
Not ugly either, for a wife.' I think
It was in that same letter that he said,
'But, if you play this folly out, take note
You'll have my blessing, Carlo every doit
The law will let me strip you of, and that
Is nearly all my having.' I believe
Emilio wrote and wrote to him again,
And then, still answered thus, defied him. Then
The old man wrote, 'Thou hast my blessing son.
Be happy to thy liking. May thy wife
Repay thee fitly for thine ardent love.'
And that Emilio brought, and said 'Now read,
And give me Lota.' And my father knew
The old man was infirm and seldom took
The pen in his flail fingers, so he thought,
'This, written by his own unsteady hand
Shows willingness enough,' and was content.
"My husband put the letters in my hand -
They told the story, I asked nought of him.
But he was voluble with argument
How love excused him. And he dared to think
I still might love him! But I answered him
With weariness and loathing, for I thought
Of my father who would nearly break his heart
To know what husband he had given me,
My father who wore truth so near his soul
He almost lost the sense that men could lie.
And the man who said he loved me lied to him!
Lied to his shaming and to mine, that I,
His daughter, should be shown, like some poor drudge
From the kitchen or the farmyard, half abashed
And half puffed-up to be her master's mate,
Creeping by marriage up a backstairs way
Into a scornful household.
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