THE LEGEND OF FLORENCE: AGOLANTI AND HIS LADY by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT

IN all except a heart, and a black shade
Of superstition, he is man enough!
Has a bold blood, large brain, and liberal hand
As far as the purse goes; albeit he likes
The going to be blown abroad with trumpets.
Nay, I won't swear he does not love his wife
As well as a man of no sort of affection,
Nor any domestic tenderness, can do so.
He highly approves her virtues, talents, beauty:
Thinks her the sweetest woman in all Florence,
Partly, because she is, -- partly, because
She is his own, and glorifies his choice;
And therefore he does her the honour of making her
The representative and epitome
Of all he values, -- public reputation,
Private obedience, delighted fondness,
Grateful return for his unamiableness,
Love without bounds, in short, for his self-love:
And as she finds it difficult, poor soul,
To pay such reasonable demands at sight
With the whole treasure of her heart and smiles,
The gentleman takes pity on -- himself!
Looks on himself as the most unresponded to
And unaccountably ill-used bad temper
In Tuscany; rages at every word
And look she gives another; and fills the house
With miseries, which, because they ease himself
And his vile spleen, he thinks her bound to suffer;
And then finds malice in her very suffering!
. . . And yet, observe now: --
Such is poor human nature, at least such
Is poor human inhuman nature in this man,
That if she were to die, I verily think
He'd weep, and sit at the receipt of pity,
And call upon the gods, and think he loved her!

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!

Other Poems of Interest...