as Paolo _il Bello_. To secure their alliance Polenta married
his daughter Francesca to Malatesta's elder son Giovanni; but she had
already learned to love, or she soon came to love, his brother Paolo
il Bella. Giovanni came upon them one night in Rimini and killed them
both with one thrust of his sword. The tragedy, however, should only
be told in the immortal words of Dante, who recounts the tale
Francesca told him in the second circle of the Inferno. For seeing
Francesca and her lover floating for ever in each other arms "light
before the wind," as the wind swayed them towards Virgil and himself
the Florentine addressed them:

"O wearied spirits come, and hold discourse
With us, if by none else restrained.' As doves
By fond desire invited, on wide wings
And firm, to their sweet nest returning home,
Cleave the air, wafted by their will along,
Thus issued, from that troop where Dido ranks,
They, through the ill air speeding, with such force
My cry prevailed, by strong affection urged.
'O gracious creature and benign! who go'st
Visiting, through this element obscure,
Us, who the world with bloody stain imbrued,
If, for a friend, the King of all, we own'd,
Our prayer to him should for thy peace arise,
Since thou hast pity on our evil plight
Of whatsoe'er to hear or to discourse
It pleases thee, that will we hear, of that
Freely with thee discourse, while e'er the wind
As now is mute The land that gave me birth
Is situate on the coast, where Po descends
To rest in ocean with his sequent streams
'Love that in gentle heart is quickly learnt
Entangled him by that fair form, from me
Ta'en in such cruel sort, as grieves me still,
Love that denial takes from none beloved
Caught me with pleasing him so passing well
That as thou seest, he yet deserts me not
'Love brought us to one death, Caina waits
The soul who spilt our life' Such were their words,
At hearing which downward I bent my looks
And held them there so long that the bard cried
'What art thou pondering?' I in answer thus
'Alas' by what sweet thoughts, what fond desire
Must they at length to that ill pass have reached'
Then turning, I to them my speech address'd,
And thus began 'Francesca! your sad fate
Even to tears my grief and pity moves
But tell me, in the time of your sweet sighs,
By what, and how Love granted, that ye knew
Your yet uncertain wishes?' She replied
'No grea