I led you then to all the Castalies；
I fed you with the milk of every Muse；
I loved you like this kneeler， and you me Your second mother： those were gracious times.
Then came your new friend： you began to change--I saw it and grieved--to slacken and to cool；Till taken with her seeming openness You turned your warmer currents all to her， To me you froze： this was my meed for all.
Yet I bore up in part from ancient love， And partly that I hoped to win you back， And partly conscious of my own deserts， And partly that you were my civil head， And chiefly you were born for something great， In which I might your fellow-worker be， When time should serve； and thus a noble scheme Grew up from seed we two long since had sown；In us true growth， in her a Jonah's gourd， Up in one night and due to sudden sun：
We took this palace； but even from the first You stood in your own light and darkened mine.
What student came but that you planed her path To Lady Psyche， younger， not so wise， A foreigner， and I your countrywoman， I your old friend and tried， she new in all？
But still her lists were swelled and mine were lean；Yet I bore up in hope she would be known：
Then came these wolves： ~they~ knew her： ~they~ endured， Long-closeted with her the yestermorn， To tell her what they were， and she to hear：
And me none told： not less to an eye like mine A lidless watcher of the public weal， Last night， their mask was patent， and my foot Was to you： but I thought again： I feared To meet a cold "We thank you， we shall hear of it From Lady Psyche：" you had gone to her， She told， perforce； and winning easy grace No doubt， for slight delay， remained among us In our young nursery still unknown， the stem Less grain than touchwood， while my honest heat Were all miscounted as malignant haste To push my rival out of place and power.
But public use required she should be known；And since my oath was ta'en for public use， I broke the letter of it to keep the sense.
I spoke not then at first， but watched them well， Saw that they kept apart， no mischief done；And yet this day (though you should hate me for it)I came to tell you； found that you had gone， Ridden to the hills， she likewise： now， I thought， That surely she will speak； if not， then I：
Did she？ These monsters blazoned what they were， According to the coarseness of their kind， For thus I hear； and known at last (my work)And full of cowardice and guilty shame， I grant in her some sense of shame， she flies；And I remain on whom to wreak your rage， I， that have lent my life to build up yours， I that have wasted here health， wealth， and time， And talent， I--you know it--I will not boast：
Dismiss me， and I prophesy your plan， Divorced from my experience， will be chaff For every gust of chance， and men will say We did not know the real light， but chased The wisp that flickers where no foot can tread.'
She ceased： the Princess answered coldly， 'Good：
Your oath is broken： we dismiss you： go.
For this lost lamb (she pointed to the child)Our mind is changed： we take it to ourself.'
Thereat the Lady stretched a vulture throat， And shot from crooked lips a haggard smile.
'The plan was mine. I built the nest' she said 'To hatch the cuckoo. Rise！' and stooped to updrag Melissa： she， half on her mother propt， Half-drooping from her， turned her face， and cast A liquid look on Ida， full of prayer， Which melted Florian's fancy as she hung， A Niob隺n daughter， one arm out， Appealing to the bolts of Heaven； and while We gazed upon her came a little stir About the doors， and on a sudden rushed Among us， out of breath as one pursued， A woman-post in flying raiment. Fear Stared in her eyes， and chalked her face， and winged Her transit to the throne， whereby she fell Delivering sealed dispatches which the Head Took half-amazed， and in her lion's mood Tore open， silent we with blind surmise Regarding， while she read， till over brow And cheek and bosom brake the wrathful bloom As of some fire against a stormy cloud， When the wild peasant rights himself， the rick Flames， and his anger reddens in the heavens；For anger most it seemed， while now her breast， Beaten with some great passion at her heart， Palpitated， her hand shook， and we heard In the dead hush the papers that she held Rustle： at once the lost lamb at her feet Sent out a bitter bleating for its dam；The plaintive cry jarred on her ire； she crushed The scrolls together， made a sudden turn As if to speak， but， utterance failing her， She whirled them on to me， as who should say 'Read，' and I read--two letters--one her sire's.
'Fair daughter， when we sent the Prince your way， We knew not your ungracious laws， which learnt， We， conscious of what temper you are built， Came all in haste to hinder wrong， but fell Into his father's hands， who has this night， You lying close upon his territory， Slipt round and in the dark invested you， And here he keeps me hostage for his son.'
The second was my father's running thus：
'You have our son： touch not a hair of his head：
Render him up unscathed： give him your hand：
Cleave to your contract： though indeed we hear You hold the woman is the better man；A rampant heresy， such as if it spread Would make all women kick against their Lords Through all the world， and which might well deserve That we this night should pluck your palace down；And we will do it， unless you send us back Our son， on the instant， whole.'
So far I read；
And then stood up and spoke impetuously.
