18. Lady Bloodstone


    (Sestinas)


    <hr>


    1. Murder


    The Lady Bloodstone woke up on her bed


    Of roses bright and beautiful, and yet


    The memory still haunts her with such thoughts


    As did bedevil ladies of her rank,


    For she was beautiful—therefore, to be


    Assailed by time and guilt for hidden crimes.


    And what, you ask, were Lady Bloodstone''s crimes?


    They were the crimes of passion on her bed,


    Whereon a thousand sweet devotions be


    Despoiled upon the lips of lust, and yet


    She still retains the honors of her rank


    By keeping secret all her brooding thoughts.


    And what, you ask, were Lady Bloodstone''s thoughts?


    They were the thoughts of someone else''s crimes:


    Her husband''s sweet caresses all were rank


    With all the perfumes of another''s bed,


    For she heard rumors of his whoring, yet


    She vowed in silent vengeance yet to be.


    But how, you ask, could Lady Bloodstone be


    So calculating in her vengeful thoughts?


    She proved herself a worthy actress, yet


    The thought of his unfaithful whoring crimes


    Bedeviled her love-making in his bed:


    She was a jealous wife of noble rank.


    She smelled the other woman''s perfume, rank


    With all the stench a jealous wife could be


    Forced to endure upon their squealing bed,


    For in her mind were such ungodly thoughts


    That even her bad husband''s many crimes


    Were small compared to hers enacted yet!


    Ah, there''s not hell like women scorned, and yet


    The proper duties of her lofty rank


    Helped her to hide th'' intentions of her crimes,


    For she was sly, a vixen yet to be


    Proven with evidence to glean her thoughts


    Upon her latest tryst upon his bed.


    Envoi


    And yet when night fell o''er their sleepless bed,


    She acted out the rank sins of her thoughts


    With vengeful knife to stop his crimes to be.


    2. Masquerade


    Now Lady Bloodstone pulled a masquerade


    Over the eyes of those who thought they knew


    Her well, her sobs and aspect full of loss


    And pain to anyone with eyes that see,


    Yet all her skill at method acting proved


    But an illusion! She had all the arts


    The Devil could have granted, all the arts


    To hide a truth most foul in masquerade,


    And all the arts of subtlety that proved


    Herself the prey of circumstance. Who knew


    Or could have known the the grisly truth? Or see


    Or could have seen through her well-acted loss?


    Ah, no one could distinguish ''twixt the loss


    Of guileless death from such ungodly arts.


    So for a time, she went to look and see


    The wench who was her husband''s masquerade


    During the night before his death. Who knew


    What thoughts were lurking in her head? She proved


    Herself a sly and worthy actress, proved


    Herself a saint in others'' eyes, whose loss


    Attracted sympathies from those who knew


    Her well, but then our Lady Bloodstone''s arts


    Were tested at this wench''s masquerade!


    This Lady Weston, she would meet and see


    Why her late spouse would leave her side to see


    This other woman. Lady Weston proved


    To be her equal in this masquerade,


    Attracting gazes were she went, the loss


    Of which aroused our lady''s bloody arts


    With similar intentions. Ah, who knew


    What devilries our Lady Bloodstone knew?


    Who could foresee the consequence? Or see


    Into the mind of someone skilled in arts


    Too subtle for a law court to have proved


    Lady Bloodstone guilty of a second loss


    While at another woman''s masquerade?


    Envoi


    Only one person knew her masquerade,


    Or could see through our lady''s cunning arts:


    Lady Weston proved it was a bloody loss!


    3. Detection


    During the masquerade, the Lady Weston


    Espied the Lady Bloodstone with her lorgnette *


    Within the crowd below, and when she faced


    This rival paramour of her late lover,


    She took the lady''s hand and kissed it well


    And, like her rival, played her own charade.


    And what, you ask, was Weston''s own charade?


    When her dear love had died, the Lady Weston


    Suspected Lady Bloodstone''s actions well


    Before she spied her rival with her lorgnette,


    For from the lips of her departed lover


    She knew the Lady Bloodstone was two-faced


    And sly and jealous of his trysts. Now faced


    With someone else''s consummate charade,


    She sought t'' avenge the death of her dear lover


    By talking with that lady. Lady Weston


    Talked to the Lady Bloodstone, placed her lorgnette


    Down by her side, and took her upstairs well


    Beyond the hearing of her guests and well


    Beyond the confines of the ballroom, faced


    With mirth. The Lady Weston dropped her lorgnette


    On the floor and dropped her own charade


    And questioned Lady Bloodstone. Lady Weston


    Now said, "I must confess, I had a lover,


    A sweet affair with someone''s husband, lover


    That he was, and we both knew him well."


    The Lady Bloodstone eyed the Lady Weston


    With horrified expression as she faced


    This very wench! She dropped her own charade


    And, with a spiteful glare, took up her lorgnette


    And took a blade from out of her own lorgnette


    And stabbed the blasted wench that took her lover


    As Lady Weston screamed out, "Your charade—"


    Attracting everyone''s attention well


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.In hearing, Lady Bloodstone now was faced


    With imminent detection! Lady Weston


    Envoi


    Took out the lorgnette knife as Lady Bloodstone faced


    The crowd, and Lady Weston said, "Know well,


    Lady Bloodstone, your husband''s lover! Your charade . . ."


    4. Pursuit


    The Lady Bloodstone ran away, found out


    At last, and sprinted through the darkened halls


    Of Lady Weston''s mansion, where her servants


    Attempted to prevent her wild escape,


    But she ran with the Devil''s speed that night,


    And right behind her flew her guilty conscience.


    In desperation, dogged by her own conscience,


    She sprinted through the corridors and out


    Beyond the entrance door towards the night,


    While all the guests within the winding halls


    Recoiled in awe at such a fleet escape,


    And everyone from guests to lowly servants


    Then crossed themselves. The once pursuing servants


    Returned with pallid faces, every conscience


    Reeling in shock a such a quick escape


    That they began to fill the halls throughout


    With tales of wicked witchcraft in the halls


    And out into the Devil''s lair of night.


    One servant said he heard her screams that night


    Resounding through the halls, and other servants


    Said that as they dogged her through the halls,


    They saw a wight pursue her guilty conscience **


    With premonitions of her doom, and out


    Beyond the gate where she made her escape,


    One guest said that he saw her wild escape


    On horseback, galloping like mad that night,


    And still some other guests have sworn it out


    That they had seen her husband''s ghost. Now servants


    And guests alike, to soothe their frantic conscience,


    Called up a Catholic priest to bless those halls


    With holy water, yet these very halls


    Still echoed with the screams of that escape,


    The screams of Lady Bloodstone''s guilty conscience


    Haunting that night and every other night


    Since then. Now all the superstitious servants


    Soon quitted their own stations and turned out


    Envoi


    Of those ungodly halls and, both in and out,


    Making their own escape, these frightened servants,


    Whose conscience tells them to beware the night.


    5. Overcast


    When Lady Bloodstone found herself within


    The confines of an alleyway unknown


    To her, she screamed and filled the night with terrors


    Unleashed like death knells through the air. The skies


    O''erhead were filled with misty overcast,


    And everything about her lurked and crept


    And capered in the shadows. As she crept


    Along, the tapping of her steps within


    The confines of the alley overcast


    Her thoughts with specters, demons, things unknown


    Upon the earth or in the daytime skies,


    That every sound enthralled her full of terrors


    Within this alley. Oh, what awful terrors


    There be that spied or peered and stalked or crept


    Within this purgatory under skies ***


    Clouded in black and gray? Somewhere within


    These parts, she thought, was something now unknown


    Yet still familiar in the overcast,


    Something that beckoned through the overcast


    Of her own guilty conscience. All the terrors


    Of her ungodly flight now fled, unknown


    Were all the things ahead of her that crept


    On half-heard footfalls, and from deep within


    Her heart there manifested in the skies


    Remorseful tears of rain come from those skies.


    Now dwelling on her sins, the overcast


    Without now matched the overcast within,


    While premonitions of unfounded terrors


    Capered and dashed and hid and stalked and crept


    Before her steps along this place unknown,


    Until she saw ahead a space unknown,


    Perchance an exit from these bitter skies


    Of guilt and pain. So off ran, then crept


    Out from the alley and the overcast,


    But now she stopped and viewed with mounting terrors


    Something ahead of her that moved within


    Envoi


    This foggy street unknown, something within


    These mists brought from her skies of looming terrors,


    Something that crept out through the overcast . . .


    6. Ghoul


    Out in the foggy street, there came the form


    Of Lady Bloodstone''s dear late husband, where


    His apparition glided on the street;


    Leaping for joy, she ran towards her husband


    But stopped upon a closer look, for he


    Had changed into monstrous shade—a ghoul!


    Yet in her addled thoughts, she saw no ghoul


    Or ghost or other kind of shade, his form


    Like that of his original, and he


    Himself seemed as alive, she thought, but where—


    Oh, where within this world—had her dear husband


    Been to without her company? What street


    Had he been walking to and fro? What street


    Had he been visiting? she thought. This ghoul,


    The moving image of her murdered husband,


    Then stopped and looked upon the standing form


    Of her before him, saying, "Where, oh where


    Have you gone to, my mistress?" But when he


    Stretched out his withered hand towards her, he


    Saw his lady back away along the street,


    But with placating words, he said, "Oh, where


    Do you think you are going, Lady-Ghoul?"


    The Lady said, "I do not know the form


    Of my late lover, my unfaithful husband


    "Whose actions soiled the honored name of husband!


    Who is this walking shade? Are you but he


    Whose hands caressed another woman''s form?


    Is this the very place—the very street—


    You took on your last tryst, you awful ghoul?


    Was this the very route you traveled where


    "You met your end before you reached her, where


    You walked with yearning heart and loins, oh husband?


    You''re nothing! You nothing but a ghoul!"


    She turned her steps away; but then t'' was he


    Who overtook her ere she reached the street


    And clapped her body in his arms, the form


    Envoi


    He''d loved in bed, where both took up one form,


    The husband taking her along the street


    And grinned at her. "A ghoul, you say?" said he.


    7. Canal


    "I am your ghoul, and you''re my murderer,"


    He said, "and now we both share equal parts


    In infamy!" And so he took her down


    The winding streets towards the waters edge,


    Where gondolas were floating by. Awaiting


    Inside one gondola, a gondolier


    Now waved him over; then the gondolier


    Stretched out his hand towards his murderer,


    Taking her hand within his own, awaiting


    Her husband to come in. The ghoulish parts


    Of his gray face now took her to the edge


    Of sanity, for in her mind, deep down


    Towards the beatings of her heart, deep down


    Into her loins, she saw the gondolier


    And husband shared a stark resemblance, edge


    For edge and line for line. The murderer


    Now put her hands upon her eyes, the parts


    Of which now cursed her mind with sight, awaiting


    Inside the darkness of her hands, awaiting


    Th'' inevitable truth she knew deep down


    Into the marrow of her bones and parts


    Unknown: her husband and the gondolier


    Were doppelg?nger brothers. "Murderer!"


    They said in unison. Her nerves on edge,


    She shifted her own body to the edge


    Close by the water, silently awaiting


    Her chance to take the plunge. "This murderer,


    You say," she said, "did she ever go down


    These thoroughfares to meet a gondolier


    At this late hour within these haunted parts?"


    Her husband said, "My mistress took these parts


    Alone at night towards the water''s edge


    And met my brother here, the gondolier,


    Yet you were stingy in your acts, awaiting


    Myself to come to you at night. So down


    Upon my brother''s lap, you murderer,


    Envoi


    "And sink your hips upon his parts, oh murderer!


    Just as you plunged your knife''s edge up and down,


    So shall the gondolier and I, where Hell''s awaiting!"


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    FINISH