18. Lady Bloodstone

  (Sestinas)

  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

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  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!"

  FINISH