Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/302

288 Truly, you wrong your sister ; she is young, Heedless, and wilful, that is all ; a touch Of the Ribera s spirit fired the lass. Don John was but her weapon of revenge Against the malice of our haughty matrons, Who hurled their icy shafts of scorn from heights Of dignity upon the artist s daughter.

I cannot think with you. In her demeanor, Her kindled cheek, her melting eye, was more Than sly revenge or cautious policy. If that was art, it overreached itself. Ere the night ended, I had blushed to see Slighting regards cast on my father’s child, And hear her name and his tossed lightly round.

Could you not read in such disparagement The envy of small natures ?

I had as lief Maria were to dance the tarantella