Sonnet LXXXI
SONNET LXXXI.
Cesare, poi che 'l traditor d' Egitto.
THE COUNTENANCE DOES NOT ALWAYS TRULY INDICATE THE HEART.
When Egypt's traitor Pompey's honour'd headTo Cæsar sent; then, records so relate,To shroud a gladness manifestly great,Some feigned tears the specious monarch shed:And, when misfortune her dark mantle spreadO'er Hannibal, and his afflicted state,He laugh'd 'midst those who wept their adverse fate,That rank despite to wreak defeat had bred.Thus doth the mind oft variously concealIts several passions by a different veil;Now with a countenance that's sad, now gay:So mirth and song if sometimes I employ,'Tis but to hide those sorrows that annoy,'Tis but to chase my amorous cares away.
Nott. Cæsar, when Egypt's cringing traitor broughtThe gory gift of Pompey's honour'd head,Check'd the full gladness of his instant thought,And specious tears of well-feign'd pity shed:And Hannibal, when adverse Fortune wroughtOn his afflicted empire evils dread,'Mid shamed and sorrowing friends, by laughter, soughtTo ease the anger at his heart that fed.Thus, as the mind its every feeling hides,Beneath an aspect contrary, the mien,Bright'ning with hope or charged with gloom, is seen.Thus ever if I sing, or smile betides,[Pg 98]The outward joy serves only to concealThe inner ail and anguish that I feel.
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