21615061506In him the painter labored with his skill

15071507To hide deceit and give the harmless show

15081508An humble gait, calm looks, eyes wailing still,

15091509A brow unbent that seemed to welcome woe,

15101510Cheeks neither red nor pale but mingled so

15111511That blushing red no guilty instance gave,

15121512Nor ashy pale the fear that false hearts have.

21715131513But, like a constant and confirmèd devil,

15141514He entertained a show so seeming just,

15151515And therein so ensconced his secret evil

15161516That jealousy itself could not mistrust

15171517False creeping craft and perjury should thrust

15181518Into so bright a day such black-faced storms,

15191519Or blot with hell-born sin such saintlike forms.

21815201520The well-skilled workman this mild image drew

15211521For perjured Sinon, whose enchanting story

15221522The credulous old Priam after slew;

15231523Whose words like wildfire burnt the shining glory

15241524Of rich-built Ilion, that the skies were sorry,

15251525And little stars shot from their fixèd places

15261526When their glass fell wherein they viewed their faces.

21915271527This picture she advisedly perused,

15281528And chid the painter for his wondrous skill,

15291529Saying some shape in Sinon's was abused,

15301530So fair a form lodged not a mind so ill.

15311531And still on him she gazed, and gazing still,

15321532Such signs of truth in his plain face she spied

15331533That she concludes the picture was belied.

22015341534"It cannot be," quoth she, "that so much guile" --

15351535She would have said "can lurk in such a look,"

15361536But Tarquin's shape came in her mind the while,

15371537And from her tongue "can lurk" from "cannot" took.

15381538"It cannot be" she in that sense forsook,

15391539And turned it thus: "It cannot be, I find,

15401540But such a face should bear a wicked mind.