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

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any 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 doppelgänger 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