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Summary 'Isabella, or the Pot of Basil' by Keats -Breakdown of Stanzas in Modern English $0.00

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Summary 'Isabella, or the Pot of Basil' by Keats -Breakdown of Stanzas in Modern English

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Studying John Keats? He’s a brilliant genius, but he’s also pretty tricky to understand! In this resource, you’ll find an analysis breakdown of ‘Isabella, or the Pot of Basil’ - the poem and a breakdown of stanzas in modern English. Do you need help with more than one text or subjec...

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  • Breakdown of stanzas in modern english
  • February 21, 2022
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  • 2021/2022
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THE POEM WITH A BREAKDOWN OF STANZAS
Stanzas 1 - 11

ISABELLA, OR THE POT OF BASIL MODERN ENGLISH TRANSLATION
A Story from Boccaccio

I.
FAIR Isabel, poor simple Isabel! I. Beautiful Isabel, poor simple Isabel! And Lorenzo
too, he was a young pilgrim under Love’s gaze!
Lorenzo, a young palmer in Love’s eye! This pair of lovers couldn’t live together in the
They could not in the self-same mansion dwell same house, without feeling intense emotions, and
love-sickness; they couldn’t sit at dinner without
Without some stir of heart, some malady;
feeling soothed by the company of each other’s
They could not sit at meals but feel how well presence nearby; they definitely couldn’t sleep in
It soothed each to be the other by; the same house without dreaming of each other,
and crying at night because they couldn’t be
They could not, sure, beneath the same roof sleep together.
But to each other dream, and nightly weep.


II.
With every morn their love grew tenderer, II. Every morning their love became more tender,
With every eve deeper and tenderer still; every evening it became tenderer still. Lorenzo
couldn’t move in the house, field or garden without
He might not in house, field, or garden stir, seeing her shape everywhere; his continuous
But her full shape would all his seeing fill; voice was more pleasing to her than than the noise
of trees or hidden streams; the music from her lute
And his continual voice was pleasanter
echoed his name, and she spoiled her half-done
To her, than noise of trees or hidden rill; sewing by writing his name there too.
Her lute-string gave an echo of his name,
She spoilt her half-done broidery with the same.


III.
He knew whose gentle hand was at the latch, III. He knew it was Isabella’s gentle hand at the
Before the door had given her to his eyes; latch before she opened the door and he saw her
with his eyes; from her bedroom window he would
And from her chamber-window he would catch
spot her beauty, with a sense sharper than a
Her beauty farther than the falcon spies; falcon’s. And as constant as her prayers he’d
And constant as her vespers would he watch, watch her, because her face was turned to the
same skies; and with sick longing he’d stay up all
Because her face was turn’d to the same skies; night just to hear her first steps in the morning
And with sick longing all the night outwear, upon the stairs of the house.
To hear her morning-step upon the stair.

,IV. IV. They spent the whole of May in this state of
A whole long month of May in this sad plight sadness and by the time June came they looked
more sickly. They spoke into their pillows:
Made their cheeks paler by the break of June: “Tomorrow, I will give in to my feelings, Tomorrow
“To morrow will I bow to my delight, I’ll ask my lady to start a relationship” (Lorenzo
“To-morrow will I ask my lady’s boon.” - speaking),
“O may I never see another night, “O, I’d rather die, Lorenzo, than hear you say that
“Lorenzo, if thy lips breathe not love’s tune.” - you don’t love me”. But sadly, he did nothing and
they carried on without sweetness in their lives for
So spake they to their pillows; but, alas,
days and days.
Honeyless days and days did he let pass;


V.
Until sweet Isabella’s untouch’d cheek
V. Finally, Isabella succumbed to love-sickness,
Fell sick within the rose’s just domain, and her cheeks stopped being rosy and became
Fell thin as a young mother’s, who doth seek pale. Her face grew thin like a young mother with a
sick child. Lorenzo said: “She’s so ill, I am not
By every lull to cool her infant’s pain:
supposed to confess my love, but I don’t care - I
“How ill she is,” said he, “I may not speak, will tell her plainly that I love her. If looks can show
“And yet I will, and tell my love all plain: love, I will drink her tears, and at the very least I
can hope that my presence by her side will stop
“If looks speak love-laws, I will drink her tears,
her from being worried or stressed.”
“And at the least ’twill startle off her cares.”


VI.
So said he one fair morning, and all day
VI. This is what he said one beautiful morning, and
His heart beat awfully against his side; all day it caused his heart to pound awfully. He
And to his heart he inwardly did pray prayed inwardly for his heart to give him the
For power to speak; but still the ruddy tide courage to speak; but the flow of his blood stopped
his voice and took away his confidence with every
Stifled his voice, and puls’d resolve away - pulse. He was passionate in his high belief that he
Fever’d his high conceit of such a bride, deserved such a bride as Isabella, but his feelings
Yet brought him to the meekness of a child: made him weak and passive like a child: What a
pity! When passion is both weak and wild at the
Alas! when passion is both meek and wild! same time!

VII.
So once more he had wak’d and anguished
A dreary night of love and misery, VII. So he woke again in distress from a dull night
If Isabel’s quick eye had not been wed of love and misery, Isabella’s keen eye noticed the
To every symbol on his forehead high; signs of sickness on his forehead; she saw it turn
pale and dead-looking, and then all of a sudden it
She saw it waxing very pale and dead, flushed; “Lorenzo!” she whispered tenderly - at that
And straight all flush’d; so, lisped tenderly, point she stopped and said no more - but he could
“Lorenzo!” - here she ceas’d her timid quest, tell by reading her tone and look that she loved him
back.
But in her tone and look he read the rest.

, VIII. VIII. “Oh Isabella, I can half tell that I could talk to
“O Isabella, I can half perceive you about my troubles, if you ever believed
anything - believe how much I love you, believe
That I may speak my grief into thine ear; how close my soul is to dying: I wouldn’t want to
If thou didst ever any thing believe, upset your hand by pressing it if you didn’t want me
Believe how I love thee, believe how near to, I wouldn’t make your eyes afraid by staring into
them; but at the same time I can’t live another night
My soul is to its doom: I would not grieve without confessing my love for you.”
Thy hand by unwelcome pressing, would not fear
Thine eyes by gazing; but I cannot live
Another night, and not my passion shrive.”


IX.
“Love! thou art leading me from wintry cold, IX. (Lorenzo speaking further) “My Love! You’re
leading me away from the cold of winter, Lady! You
Lady! thou leadest me to summer clime, lead me to summer weather, and I have to taste
And I must taste the blossoms that unfold the beautiful flowers that unfold under its sun in the
lovely morning”. As he said this, his previously
In its ripe warmth this gracious morning time.”
timid lips became brave and poetic, connecting
So said, his erewhile timid lips grew bold, with Isabella’s in dewy rhymes, they felt bliss and
And poesied with hers in dewy rhyme: happiness grow like a lusty flower tended by the
warmth of June.
Great bliss was with them, and great happiness
Grew, like a lusty flower in June’s caress.


X
Parting they seem’d to tread upon the air, X. When they separated, it was like they walked on
air, and they resembled twin roses being blown
Twin roses by the zephyr blown apart apart by the wind; this made their meetings even
Only to meet again more close, and share closer and they shared the inward scents of each
The inward fragrance of each other’s heart. other’s heart. She went to her bedroom and sang
a small song about delicious love and how she had
She, to her chamber gone, a ditty fair been struck by Cupid’s honeyed arrow. He went up
Sang, of delicious love and honey’d dart; a hill to the west, stepping lightly and full of joy, to
He with light steps went up a western hill, say goodbye to the setting sun.

And bade the sun farewell, and joy’d his fill.


XI
All close they met again, before the dusk XI. They met closely again before night time had
taken its pleasant covering from the stars. They
Had taken from the stars its pleasant veil, met closely every evening, before night time
All close they met, all eves, before the dusk removed the pleasant sky that hid the stars. They
Had taken from the stars its pleasant veil, sat close together in a shady, secret place full of
hyacinth flowers and musk, no one knew they were
Close in a bower of hyacinth and musk, there and they were free from being found out. Ah!
Unknown of any, free from whispering tale. It would have been better if it had been like this
Ah! better had it been for ever so, forever, than if listening ears had taken pleasure
from their sadness.
Than idle ears should pleasure in their woe.

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