Book 4 — THE PLEASING HISTORY OF ALBINO AND BELLAMA (continued 2)

Then a new project did he get on's brain, And sheared the downy moss from his smooth chin, Intending to be one o' th' virgin-train, Like Jupiter, husked in a female skin: 2090But that he feared religion could not bridle His active heat 'twixt linen to be idle.

He thought his breaking voice would him betray (Unless he said he ever had a cold), He feared the curtsey and the female play, Or that his face would make him seem too old. But above all he fear'd he should not lock His legs within the compass of a smock.

In costly vestures he would be arrayed Of high descent, and fearing lest his sire 2100Would force him to an hated pillow, strayed With them to teen the holy vestal fire. He would be nobly born, not out of pride, But to be sheeted by Bellama's side.

He had no treasure, but would promise fair, That, settled there, he should be fed in state, Hoping to win the porter with kind air, That with Bellama he might thread the gate. He all would venture: and upon this plot Would place his fortunes, and the Gordian knot.

2110In such accoutrement he veilèd was, That to himself Albino was not known. He lookèd for Albino's face i' th' glass; But nothing of himself t' himself was shown. Each way a maid, enriched with special grace, As though he had unflow'r'd Adonis' face.

He styl'd himself Felice, only child, To him who at that time was Folco's duke; And was so like to her whom he was styled That she could scarcely say 'twas not her look. 2120For what's of Issa and her picture writ Was found in them, they tasked the poet's wit.

Unto this virgin-cage she fast did pace, And, knocking at the gate, the porter came, Who, seeing riches on her back and face, With humble voice desired to know her name. 'My name (good friend),' quoth she, 'Felice is, I come to taste your choice monastic bliss.'

'Madam,' Avaro said, 'our rubbish stone With cement join'd shall precious straight be made, 2130In that they shall ensphere so fair an one.' Felice, smiling at the porter, said, 'Hath time with iron jaws eat out this part Which now these masons do repair by art?'

And truth it was, Felice, Folco's heir, Flying the disaster of an hated tede, Couched in disguises at a cottage bare (But how? when? where? task not my amorous lede). So that Pazzella's faith writ on her brow The noble treasures of Felice's vow.

2140'Not time it was, but an unhappy hour' The porter said 'we had a virtuous fair, Daughter unto a man of mighty power, So like yourself I think you sisters are,' (How largely flatt'ry has dispersed its song That it does oil and smooth a porter's tongue!)

'Bellama hight by her uncourteous sire, Fetched hence, who, when my lady did deny, Begirt our holy walls with sulphur-fire, And summoned harnessed men which close did lie. 2150They with their leaden worlds at us did play And frighted (as you see) these stones away.'

Felice, knowing that her adamant, Th' impulsive cause of this her virgin-vow, Was vanished thence, and gleams of joy did want And wanning sorrow revelled on her brow. Scarce could she speak and every jointing trembled, Yet feared the porter, and her fear dissembled.

Pazzella and the virgins her esteemed, Seeing her feature and unequalled grace, 2160Before they knew his parentage or deemed He was descended from high Folco's race. But, knowing that, their joys did swell so high, That grief for sorrow slinked aside to cry.

But ere the next day's sun to let out day Night's ebon box unlocked, she did not brook To hear their private whispers, talk, and pray, Erect the host, and kiss a gilded book. For, her, Bellama has possessèd solely, So that their water could not make her holy.

2170Instead of 'Virgin-mother' she would say, 'My dearest lady, hear my sad complaint.' Nor to she-saints would she devoutly pray, 'Cause none but her Bellama was a saint. Unto Lorretta, as Bellam', she swears: And calls their holy water but her tears.

She wond'red oft how her Bellama did Two years continue in this hated cell; And in her thoughts she oftentimes her chid, For dwelling where but formal good does dwell, 2180Since in her absence she could scarce abide To sojourn here a double eventide.

Her brains acquainted was no whit with sloth, But plotted how she might escape that jail: And to this end she vowed her virgin-oath Should for her quick returning put in bail; She thought her breach of virgin-oath no sin Because she only wore the formal skin.

She missed, in ransacking her cabinet, A precious jewel, far exceeding rare, 2190Which on her brow the lady duchess set, As a true pledge of her indulgent care: Far richer than that pearl which Egypt's queen Quaffed to her Mark, dissolved in liquor keen.

But for all this a curious fit of man Did force her, for assay, to enter in To see if fasting did their rosies wan, Or folly led not in the Paphian sin, Thinking her wit could manumise her straight From that lank cloister by some nimble sleight.

2200This she pretended to have lost as she (Fainted with fears, and with her travels tired) In the cool shade of a well-hairèd tree Threw water on her joints with labour fired. For heavens parch the air with hotter rays When with his flaming tongue the dogstar bays.

'Madam,' quoth she, with feignèd tears and sigh, 'Grant me your licence to go seek my gem, The place of my reposure is but nigh'; Swore by those fires that did enlighten them, 2210By her virginity and virgin-vow, Return ere time could pace a triple now.

Quoth Piazella, 'I will send a maid To seek your jewel out with studied care, Direct her to the shade wherein you stayed, For you forbidden are the common air. Our gardens, beautified with Maya's glee, Your farthest journey must and ought to be.'

She urged again, but all in vain she asked; The prioress remembered still the earl, 2220And feared Felice his departure masked, Under pretence of seeking for a pearl. And more suspicious thoughts unto her came 'Cause she so often kissed Bellama's name.

She, seeing that this plot did want a stamp, To make it current pass like lawful coins, Feared her departure from this lanky camp, And vowed to try the virgin's skill at foins. Yet, ere she would attempt that amorous play, She would attempt escapes some other way.

2230She viewed the casements, and did boldly wrench, With courage masculine, the squarèd bars: But they did scorn the vigour of a wench, Like sturdy oaks which slight the windy jars. Nay more, deep waters did begirt them round, That from the glass he could not see the ground.

Then on the porter did she kindly smile, And by full tale gave free respects to him; Thinking to gull Avaro by this wile, Joinèd with language oiled, perfumed, and trim, 2240Quoth she, 'Thy trust, and skill I must employ And for thy pains thou shalt have treasures, boy.'

The greedy porter, like a goshawk, seized With griping talons on this pheasant cock, 'Madam', says he, 'my skill is not diseased, Nor dwells dissembling with the honest frock. Disclose your secrets, and be sure if man Can do you service, then Avaro can.'

Felice then, as prologue to her suit, Gave him a purse full fraught with pseudo-gold; 2250Told him her bounty brought no worser fruit If in th' achievement he'd be true and bold. 'Thou must, some evening, let me pass the gates And straggle half a mile to gather dates.'

'Madam, I'll do 't: it is a small request, Since you do merit better at my hand. If fortune be propitious to my best. You on the common shore this night I'll land My hands have eyes and only what they see Will they believe—give me my minted fee.'

2260Felice then plucked out a silken purse, Great, and as musical as th' other was, Pretending it was stuffed with metal curse, When 't only was with circled ragges of glass; Which purposely she did with di'monds cut, To gull the porter's hopes and fill his gut.

'Heavens augment your store, madam,' quoth he, 'I'll wait for you at the middle age of night; Come to my lodge and softly call for me.' This handsome cheat Felice did delight. 2270To cozen the deceivers is no fraud, To use a pimp, and cheat a rusty bawd.

She scarcely knew what letters spellèd grief, For all her thoughts with regal crowns were wreathed, Yet 'mongst them all Bellama ruled as chief. At time of rest her body she unsheathed, And housed within the linen walls her limbs, Till night and sleep did their quick tapers dim.

Avaro (when day's sister's misty fog Had poppèd out Apollo's searching eye, 2280And gen'ral silence human tongues did clog Locking all senses up with lethargy) Stepp'd to his purses, and began to think How he should order his belovèd chink.

He'd hang his lodge with arras weaved with gold That his successor there might sleep in state, Or else if some revenues would be sold He'd give them Darwey, bought at any rate That all the nuns with prayers and holy names Might fetch his soul from out the purging flames.

2290'I'll mend highways, or hospitals repair, Else build a college, and endow 't with mines.' Thus did he build his castles in the air For all's not cash that jingles, gold that shines; His glassy coin [must] leap out of the mint Ere on his brow the stamp did current print.

Thus was he gull'd, as once a king of France Paid a French monsieur for a prancing steed— Gave him a purse whose richness did enhance Th' enclosèd gem, supposed a noble meed, 2300But when for golden mountains he did gape, He oped the purse, and only found a rape.

'Oh! what full anger redded o'er his looks! What tides of rage and fury swelled his spleen! He curseth her with candles, bells, and books; And vowed ere long on her to wreak his teen. 'Ah me!' quoth he, 'such brittle things are lasses Which one poor letter changeth unto glasses.'

Felice, now perceiving all was quiet, Hearing no noise, unless a belly-blast 2310Which might proceed from an unwholesome diet, Tied her apparel on with nimble haste, And, coming to the lodge, with knuckle knock She strove to summon out the lazy frock.

But the grim Tartar was so soundly lulled, Without a dram of opium, steeped in ale— Tirèd with vexing that he was so gulled— That all Felice's rappings naught avail; Till, vexèd with demurs she knock'd so loud, It raised a thunder like a breaking cloud.

2320Just at that moment did Pazzell' awake From an affrighting dream, wherein she saw A dreadful lion her Felice take, And tear her body with his sharp'ned paw; And hearing this shrill noise, fear said 'twas true, Danger did threaten her monastic crew.

Her frosted limbs she heavèd out of bed, And shelled her body in her night-apparel, Arming her hands with pistols stuffed with lead, Which anger firing, with the air did quarrel, 2330And, groping in the dark, her foot did slip, Which out o' th' barrels made the bullets skip.

Felice, at that thunder-clap amazed, With haste retired from the porter's cell, And meeting her, on one another gazed. The porter, starting up, did ring the bell, The virgins shrieked, which all made murmurs shrill Like Irish hubbubs in pursuit of ill.

When reason somewhat had becalmed their rage, The abbotess Felice sharply checked. 2340'Madam,' says she, 'I only came t' assuage Intestine heats which all my body decked In scarlet dye; and being much appalled, With frisking fairies, I the porter called.'

'Go, go, you are a wanton girl,' quoth she, 'That fain would tempt my porter unto folly.' 'Madam,' Felice said, 'you injure me. Sure, if lascivious I had been so jolly, I might have met with many men more able, Before I did invest myself with sable.'

2350'Oh madam! madam!' mad Avaro cried, 'Why do you think she could o'ercome your frock? I ne'er did yield, yet have been often tried; My courage hath withstood a greater shock. Yet sure she would—she would have passed the gates; The reason why, forsooth, to gather dates.

I am afraid your dukedom-girl does long Not for the porter, he is out of date; But for an oily cavalier that 's strong, May teach her virginship a mother's fate. 2360Madam, look well; see if you miss no glass, I'm sure with brittle coin she gulled an ass.'

Then told the story: Piazzella fretted, 'This is the jewel which you would have sought When in all haste from hence you would have jetted! What your intendments were my wisdom thought, I'll have no gadders, and t' allay your heat I have a diet will prevent a sweat.'

In a retired room she locked her up, Devoid of lustful mates with her to play; 2370Allowed her pulse, and juice of clouds to sup, And bade her scores of Ave Maries say. Three artificial days she lodgèd there, Where every day to her did seem a year.

When she had paid this penance for her crime (Which in her judgement was accounted bad), She was again amongst the virgins prime, On promise that she would not henceforth gad. Yet still she plotted, but where'er she went, The angry destines thwarted her intent.

2380Then, from Bellam' since walls did her encell, She thought t' employ her talent to the best. One of the virgins had some vogliarell, And earnestly desir'd with her to rest. Who ere the morn did Piacinto sing, And wore her blushes on her rubied ring.

Next night she chose another, then another; Her curious palate so to novels stood, That every one had hope to be a mother, And near of kin, united in one blood. 2390But yet, alas! this pleasure lasted not: Their virgin-girdles could not keep their knot.

Not many fortnights after they had took These physic-potions from their doctor's reins, One told her folly by her meagre look, Another had more blue than on her veins, Others were qualmish, and another longs: All spake their pleasures, yet all held their tongues.

One long'd for citrons, and another grapes, That grew on Alps' steep height, others for peaches; 2400One strangely did desire the tails of apes Steepèd in juice of myrtles, holms, and beeches. Some palates must be fed with implumed quails, And nothing must approach this tongue but rails.

Some longed for crayfish, shrimps, cods, plaice, and oysters; One for a lemon that doth grow on thorns; Another longeth for some blood of roisters, Spiced with the scrapings of pale Cynthia's horns; One on the bosom of the matron skips, And spite of her full nose did gnaw her lips;

2410One bade them fill an orc of Bacchus water, Her thirsty soul she said would drain a tun; One from her window bids a poor translator Cut her a cantle of the gaudy sun; But above all I like that witty girl, Which longed to feed upon a glorrah earl.

The jealous matron with suspicious eye Did read their common ill in every face; Espied the breach of their virginity, And feared a plantage with an infant race. 2420Yet still suppressed her knowledge, till at last Their heaving bellies kissed their thick'ned waist.

She then, with friendly summonings, did call The grave lord abbot and his smooth-chin race; Who, coachèd, came unto the virgin-hall, But all the rabble through the vault did pace. Arrivèd here, she cookèd dainty cates To please the abbot and his tempo-pates.

So called a council 'bout her quondam maids— Each one admiring who durst be so bold, 2430Since none had entrance, nor the virgins strayed, And for the porter he was known too cold. The prior feared lest one of his square caps Should guilty be of those upheaving laps.

It was decreed that they all should be Shrived, being sejoinèd from each other's ken; But, ere that time, the teemers did decree What answer to return the shriving men. Felice did instruct them to deny That she gave birth unto their pregnancy.

2440But they should say, and to that saying seal, With strong asseverations that 'Into Our fast-locked room a youthful blade did steal, And with the best of wooing did us woo. Our cases are the same with Merlin's mother: We think our lover was his father's brother.

'Twas one man's act, or, clothed with human shape, He was angelical; and this we thought Because there was no semblance of a rape. We gave him our assent as soon as sought. 2450We judged unmaiding better in the dark Than, Daphne-like, an husking o'er with bark.'

The abbot at this news did much rejoice, Since with a kind aspect the Virgin Lady, 2460Viewing this nunn'ry, did ordain this choice, And for the issue did appoint this daddy. They shall be prophets, priests of high renown, And virgins which shall keep their bellies down.

Provide them childbed linen, mantles, swaddles, Rockers and nurses, all officious shes, With rattles, corals, little cars, and cradles, And give them beads to wait upon their knees. Rome's high arch-vicar shall a testate be To the first-born whom Nature makes a he.

2470Take pens, and smooth-strain anthems write in bays, Make new orisons unto all the saints, And to Lucina chant invoking lays, To move her pity these young mothers' plaints; Say her fair temple need not fear the flame, Whilst here she wins her an eternal fame.

Felice smiled to see their studied care, To foster whom she at her pleasure got. But Piazzella, starting from her chair, Callèd Felice to survey her knot, 2480And finding it as at the first 'twas tied, 'How 'scapèd you this goddy sire?' she cried.

'Madam,' quoth he—Felice, 'I confess I was a party in those spruce delights; But Nature curseth some with barrenness, As (I have heard) Albertus Magnus writes. So that though my desires were full as big, I was not heavèd with that curtain jig!

Reason fortasse's on her words did stamp, Which did entruth them (though they were but squibs). 2490This done, the prior did remove his camp, And all the friars, with hemp-girdled ribs, All great with expectation, and as fain Would be delivered as the full-flanked train.

They sung canzones ere the sun could rise, And Ave-Maries out of number said, Lucina wond'red at this strange disguise, That nuns and monks to her devoutly prayed. All beads were rattled, and all saints invoked, Some squealed, some tenored, and some hoarsely croaked.

2500With this conceit, Felice frolic grew, And sported bravely in the silent hours. Her bed-mates call'd her Angel; yet none knew That 'twas Albino which had cropped their flowers. But, though they revelled in the night, the day Threw hailstorms on their lust to chill their play.

Yet had their pleasure not a grandsire life, For tattling slumbers did their joys untone. 'You vowed, Felice, I should be your wife,' Says Cloe, 'ere you loosed my virgin-zone, 2510But ah!' so waked, and feared her vocal slumber Would from her eyelids force a Trent and Humber.

Says Phill', 'Felice, had I known at first You only wore the name of Folco's daughter, I would have suff'red an untamèd thirst Ere lust had brought mine honour unto slaughter, But oh——' and, starting up, she feared her dream Would ere 'twas long obscure joy's mirthful gleam.

'Well, well,' says Floris, ''tis an happy change To loose mine honour for an angel-mate, 2520But angels will not house in such a grange: This is the offspring of Felice's pate. But ah——' so sighed, and sighing causèd fears Lest her plump rosies should be ploughed with tears.

Yet, you must know, the virgins did not use To blab their private actions in a dream, But that the cunning matron did infuse Some atoms of the Quiris into cream; And, ere they were enclosed in Somnus' arms, She drenched their fancies in these liquid charms.

2530Then, with unsealèd eyes, she made her ears Keep privy watch to intercept their talk: Yet would have washed her knowledge out with tears, And wished it written in her mind with chalk. One while she thanked the God of slumber, then, Her curses threw him down to Pluto's den.

But when Aurora, in her tissue vest, Mantled with blushes, rose from Tithon's side, And through a casement of th' adorèd east Sent Phosphorus to usher in her pride— 2540Ere Phoebus our horizon did array With silver glitter of the blooming day—

She snatched her termers from the sweet embrace, And golden fetters of death's elder brother, Bidding them hence those deading slumbers chase T' implore the favour of the Virgin-mother. They starting up with more than common speed, Each shelled her body in her modest weed.

So called to chapel those whose pregnant wombs The angel's pills had heaved above their waists, 2550Like to a surfeit ta'en of Hybla's combs, When we are too indulgent to our tastes. But left Felice out to cut or sew, Or to embroider with the lanky crew.

Which made a sudden faintness loose each part, And every joint was like an aspen leaf; Her rosy twins retired to her heart, Her looks were coloured like a sunburnt sheaf, As the stiff bristles of an aged boar Were her smooth locks, which o'er her cheeks she wore

2560And juster cause had none than she to fear, For as from quiet slumber she awoke She heard the ptisick pick Pazzella's ear That she had knowledge of what Floris spoke. And now she doubted all would come to th' scanning Their longing, swelling and their sudden wanning.

The virgins wondered at Felice's change, To see her eyes fix'd in a white-limed wall; Each feared herself, and each conceived 'twas strange Lest the disease was epidemical:— 2570That Merlin's uncle changed Felice's hue, And streaked their temples with a purple blue.

But leave her sighing with these sterile dames, We'll crowd into the house of sacred vows Where consciousness, begetting female shames, Spread scarlet carpets on their cheeks and brows. They looked, and blushed, and glanced on one another: Each cursed the minute which did dub her mother.

The holy brethren, through the mouldy pipe, At that same time did unexpected come, 2580To know if th' goddy issue yet was ripe To give adieu unto their skin-sealed home. But viewing still their wombs, with zealous hands, They prayed Lucina to untie their bands.

Their chantings dead, the abbotess began; 'Brethren, you see what sad misfortune haps Unto my virgins by the oil of man, Witness the heaving of their spongy paps. We of an angel dreamed, but if he was He shall hereafter for an evil pass.

2590'I made their slumbers vocal, so they told 'Twas Folco's duke's supposèd daughter's work. Larved with that name, it seems some roister bold Them to unvirgin cunningly did lurk. But since 'tis so, the proverb shall stand good, Tart sauces must be mixed with luscious food.

I knew him to be wanton, and to chill The raging heat of his unbridled lust, I doomed him three days' penance, judged an ill Would make him sapless as the summer's dust. 2600But since that failed, days shall be chang'd to years, Minutes to months, till paid his tribute tears.

I'll try if grief will drain his melting reins, And hang a crutch upon his able back; If sorrow will unblood his swelling veins And make his sinews, shrunk with famine, crack. I'll make a purgatory, where with hunger, Frost, flame, and snow, I'll tame my virgin-monger.

I'll give command a dungeon shall be made, To whose close womb the sun shall never pry, 2610Nor Cynthia dare to peep: for gloomy shade Like cloudy night shall purblind every eye: Bare measure four-foot broad; and for that height 'T shall make him by constraint, not court, lie slight.

A bedstead hewn out of the craggy rock, Not arched with cedar wainscot, knobbed with gold; His bed no shrinker, but a sturdy flock, Swans shall not be deplumed his limbs t'infold. Nor curtained with the travails of the loom Of poor Arachne, ere she had her doom.

2620I will not spend the ransom of a crown For curious dainties to delight his taste. I'll fetch no fowls from off the Parthian down, Or Phaenicopter for luxurious waste. I will no mullet from Corsica take, Oysters from Circe's or the Lucrine lake.

I will allow him pottage, thicked with bran, Of barley-meal a choenix every day, A sovereign diet for a frolic man That is affected with the Paphian play. 2630And lest his stomach should too chol'ric grow, I will afford him some congealed snow.'

The bald-pate crew this penance well approved, And, in a trice, all things she ready got. So well she stirred her stumps (as it behoved) She being hatcher of this starving plot. This done, with friendly words and courteous air, She called Felice to her house of prayer.

'It suits not with your greatness, madam fair, Being sole daughter to so great a man, 2640To lodge with those which your inferiors are, As much as is an inch unto a span, And I'm afraid the Duke will fume and swear, Should but your lodging step into his ear.'

'Madam,' quoth she, 'you harbour needless fears. Goodness, not greatness, differenceth maids. My father's no tobacconist; and swears In point of honour like our scarlet blades. And, by my faith, it more contenteth me To sheet with maidens though of mean degree.

2650I am surchargèd with the black-hued choler, Which strikes my fancy with most ugly shapes. I durst not rest a-darkness for a dolour, Without a pillow-friend to scare those apes: Let Cloe with conceits my spirits wing, Or melancholy will my requiem sing.'

'You shall,' says she, 'have Sesamoidesse. For all entreats are of too dull a print.

We must respect your father's worthiness, His honour must your love and passions stint, 2660And your own worth must highly be regarded, How shall I else expect to be rewarded?'

Then did she take her by the tender hand, And led her to her grot in princely state. She feared not much, nor did her will withstand, Judging divorcement was her harshest fate; But when she saw the entrance was so narrow A sudden fear did eat up all her marrow.

Pazzella, viewing her supposèd lass, Repented her of her intended ills; 2670But injuries engraven are on brass, And women's jointures are to have their wills. And lest remorse should chill her angry mood, Fuel was added by the brotherhood.

'Then,' says she, 'madam, you behold the cage Which I preparèd for your honour's good, Where you may spend the autumn of your age. Till age and winter have congealed your blood. You may retire to ease: for envy can Nor dares to say you're not an able man.

2680When twice ten circled snakes are crawled away, You shall enjoy companions masculine, To give instructions in that youthful play Is fed with Ceres and the god of wine. And, if my virgins shall hereafter be Lascivious given, I will send for thee.'

Into this coven was Felice thrust, With bars and locks the entrance sealèd fast, Now must he pay a dear rate for his lust, His curtain-vezzo, and the coral taste. 2690Sure his repentance will be full as dear As the philosopher's non tanti were.

Ah, foppish monk! did not Bellama's 'no' Give thee a warning-piece presaging danger, But thou must headlong rush upon thy woe? Happy's that man which is to lust a stranger! If this of dalliance is the constant fee, Let them d——dally that do list, for me.

Here, when the barking star his sceptre waved, When in our clime we feel an Ethiope's heat, 2700An undervault the subtil matron paved, With fire and flame to force a constant sweat, That, as from flowers hot limbecks water 'still, So by this stove from him sweat-currents drill.

Then, for the winter season she provided A melting cloud full fraught with feath'red rain (Whose curious art the air-borne clouds derided), Which through some oillet holes might passage gain. His cabin should have been, like Alps' cold height, Mantled and strewèd o'er with winter's white.

2710And 'twas so dark, I cannot see to write. Nay, at a nonplus it all pencils sets. 'Twas hell's epitome, the cage of night, Walled in with pitch and roofed o'er with jets. The lynx at midday here would wish for day, And cats without a torch must grope their way.

But leave him labyrinthed and thus distressed, And see Bellama, and examine how She brooks the absence of her bosom-guest, If discontent does revel on her brow. 2720It does: for why, she dreams and never sleeps, She feeds and fats not, laughs, but ever weeps.

'Disaster hangs upon Albino gyves,' Says she, 'else Envy keeps him prisoner, Or a new bull does interdict them wives, So seals the lips of my petitioner. Else the smirk knave is so devout in pray'r, He has no time to kiss the common air.

But does he love? or is 't a fit of mirth, Which, like to children's fancies, soon expire 2730Ere language or employment give them birth, Flashing affections, aged like thunder-fire? His eyes shot Cupids at my yielding heart, But his firm breast repelled my feeble dart.

Perchance he judged my forwardness to love, By too much court'sy, and my frequent glances. So thought in jest my willingness to prove, Not with that sober passion which entrances; But with lip-love, which to the heart ne'er sinks, And paper-vows which take their birth from inks.

2740But stay: does greatness use to be denied? Beauty and bravery command a grant. Yet might my looks and carriage plumed with pride His humble and untow'ring spirit daunt. Daunt? no: his soul's a temper most divine, Dares soar aloft to kiss the sun's near shine.

Then love he does: but must this action, woo, Be tied by patent only unto men? Some unfrequented paths of love I'll go, And in some riddles court him by my pen. 2750Yet first to th' abbey I'll dispatch a post, To make inquiry where my monk doth host.'

The merchant is not with desires so big, When as he ploughs the sea for Indian mines; With slower steps the sons of Bacchus trig To sack-shops for the French and Spanish wines; Than she to Tagus bids her servant go To Croftfull Abbey where her wishes grow.

Gone is the messenger: but small success Waits on his travels, for he back returns 2760With, 'Madam, where Albino's none can guess. They think his ashes are enclosed in urns. For time, say they, has counted fortnights many, Since his choice feature object was to any.'

This answer shot an hailstorm at her heart, Whose sudden chillness jellied all her blood, Sh' applièd Holco to unscrew the dart, But her assayments brought her little good. For, but Albino, none can cure her ill, Not physic potions, or the druggard's skill.

2770'Ah me! has Fate my dear Albino ta'en? Then farewell music, and you sprucing trade; Either my tears shall body him again, Or send my ghost to wait upon his shade. For she is judged a light unconstant lover, Whose flame the ashes of neglect can cover.'

Have you beheld how, when the moors and marsh Belch vapours to blemish bright Titan's eye, They with his rays wage conflicts long and harsh, Confining them unto their proper sky 2780(Bribèd perchance by envious night to wrap Day and his champion in his sooty lap).

So that to us appears nor sun nor day, And only faith persuades us there is both, Till day and sun call in each straggling ray, And force a passage, spite of fume and froth: Yet then the day but newly seems to dawn, And o'er the sun a veil of cypress drawn.

Just so diseasing sorrow, armed with tears, Sighs, and black melancholy veiled her face; 2790So that no ray of loveliness appears, And only faith persuades us she has grace. Her eyes retired, her double blush was wanned, Her locks dissevered, and her lilies tanned.

And as, in her which arted looks does wear, Men look for nature's steps, and cannot trace her; Since she, by nature nothing less than fair, Hath purchased from the shops such worth to grace her; Though foul, now fair and sleek, though age did plough And made long furrows in her cheek and brow.

2800So knowledge here was in a maze: the eye, That knew Bellama, did Bellama seek, And, looking on her, nothing could descry Spake her Bellama, or in eye or cheek. To love's harsh laws she gave such constant duty, Sh'ad only left an anagram of beauty.

She threw herself upon her couch of ease, And marshalled all her thoughts in just arrays; This brought small comfort, that did hardly please, And in that thought despair the sceptre sways. 2810Yet thought she not death could a period set, Unless he did some strange advantage get.

'He's young and lusty: every vein does swell With aqua-vitae, coral juice of life; His skill in magic else can frame a spell To distance meagre death and Atrop's knife. Yet love gives birth to fear: I'll send to search The lion's flinty bed, and vulture's perch.

I and my woman will attend the quest, Veiled in disguises of some country lasses; 2820No state-distinction, for my humble breast Shall leave all pride with silks, perfumes, and glasses; And, if with non inventus we return, I'll Venus' witchcraft hate and Cupid spurn.'

When as the sovereign of the day had drawn A veil of brightness o'er the twinkling lamps, And threw on Cynthia's brow a double lawn, Clearing the welkin from benighting damps, They in the habits of a milking maid (All but skin-linen) did their beauties shade.

2830And in these coarse attires they hasted out To seek Albino through each wood and plain, Whom we will leave to pace the world about And see Felice, wet with eye-lid rain, Whose bondage was the greater, since despair Blasted all hopes which promised her the air.

The brazen bull, strappado, or the rack, The faggot-torture, and the piked barrell, Balanced with his, degrees of sorrow lack: 'Tis with a bulrush to decide a quarrel. 2840The famine wherewithal the Thracian knight Was sent to Pluto wants a little weight.

He that stole fire fro' th' chariot of the Sun, Whose liver's vulture-gnawn at Caucasus; He that the counsels of the gods unspun, Like wanton's eyes, stone-rolling Sisyphus; Hold best proportion with these sharp'ned woes, Which stern misfortune on Felice throws.

She, that was glutted with most curious cates, Had every pleasure to content her lust, 2850Who had command o'er Fortune and the Fates, Now sups up pulse and gnaws a fleecèd crust. She that had many girls is now alone, And of so many cannot compass one.

Had I a fancy steeped in sorrow's brine, Invention witty in the threnes of woe; Could sad experience dictate every line, A dearth of words would to my muse say 'No'. I may as well go fathom all the spheres As measure her disasters, count her tears.

2860Oft on remembrance of that harmless bliss, Which (copèd) she enjoyed, her thoughts would feed, Oft on Bellama's beauty, touch and kiss, Till strucken dead with thought of present need. Then would she raise her thoughts, and hope for day, And starting up from silence boldly say:

'Despite of Envy's vipers, tricks, and wiles, My cradle-playmate, Mirth, I'll ne'er forsake, But taste Sardinian herbs shall raise up smiles, Though I was wafting o'er the Stygian lake. 2870Tortures shall ne'er unman me; but I'll be Albino, Malice, 'spite of her and thee.

Delays ofttimes, from time's secluded parts, Bring help to helpless not expecting aid; Some of the gods will pity these my smarts, Not suffer them to whet the sexton's spade. Or if the gods—'midst flames then scorpion-like I'll gore my breast, and fall on mine own pike.

Yet had I suff'red for a courteous one, These woes should ne'er had power t' have raised a sorrow 2880But when mine eyes did in my breast enthrone Her—her of whom hell cruelty may borrow. This is the height of woe, death, and diseases, Nay, hell itself to this comparèd pleases.

Yet stay, say Neptune's palace shall be land, And this firm ball of earth a liquid brack; Say the North Pole with Phoebus shall be tanned, And to the South the lilies shall be black. Say this, and more, before thou dare to say Bellama is Màboun' or Mà bellà.'

2890No more of this: we'll for her freedom plot. A pious monk, perceiving well her smart, With diligence assayed to purge each spot With holy cruse from her diviner part. But still her answer was—nor man, nor lover, Nor she the virgin's ankles did discover.

'Alas! my brother I am not a male, But a weak sience of the weaker sex. The ladies spake the truth (might truth prevail) But me with torture Piazell' doth vex; 2900'Cause, at my entrance, I did promise fair; Yet 't proves court-language, merely, purely, air.

But all this time she would not licence deign That I three yards behind should leave the gates, And fumèd when I would have left her train, T' have sought a jewel, and to gather dates. So that the Duke my father ne'er had ken Of my encloist'ring in this hate-light den.

But, 'gainst it now resolving, I intend To turn the stream of his munificence 2910On you, dear brother, if you'll be my friend, And plot how I may be delivered hence. Lend your endeavours: and I'll lend my wit, Vow faithfulness, and I will warrant it.

I'll woo my father for his free assent, If to your barren cowl you'll bid farewell, That Hymen's rites may perfect our content, By joyful echoes of the marriage bell. 'Cause you in person do resemble him Whom 'mongst all men I only judgèd trim.'

2920The monk gave ear unto her winning prate And gazèd on her beauty masculine, Whose feature might delude a wiser pate, Assisted only by a tallow-shine. (For by an unctious salve she kept her chin From the hair-mantle of an agèd skin.)

'Madam', says he, 'I judge your language true, And to your vows I dare my credence lace: Your virgin-blushes innocence do show, And modesty is printed on your face. 2930Faith, truth, and honesty reside with me: My best endeavours shall your servants be.'

'Well,' says Felice, 'I have now decreed (Since Phoebus has forsook our hemisphere), To sheath my body in your holy weed, Then through the private walk my course will steer. So from your holy walls I'll take my flight, Or by permission, or in silent night.

And when I am arrived at Folco's towers, My father shall your matchless kindness know, 2940Who, I am sure, will summon all his powers To fetch thee from this house of flame and snow: And who with much contentment will not brook Some three days' penance to be made a duke?

For, by inheritance, the dukedom's mine When death unbody shall my father's soul. Since no heir-male's descended from our line, The Salic law cannot my right control. And, to assure thee that I'm only thine, I swear by all the powers that are divine.'

2950Then did she circle with ensphering arm Conrado's neck and amorously him lipp'd, Which did the amorist so strongly charm That he with haste out of his vestments skipped, And bade Felice change: for in good deed He should full well become her virgin weed.

Felice undressed, and dressed, and having made Herself a monk, put on Conrado's face, And some few minutes with her monkship played, Then gave a farewell to that hated place. 2960But ere her quick dispatch could post her thence Her beauty shot a fire through every sense.

Fear now exiled the confidence he tied, Forced by affection, to Felice's words, Revoked his promise now,—all aid denied; And, with majestic looks and gesture's lords His flaming lust dissolved his pious snow, And now his loud desires will have no 'No'.

But vows to disenclothe her and to break Her virgin-seal despite of force or smiles, 2970Till Folco strove and made his noddle leak Sardonic liquor to new-paint the tiles, So hasted out, and to the matron gave The iron porter of Conrado's grave.

Imping his haste, he threads the vaulted lane, Not wounded by his soles this many a day, Like those which, when arraigned, a pardon gain Dare neither at the jail nor gallows stay. And coming to the postern gate he knocked, Which at devotion time was always locked.

2980But when the last Amen had silenced prayer, The porter to Albino entrance gave; Who straight was brought unto the judgement chair, Where, furred with state, did sit the abbot grave. Who said, 'Conrade, why was your stay so long? You missed the manna of the evensong.'

Pseudo-Conrado answered him, 'My lord, I found Felice so oppressed with grief, That charity commanded me t'afford By learning, prayers, and anthems, some relief. 2990And truly on my faith I am persuaded A virgin-lady with these weeds is shaded.

I, moved to pity by her streaming tears,— Her sighing gales, loud threnes, and sad laments, Won by her beauty, and her tender years, Have promised aid, confirmed by your assents, And in all haste will tell her father's grace What clouds of woe bemist Felice's face.

She promised me when as her freedom's sealed, When she shall re-enjoy the glorious light, 3000When the sad sentence of her woe's repealed She will be mine in spite of envy's might. Nay more, she from the dukedom will extract Some lordships to perform a pious act.'

Forthwith, a synod of the holy men Was called to broach the wisdom of their pates. The questions were proposed—"Who? What? and When? The 'who', is Folco's daughter; 'what', estates; The 'when', so soon as she, by Folco's powers, Shall shell her body in proud Gurby's towers.

3010This answer smelt of profit, and did gain The abbot's liking, and his griping crew. Says he, 'Conrado, true content does reign And triumph in our thoughts: we yield to you. Success wait on thy voice: for to thy care Our wishes, hopes, desires, entrusted are.'

'Fear not,' quoth he, 'my faith dares warrant all. All things are real as my words are true. Myself will pace unto fair Gurby hall, And with emphatic language plead and sue: 3020So that old Folco's lungs shall crack with laughter To hear me chat the travails of his daughter.

First she, mistrusting that she should be forc'd, By his proud nod, unto a hated pillow, From folly, Folco, folk, herself divorced, To twist, for scornèd maids, some wreaths of willow. How zealously she prayed, and looked demurely! She is, in thought and word, a virgin surely.

But the conceit is this—Who bridles laughter, That virgins holy, pure, and nuns to boot, 3030Should thicken with the pills of Folco's daughter, Sing lullabies, and to Lucina hoot? T' increase the wonder then, and imp his pleasures, To Folco I'll present these waggish measures.'

Behold, admire, and some contentment gather From nuns that teem, manned by a virgin-father.

Wonder and admiration cease to gaze On flashing meteors, stars, and comets' blaze. Let not Vitruvius or th' Ichonian beast, Putzol or Etna slide into your breast. 3040Ope not your ears unto those cracks of thunder, Whose cannon-echoes split the orbs in sunder. Lend not your audience to those fond reports Of Ob'ron, Mabell, and their fairy sports, Nor tie your credence to the poet's pen Which writes the noble acts of warlike men, Of monsters, mooncalves, merry games, and masks, Atlas' stiff shoulders, and Alcides' tasks. Amazement flies these babbles, and does pin Faith, eyes, and thoughts, unto this curtain-sin; 3050That a pure virgin should unvirgin others, And, though a virgin, yet make many mothers; Make them heave up, be qualmish, pale, and cry 'A midwife (ho!) a midwife: else we die.' It is an Afric crow, a sable swan, To have a vestal puffèd up with man: But that so many nuns unmaidened are B' a nun without a man is more than rare. The Sybil's virgin is not worth a rush, And Merlin's mother may with envy blush. 3060These, though they soared above the pitch of reason, Yet crossed not nature's order, course, or season. For women teemed as women, but a woman As man, makes virgins teem, and yet is no man. This—this is object unto fame and wonder, Then make each clime with this Mirandum thunder.

About this time night summoned them to rest, And each repairèd to his sturdy bed. Albino's fears his hopes and joys suppressed; But, in the rest, content struck sorrow dead. 3070They slept until the bright enlight'ned air, With silver glitter, called them up to prayer.

But our Albin' took earlier leave of sleep, And sheathed his body in his monkish vests; Knocked at his lodge, which did the entrance keep, Who that he could not wake himself protests: 'Thou art some fury, hag, or Hob I trow, That boldly at my lodge dost thunder so.'

Albino says, 'What frenzy damps thy reason? Arise, my haste commands a frequent rap.' 3080'Begone,' quoth he, 'entreats are out of season. Worshipful Hob, I'll have another nap. 'Tis not mine hour to rise until I hear The clapper sound a surge in mine ear.'

When our young monk had many minutes spent, And could not Foppo from his pillow rear, About that time light's charioteer had sent Day's trusty harbinger his orb to clear. He searched the walls, and trafficked with the lock; But all in vain, he must implore the frock.

3090The chapel-clerk, as constant to his hour As is day's herald which at breaking crows, Seeing Aurora did his windows scour And leapt into his chamber, straight arose: Making the shrill-toned bell in echoes speak, 'Awake and rise to prayer, the day does break.'

Foppo was at that time in Morpheus' court, Where he with apparitions was affrighted; The scene was changed, then came a dainty sport, Whose sudden neatness every sense delighted; 3100Then dreamt Albine, their renegado monk Was knocking at his lodge, the other Nunc.

Then dreamt he saw a table richly spread With all the dainties riot ever felt; All birds of warrant which in woods are bred, With salmon, mullet, turbot, trout, and smelt: The princely-pacing deer, entombed in paste, Embalmed with spices to delight the taste.

A sparkling wine, drawn newly from the cheek Of some chaste fair which blushes coloured red, 3110With brisk canary and enlivening Greek, Poetic sherry which can sharpen lead— This ravish'd Foppo with a taste content, Till to his ear the bell an errand sent.

When, starting up, he deemed the bell did call His able stomach to a founder's feast, And with all speed was swogging to the hall, But that Albino stayed him by the crest, And lew-warm claret from his hogshead drew To make his stomach give the deer adieu.

3120Quoth he, 'Thou son of Somnus, drowsy slave! Why didst thou not at my loud summons rise? But in a fit of lunacy did rave As though thy wit had ta'en some new disguise? I'll be your Hob, your hag: and, though I'm loath, Will now chastise thee for thy feignèd sloth.'

But whilst his passion took a breathing space, The wak'ned porter from his fists did creep, Fixèd his goggles on his youthful face, And then rememb'red his prophetic sleep. 3130Tells him he's not Conrado; for he knows That brow, those cheeks, lips, eyes, Albino owes.

'And though your wrath should grind me unto powder, Without a warrant, I will ope no gate.' This answer made Albino's anger louder, And vowed a passage, bought at any rate. So leapt upon the slave with nimble strength, And measured on the earth his ugly length.

Albino hastes to th' postern; having got The keys, but 'mongst so many much was puzzled 3140To find the right; Foppo meanwhile did trot Unto some chambers where the shavelings nuzzled, And them with outcries raisèd to surprise Albino, larvèd in Conrado's guise.

Like penancers with linen on their backs, The baldpates ran to seize upon their prey; But yet their haste a semi-moment lacks: Albino through the gate had found a way. And, snatching out the keys, did them encage, Raising a bulwark to withstand their rage.

3150Then thanked his stars that thus delivered him From dangers which did threaten naught but death. For he by th' verge of Mare mort did swim, And did expect his latest gale to breath. Nay, these late troubles had him so dishearted That every shadow 'lmost the union parted.

You, whose disasters some proportion hold, Help my weak fancy to express his fears; Teach me my rhymes in cypress to enfold, From thwarted lovers borrow me some tears; 3160Fetch me some groans from the ascending thief; And from the Inquisition fetch me grief.

Without demurs, Albino left the wicket, Fearing the monks should bribe the faithless lock, And steered his course unto a well-grown thicket, Whose lofty hill was armed with many a rock. He envies sculls that wait on spit and oven, And vows ne'er more to see that hated coven.

Have you beheld the stately-pacing stag, Flying the echoes of some deep-mouthed hounds? 3170How first his brow does wear a ferny flag, And with curvettings beats the quaking ground; Telling the fawns and wood-nymphs that he scorns The hounds, horse, huntsmen, and their warbling horns.

But when he is embossed in blood and sweat, When travail on his swiftness fetters hangs, He then is frighted with the shrill recheat, And fears a pinking with the yellers' fangs. Seeks ev'rywhere for shelter, and dares rush Malèd with fear, into the sharpest bush.

3180So fared it with Albino: whilst he had Fate at a beck, commanded Fortune's wheel, Was callèd by his Donnes, active lad, He thought his joys were wallèd in with steel, Slighted misfortune, envy set at naught, And, braving malice, dared in every thought.

But when his tow'ring heart was taught to know Humiliation, and self-confidence Was strucken dead with famine, flame, and snow; Although his genial stars had freed him thence, 3190He fears the monkish rabble, and he shrouds Himself in caves, encurtained round with clouds.

In his dark house he heard a feeble voice, Breathed from the corals of some weak'ned maid. At first concealment was his better choice, Till pity set an edge upon his blade. Then guided by the cry, he saw a roister Did in his arms perforce a nymph encloister.

Yet, seeing home-spun russet, stopped his pace; Saying, 'By this what honour shall I gain?' 3200But in his eye so curious was her face, Though masked and blubbered o'er with brackish rain, That he forthwith unsheathed his trusty Turk, Called forth that blood which in his veins did lurk.

So, stepping forward, cries, 'Injurious slave, Unto what baseness does thy folly tempt her?' Who answered him, 'Fond fool, thy foolish brave From my decreèd end shall not exempt her. Befriend me, Queen of Cyprus! and in spite Of force or fortune, I'll have my delight.'

3210'Desist,' Albino says, 'or else I vow, By all those tapers which enrich the night, I'll make pale death strew cypress on thy brow. And to th' infernal shades thy soul will fright. Cease from thy brutish rape, or else prepare Thy cursed lungs to draw the Stygian air.'

Quoth the rude Sylvan, 'I am past that age Which with bugbears the foppish nurse does fright. Hence, curtain-squire, smock-groom, and urine-page! I'll have no testates unto my delight. 3220Pack hence with speed, or by Actaeon's head, My weighty falchion shall pronounce thee dead.'

'Well,' says Albino, 'since thou'lt not desist, Prove the adventures of a bloody duel. One of our threads fell Atrop's shall untwist, For to my rage kind pity lendeth fuel. To free a virgin from thy gripping paws I judge well pleasing unto nature's laws.'

They clasp'd their helms, and buckled to their fight, 'Twixt whom no umpire was but meagre death. 3230The woodwards green with Tyrian dye was dight Who now desires a minute's space to breath. Albino gave the truce, yet but to breath; His valour scorned to crowd into the sheath.

Then did his nimble sleight and courage show, Feigning a stroke, but pointed at his breast, Which oped a door whereat his spirits flew, And wellnigh set his fainting soul at rest. With that th' enfeebled Sylvan weakly cries 'Hold, hold thy hand! or else Sylvanus dies.'

3240'Dost call for mercy,' says Albino, 'now? And all thy thoughts erstwhile triumphant rid? I seek not murder, may I save my vow. That I should joy in blood my stars forbid. I am content the virgin's voice shall seal Thy death, or pardon, if thou make appeal.'

'Fair virgin,' quoth Sylvanus, 'pity is The only grace that gives a virgin price. Remission crowns a heart with greater bliss, Than to hang iron on weak nature's vice. 3250The rays of your bright beauty urged desire; Your feature kindled lust, love blowed the fire.'

The virgin answered, 'I did never suck The tiger's dugs, the lioness, and bear, Nor from a reeking breast an heart did pluck. Never will I in blood with vulture's share. But, since submission speaks from voice and knee, Kind pity thins the fault, and pardons thee.'

Then to Albino says, 'Heroic youth, May all the blessings which attend on man 3260Felicitate thy life; and to buy truth To words, I dare do more than virgins can. But, above all, I wish may nature's pride, Lilies and roses, intertwine thy bride.

But yet alas! to recompense by airs So large a bounty and so free is poor. Yet why may not a spotless virgin's prayers, Wing'd with desire, unclasp high heaven's door? Accept of this, and if the Fates befriend me, These blessings which I wished for shall attend thee.'

3270'Nature's sole wonder, beauty's only gem,' Quoth he, 'my valour and my feeble arms (If your perfections had not strenght'ned them) Could not have freed you from intended harms. Ascribe the honour to your matchless face. My courage merits not the meanest place.

Yet had I swum through seas of steaming blood, And passed through nitre flames that belch forth lead, Had all the Furies armed with vipers stood, T' have stopped my passage or pronounced me dead— 3280I would have thrown the die my fortune tried, T' have bought you freedom though in crimson dyed.

For, when mine eyes sent forth the farthest glance, To fetch th' idea of your beauty in, That very sight my senses did entrance, And make my thoughts excuse Sylvanus' sin. For sure your quick'ning rays can melt a snow On which the winds of age and sorrow blow.

But why do I upon the Ela raise Thy noble worth, and yet intend to woo? 3290Since beauty oft displays her plumes at praise, Then by this doing I myself undo. But where I virtues find, refined as gold, Despair shall never make affections cold.

Be pleasèd then to think the god of Love With gilded arrow has transfixed my heart, And let my purple breast your pity move. With balsam of regard allay my smart, Send thy quick eyes into my breast to see, What tortures prick my heart to purchase thee.'

3300'Sir, I am grieved,' quoth she, 'you are allied To him whose quiver crowns a lover's wish. Else at a twelve-score distance might y' have spied You cast your net to mesh a simple fish. Your worth and feature does entitle you To Cytherea with her silver hue.

When I, alas! am but an homely maid, Born to a spindle and to serve a plough. To milk my spongy-teated cows I strayed, Which here amongst these tender hazels low. 3310My starvèd fortunes cannot think of love, Nor does my envy wound the billing dove.'

This answer silencèd Albino's hopes, Which spake as loud as though they kissed the sheets; He in his thoughts commends the quiet copes Which taste no sour in hunting after sweets. 'Alcides' life,' quoth he, 'compared to mine, Is trouble-free, spiced with contents divine.

Fair maid, what hatred frosteth your desires? What steams of envy choke bright Venus' lamp? 3320Give some kind fuel to maintain my fires, A frown of yours will all my vitals damp. Oil o'er my writhled heart, or let me know From what black heads these bitter cadents flow.'

'Your favours, sir, have such commanding power, That 'tis unjust your wishes to deny, Accursed with all black tempests be that hour In which my heart gave credit to mine eye. Else would I not have been so much averse T' a mind so noble and a feature terse.

3330But now alas! myself myself am not, For heartless I my heart have giv'n away: An abbey-brother has that treasure got, Albino hight—he's Phoebus of my day. Your habit speaks you a monk, sir, if you can Tell me where I may find that (ah me) man.

Be pleased,' quoth she, 'to tell me where I may, Or go myself, or else a servant send.' 'Fair maid,' quoth he, 'it is a gloomy way Leads to the bed of your benighted friend. 3340His ashes are in Darwey Abbey laid, But his faint ghost walks i' th' Elysian shade.'

'But is he dead?' says she, and loudly shrieked, Which waked Narcissus' hate to second her, Her rosies dewed with melting crystal reeked, And sorrow did her trembling heart inter. Symptoms of sad deplorings ne'er were known, Which were not in her sharp lamentings shown.

'Choice maid,' quoth he, 'do not destroy your rosies, And blast your beauty with such scalding sighs. 3350In nature's garden there are choicer posies, More comely features, and more agile thighs. What though Albino's dead? another may Be trulier termed the Phoebus of your day.'

'Oh, do not stain,' says she, 'his spotless name! Within his bosom every virtue ranged. Equals to him dull nature cannot frame, Though she should labour till herself be changed: It is a shame to ask more favours yet: Grant me this one, because my sun is set.

3360My pity saved, when as your fury had The rough-pawed Sylvan mincèd with your skene. Oh, with same courage let your mind be clad, With your sharp scimitar my liver dreane. Why should I be a liver, since he's dead Who was my hope, my health, my heart, my head'.

'How am I chang'd!' quoth he, 'my heart does beat The fainting summons of the Child of Sin. My knees do quarrel, and a chilling sweat Cold as the dew of winter oils my skin. 3370Fear snatcheth from my roseate banks their blood, And drowns my liver in a sanguine flood.

'Tis strange a naked breast of bleachèd snow, And crystal mounts enriched with coral heads, (On which the purple violets do grow) Should dare mine arm, and strike my courage dead. My steel a breast of iron has unhinged. And knees of brass have to my fury cringed.

Had some vast Gog or he whom Tellus brought— One got by Fury or Gradivus' mate— 3380Who, but with monsters, ne'er conversed with ought, Dared with a look, mine arm had weak'ned Fate. But, at this feeble voice my blood does start, And into pity melts my swelling heart.

Then name no more those words: for they at once Do both unedge my valour and my steel. Too safely do your virtues keep the sconce. My steadiest thoughts, struck with these letters, reel. My sacrilegious hand shall never stain Virtue's sole temple, and the grace's fane.

3390Dry up those furrowing cadents. Will you give Your lovely self in marriage unto him, If I shall say Albino yours does live, And in your view his comely portrait limn? Say, aye, to this: and I will try my skill, To make him pace along yon craggy hill.'

''Tis the countenance which my wishes crave, Naught half so sweet,' says she, 'as Hymen's tedes.' Albino then the haired earth did shave, And hedged two circles in with ropes of beads; 3400Then, quart'ring them, did take the virgin's hand, And bade her with unshaken courage stand.

'Thou must not be surpris'd with shivering fear, Though Cerberus, the janitor of Hell, Though seven-headed Hydra, panther, bear, The lion, tiger, or the dragon yell; Although a monster spits forth flashing powder, Though clouds and winds strive which should bellow louder.'

This said, with cruse of holy water he Besprinkled o'er himself, besprinkled her, 3410And zealously did cross: the same did she, Like a devout Romezzo conjurer. This done: 'Fair maid,' quoth he, 'if Fates befriend me, The servant of your beauty shall attend thee.'

Then 'gan [he] to invoke, or seem t' invoke, With uncouth language the infernal crew— 'Vitz, Allafoun, Trallasht with elfish poke, Trollox and Chimchish, with your grisly hue, Gnarzell and Phrizoll which in Styx do wade, Lê portè Albino from the Stygian shade.'

3420When from his lips these words had ta'en their flight, A shuffling whirl-puff roared amongst the trees, Th' affrighted leaves took flight, the grass looked white, The quaking poplars fell upon their knees. Jove's sacred tree stood cringing unto it, And bowed his head, else 'twas in sunder split.

Then, from a breaking cloud, a sheet of fire Encircled them, and dashed against an oak, Ush'ring a thunder, whose untamed ire Like dreadful tyrants naught but terror spoke. 3430And as unwilling to depart from them His ireful cracks the trembling grove did hem.

These, suddenly succeeding so the first, And at that instant when he feigned a spell, Did make Albino judge himself accursed, Thinking his voice unhinged the gates of hell. Bellama's rosies wore as white as snow, As though the Phyma did upon them blow.

And justly, for though these but common were, Yet at that time when faintness kept the wicket, 3440Which at each shadow oped the gate to fear, In that dark place, that unfrequented thicket— I blame not though her courage had been colder, And in art magic wish Albino bolder.

But when the storm was passed, his courage got The conquest of his fear, made his quick eyes Stand sentinel t' advantage more his plot: And, looking from the mountain, he espies A man descending, as he told the maid, Which the loud tempest of his fears allayed.

3450Then says, 'Behold the object of your hope'. Away springs she from off that gloomy place, Posts to the hill, forsakes her magic cope. Meanwhile Albino doffs Conrado's face, And set upon his looks Albino's dye; So, imped with love, unto the mount did fly.

Where he espied Bellama rove about Crying, 'Albino, dost thou fly from me?' The man was but a silly shepherd lout That climbed the hill his fleecy train to see. 3460And when his eyes had healthed his wealthy flocks, Trudged to his cote, walled in with sturdy rocks.

Albin', encount'ring her, says, 'Lovely maid, Was 't your small voice that did Albino call?' ''Twas I, poor I', the fainting virgin said, 'Why was I forced from Rhadamanthus' hall?' 'Who was 't, quoth he, 'that, with commanding air, Snatch'd me forth' arms of Proserpina fair?'

'It was a courteous monk,' quoth she, 'whom I Humbly entreated to deliver thee.' 3470'Alas! sweet maid,' quoth he, 'Fates do deny Freedom from thence, nor can I pay the fee. 'Fee!' says she, 'fear not: if an earldom can Purchase thy freedom, I will give it, man.'

'Thou canst not ransom one from Pluto's jail, Shouldst thou lay down the gaudy triple crown; With steely-hearted Fate naught can prevail, On whose harsh brow there ever dwells a frown. Speak fair, thy business: for I must begone, Grim Charon waits for me at Acheron.'

3480'Ah me,' quoth she, 'and is it truth I hear? Then, dear Albino, I will wait on thee.' 'You're like to find', quoth he, 'but homely cheer, If in my diet you partake with me.' 'Famine's a favour unto me,' says she, 'Bridewell a bride-house, if I live with thee.

But, prithee, what is Rhadamanthus fell, And she whom thou didst Proserpina call?' 'Sweetest,' quoth he, 'he is the judge of hell, That dooms us tortures, or does us enthral. 3490For, if our innocence do plead for us, We're led t' Elysium from dark Erebus.

That other was the Thracian harper-mate, Whom Pluto forced unto his gloomy house, His devilship with smiles to recreate, Full bowls of his nepenthe to carouse.' 'I'm glad I know', quoth she, 'for jealous fears Unto my heart did travel from my ears.'

'Why, lovely maid, did ever I behold Before this time', quoth he, 'your comely face?' 3500'How! dear Albino, must you now be told Who your Bellama is? 'tis high disgrace. Sure you of Lethe's streams have deeply drank, Which doth the powers of your mind disrank.'

'Ha!' quoth Albino, 'can my dullness think That homely russets my Bellama veil? I deeply of oblivion sure did drink, Did I not know her from a milking pail. Peace, pretty fair, do not my saints profane, Her beauty has not such coarse lodging ta'en.'

3510'Well,' quoth Bellama, 'will you me discard, When for your sake I've run through all disasters? Must slights and nescios now be my reward? Will you make ulcers, and apply no plasters? Clothed in this coarse array, I roved abroad To find the place of thy secure abode.'

'Sweet,' says Albino, 'let not anger dress Thy stainless lilies in distraction's dye. Let ignorance plead pardon, for I guess Some other beauties may "Albino" cry. 3520Might now a ghost permitted be to kiss, My lips should suck from thine a cherry-bliss.'

'Why,' says Bellama, 'has a ghost no lips? Is there no pleasure dwells in spirits' veins? This "might a ghost" does all my joys eclipse, For now I have my labour for my pains. Pray, what was Merlin's father? is 't not said Spirits have power a damsel to unmaid?'

These words, proceeding from Bellama's lips, Did make Albino myrrhine juice carouse, 3530To raise an active heat, which nimbly skips In every vein like fays in Ob'ron's house. But when he was no ghost, and hoped to merit Love for love, he found her of another spirit.

'Away, fond monk!' quoth she, 'dost think that I Into a sea of grief will wade with thee? And drown my fortunes? make an earldom die? Dost think humility resides with me? Canst think I'll choose a pebble, slight a pearl, Marry a threadbare cowl and scorn an earl?

3540What door to thy presumption did I ope? What symptoms of affections did I show? What actions gainful birth unto thy hope? Or from what vow did thy assurance grow? Cease then, for I take it in high disdain, To thy coarse worth my smallest ray to chain.'

'Disdain?' quoth young Albino. 'Can this be The voice of my Bellame? Is there such odds? If not in birth, in worth I equal thee, Although my muse shot love into the gods. 3550Disdain's a pitch too high for maids to reach, Scarce will the queen of pride such doctrine teach.

Presumption too? does he deserve that brand, Who dallies with consent, invited to 't? What firmer seal than language, lip, and hand? What better warrant than desired to do 't? Say, he is saucy that, with crusted fists, Paws a court-silk, and melts her balmy wrists.

Who feeted that enigma, whose kind air Spake me the only high in thy esteem? 3560Was I not bosomed more than parents, fair? Did not thine own voice that saint-secret seem? Who bribed your full face-gazings? and what she Judged none praise, lip, deserving of but me?

Did not you in mysterious postures woo me? And 'gainst Bardino levied all your spite? Nay, by Barraba sent invitements to me? And dubbed me by your knot the Red-rose Knight? Did not your wish glue feathers on your feet To thread a casement when I paced the street?

3570And after these, ah! thousand more, and nearer Seals of thy love, must slights unseal your lips? A puny mistress-hunter well may fear her, When pride at high noon can my sun eclipse. Fury! lend me thy poison, Rage! thy breath, That I, by pride doomed, may doom beauty death.

You pale-faced shadows of the gloomy isles, Fill up my gall, and lend me all your pow'rs, To torture women who, enriched with wiles, From their moist eyes send forth dissembling show'rs. 3580Would Jove the mount had barren been of stones Whereof old Pyrrha fram'd the female bones!

Would Sea's daughter, that same queen of faces, Her alabaster box would deign to me, Once Phao's ferry pay that gave such graces, Which till that time the sun did never see. That I not only might, as others are, Be counted comely, but o' th' fairest fair.

Then would I sleight those formal tricks of love, Those sighs, tears, vows, complaints, and folded arms; 3590Caps, cringes, oaths, and compliments to move Th' affections of a girl expecting charms. For wealth, wit, wisdom, eloquence, and greatness Are less inducements unto love than neatness.'

'How now? Albino, is your doublet grown Too straight', says she, 'that you do puff and swell? Peace! peace! let not your choler thus be shown.' 'A thing impossible', says he, 'you tell. In vain we call for peace, and calmness praise, When love and hate intestine wars do raise.

3600Women have double pupils, so they can Kill like the basilisk but with a glance. Their very praise does blast and wither man, Like frost and winter, or his soul entrance. They're all like Glaucus' wife, whose filthy charms Won poor Ulysses to her lustful arms.

They're Holgoy, Africans, and fiends they are— Words know not what they are, they're hell to me—, Would Jove I had the Heliostrophio fair, To touch all maids, or, if not all, yet thee: 3610Or had been born under the Scorpion's head, With amulets t' have struck thy beauty dead.

Ah! faithless Polupists, that thus can change Into an hundred thousand shapes your minds! Phoebe to you is constant; tides do range, Yet back return; more settled are the winds— Mere Pompholyx which with each breath does stray. Your loves catch feathers too, and fly away.

Sometimes a fit of sullens seals your jaws, In contemplation big (of Jove knows what), 3620And then again, as if your tongues made laws, You weary time with your eternal chat. Ah Mantuan! [Mantuan!] thy pen is not a liar, Although thy habit says thou wert a friar.

Erstwhile a sober nun Bellama was, Then a Lucretia, at another gale I know not what, a straggling country lass, A quinque-lettered, 'haps, which set to sale, Now, none more willing unto love than she, And now more further off from love or me.

3630Yet call that hasty language back a while. Bellama is not such, she's Cupid's dart; Teach me, great Jove, to make Bellama smile, And with one ray sun her Albino's heart. Thou purblind boy! teach me to gain Bellama:' Straight Echo's voice returned him answer, 'Ama.'

'Thanks, gentle Echo, might thy voice divine Speak truth in this, that love commandeth love. I would through every mood and tense decline Amo, and saint thee too, my joy, my dove! 3640Nay, thou shouldst be whate'er fond babblers prate, Albino's goddess, though Narcissus' hate.

Oh! would to Jove I were in courteous France, Or else that happy place in France with me, That with more tongues thou mightst make ama dance Within these silent woods from tree to tree. Or would thou hadst imperial power from Jove, In the imperious mood to bid her love.'

Quoth she, 'Unworthy of a conquest's he That for a cannon's roar his ensigns veils: 3650Unworthy of a rose or rosy glee Is he, whose courage at her javelins fails: They're feeble amorists that for a "fie!" Run from their colours, and in silence lie.

'Tis our prerogative to have entreat With every phrase that flatt'ry does enhance, To win our loves, though every stroke they beat, Our hearts beat Cupid's march, tune Venus' dance. In their desires they never yet did perish Which feed our humours, and our passions cherish.

3660To prove the truth of thy affections, I Shot forth that language, headed with disdain. My heart is thine which, till death close mine eye With steely thumb, thy bosom shall retain. Caesar's proud nod shall not command that bliss Whose sweets are promised by this melting kiss.'

'Ha!' quoth Albino, 'dare I trust mine ears With this blest air? And am I sure I wake? Or is 't a dream which wakeneth into tears? 'Tis truth: then crawl hence, Furies, toad, and snake! 3670The earth her mines, sea vomit shall their pearl, Ere I leave her, who for me left an earl.'

Then sate they dallying in a shady bow'r, Where maples, ash, and thorn did them embrace: Whilst her enliv'ning breath produced each flow'r In curious knots to damask o'er the place. Oh! who would not his soul and substance tenter, To be circumference to such a centre?

Now have our amorists attained the height Of true content; and sate like billing doves. 3680She tells her quest, he his monastic flight, Whilst both recount their passions, fears, and loves, Till Titans hasting to moist Thetis' arms Bade them provide against his sister's harms.

Then, joining heart and hand with easy pace, They travelled to a pague adjoining near Where in a straw-thatched roof (an homely place For such a pair) they entertainèd were, And what fine cates old Kath'rine could afford, Was served in state unto an aged board.

3690Their table with rich damask cloths was spread, Whose every twist outvied the double cable, The napkins diaper, of equal thread, The mourning trenchers clothèd were in sable. A curious salt cut out o' th' boulder stone— And for their plate—sincerely there was none.

The dropsied host like to a sew'r did strut, To marshal every dish; and first did bring A spacious bowl, to scour the narrow gut, Of nut brown ale, a liquor for a king. 3700And says, 'My Bona Roba, drink this bowl, 'Twill clear thy throat, and cheer thy drooping soul.'

Next came the mumping hostess and set down A lusty dish of milk—sky-coloured blue, Crumbed with the ludgets of the lusty brown, Which two months since was piping hot and new; 'Yet 'tis', says she, 'as savoury in good law As wheaten trash which crams the ladies' maw.'

This good old crone was troubled so with wind, Her coats did dance to th' music of her belly. 3710Next came a barley dumpling whose harsh rind Was oilèd o'er with a fine tallow jelly Brought by a mincing Marget, passing trim, Whose juicy nose did make the pudding swim.

Next came some glotrah (which the ploughman flanks Joined with a pudding on a holy day) Brought by a jetting dame, on whom in ranks And discipline of state whole troops did stray Of—I forbear to say, lest these rude feet With queasy dames and lady readers meet.

3720Last, a tough cheese must lock the stomach's door, Milked from a cow that fed on naught but burrs, Had lain five winters on [a] spongy floor, To gain an harness and a coat of furs; So neatly peopled too, 'twas judg'd a court, Such herds of gentles did about it sport.

Qualmish Bellama could not eat a bit, 'Cause luscious meats a surfeit soon provoke. Albino vent'red but was fain to spit, Lest those harsh viands should his monkship choke. 3730And whilst he hawkèd, and Bellama laugh'd, The trumping hostess stole a thumping draught.

'Are you so dainty-toothèd,' quoth mine host, 'That country victuals will not down with you? You shall be fed with custards, pies, and roast. Cannot your chops a boneless pudding chew? I trow far worser is than this your fare, Unless you kitchen-sculls and lick-spits are.'

'Ma' gep ma' faw,' the crabbèd hostess said, 'Let 'em e'en fast if they'll not eat their soul. 3740Is not my daughter Maudge as fine a maid? And yet by mack you see she trolls the bowl. I've dressed a supper sure has pleasèd those, Had wider purses far, and better clothes.'

'Pray, mother, 'gainst the young mon do not rage,' Says full-lipped Madge, 'for he must be your son. We are alike in face, of equal age; Then ho! the match is soon concluded on. Kuss me, my honest Dick, for we this night With crickle crackle will the goblins fright.'

3750'Mass,' says mine host, 'I like the fellow well. To suckle bairns I'll give him tidy mull, And my brown mare as sound as any bell, With ten good shear-hogs to afford him wool, And, if they please me, after me they shall Sell nappy yale within this trusty wall.'

'Feck,' says mine hostess, 'they shall have a bed With good strong sheets to pig together in, A brazen pot, a kettle, and a lead, Platters, bowls, pails, and an old kilderkin. 3760And if they please m' a brace of wheels to spin Mantles and clouts to wrap their bantlings in.'

Our lovers at this pretty talk did smile, Then says Albino 'Here is no such haste, I like: but yet we'll respite it a while, Thou shall be, duck, some three nights longer chaste. I'll man my sister at day's next attiring, Then back and give my Maudge a curtain spring.'

When as his yielding had appeased the billows Of their loud passions, and their meat digested, 3770Night's middle age invited to their pillows, But tell I dare not how the lovers rested, Whether co-sheeting was allowed as fit, Monastic vows dispensing well with it.

But this I say, there was but one guest-room, Hanged with a pentice cloth spoke age enough; The spiders here had one continued loom: Here rats and mice did play at blind man's blough. Their bed had many tasters, but no tester, Their bedding ushered in thin-sided Easter.

3780Repentant mattress for chastising Lent, Stout as a face of steel, which ne'er will yield; Their sheets were tenants, weekly payed rent, The pillow was with juice of noddles steeled, And therefore fit to bolster any sin. Their coverlet was of a bullock's skin.

Their urine vessel was of Ticknall make, Whose inside was with unshorn vellet clad. Their bedstead floated in a springing lake Where frogs and newts their rendezvouses had. 3790This was their guest-bed, and there was no other, Think you Bellama then lodged with her brother?

No: such pure virtues saint Bellama's breast, And such clear sparks of honour heat his soul, That such a thought would stain her virgin crest, And blur the sacreds of Albino's roll. Then die, black thoughts! Bellama's chaste denials Repelled all charms of love and Venice-trials.

Nay, he ne'er tempted, nor attempted once To scale the fortress of her virgin-tower, 3800For her chaste noes and vows did guard the sconce, That 'twas impregnable, not forced by power. And, though he did ensphere her naked waist, Yet durst my faith and oath conclude her chaste.

This longing on Albino worked so strong, That, when the god of slumbers did entreat Him to his court, into his thoughts did throng His house of penance, hunger, cold and sweat. So powerful was his dream entruthed with fear, That his strong faith concluded he was there.

3810And in some sort he was, for when the East Was purpled with the blushes of the morn, When his benumbèd senses were released By the shrill sound of Gallus' bugle horn— He heard a sound of words, and looking out, He saw a legion of the monkish rout.

For you must know that, when Albino's wit Had won him freedom, and Conrado thrall, The jealous matron somewhat fearèd it, And the next morning did 'Conrado' call, 3820Who (brooking ill his lodging) struck with fear, Made answer to the matron's question, 'Here'.

So, when her eyes suspicion truth had made, She asked Conrado how that came to pass, Quoth he, 'Credulity my fear o'erswayed, I was deluded with the dukedom lass. She promised me a dukedom for my pains, And I, poor I, thought it sufficient gains!'

'Ha!' quoth the matron, 'could thy falsehood serve Thus to dishonour me, and all my train? 3830His penalty is thine; till every nerve Shrink up with famine, thou shalt here remain. Time will not measure years ere thou wilt say, A dukedom for thy penance is no pay.'

'Madam,' quoth he, 'my senses were bewitchèd With that pure white which dwelt upon her brow; I scratched and pinched, but still my humours itchèd, I stood upright, but still my heart did bow. Who would not twice ten minutes in a brook Chin-high and thirsty stand, to be a duke?'

3840Quoth she, 'I see that folly oversways, And Venus sovereign is of every sect. To beauty every order homage pays, Whilst only age and blackness gain neglect. I 'xcuse thy frailty—haste unto thy dell— The sentence of Felice's flight repell.'

Conrado thanked her, and away did pack (As one reprievèd from the gallow tree Still fearing that stern justice plucked him back) Lest, Janus-like, her face should changèd be. 3850For well he knew the monthly hornèd queen No oft'ner fills her orb than she her spleen.

He Nature blamed, he could no faster run; But, coming to the gate, the porter oped, Who, much appalled to see a youthful nun, Says, 'Mistress, do you travel to be coped? Give me my fee: for sure, a plump-cheeked lass Shall not the porter's lodge unkissèd pass.'

He could not quiet his impatient lust Till he had shown the ensigns of his habit; 3860His parèd crown, with Venus' rays adust, Then left the mongrel his supposèd rabbit, And slinked away from his monastic veil, Just like a dog that newly burnt his tail.

When he had cast his woman, and put on The habit of his order, he made haste Unto his lord, told him Felice's gone, And that his conscience did conclude her chaste. 'She Folco's large endowments must inherit, And promised me to recompense my merit.'

3870The prior, smiling at his folly, checked Him for Apella's faith, and said his lass Was young Albino in nun-vestments decked. '(If that our porter had his double glass), And since thy coming cleareth every doubt, Harness yourselves to seek the younker out.'

As the attendants of an hunting prince, Intending to disfrank an o'ergrown boar, View the impressions of his feet, which, since Last eve, were printed on the sandy shore, 3880Beating each bush, and in each cabin searching To find his frank, and not the pheasants perching.

And as when Reynald, with his wily plot, Into the squadron of the geese is crept, And grandsire Gander on his back has got, Th' affrighted geese, like them which watch-tow'rs kept, With shrill-toned gabblings wake the slumb'ring towns, By Phoebe's candle to go seek the downs—

Some arm themselves with spits, one with a ladle, Some snatch up pickforks, one a bill or knife. 3890The ambling nurse runs out and leaves the cradle, And the awed midwife flies the teeming wife; Old grandsire greybeard his tuff bilbo gets, And grandame Grissel with her distaff jets.

Just so our hair-lack monks pursued their quest, Searched for his view, and threaded every grove With bells, beads, books, and holy water blest, And armed with envy's whips about did rove, Their runagado Reynald to surprise, And came to Stean ere the sun could rise.

3900Which sight unspirited Albino quite, That his invention could not teem a plot; For in his looks his fear was writ in white, And to his heart his frighted blood did trot. Yet, calling courage to appear o' th' stage, He sheathed his body in his woven cage.

Then hasting to the host, bade him awake, Desired his counsel and assisting hand, Says now his life and safety lay at stake. For, at his door, a troop of shavelings stand. 3910'I am their errand: I must bid adieu To lovely Maudge, mine hostess, and to you.'

'Ho!' quoth mine host, and rubbed his gummy eyes, 'What says my son? Must thou be whirled away? I warrant, boy, my club shall still their cries, When 'bout their costards I shall make it play. I'll dye their stark-nak'd crowns with their own blood, Then let 'em come if that they think it good.'

'Good Sickerlin,' says Maudge, 'ere they shall have My honey-sweeten Dick, I'll scratch and bite, 3920With scalding water I'll their noddles shave; Then buss me Dick, thy Maudge will for thee fight.' 'Thanks,' quoth he, 'duck, but yet it cannot be That thy endeavours should advantage me.

But yet methinks I see some comfort dawn: Yon tinker's budget strengthens every joint. Send me some clothes by time's harsh grinders gnawn, And I will be a tinker in each point. My sister must have rags; and be my trull. Thus veiled and clothed we will the shavelings gull.'

3930Accoutred in these robes of state, he made His face and hands in sooty vestures mourn. Then waked Bellama, who was sore afraid To see a tinker, and away does turn. But grasping only air she shrilly cried, 'Art fled, Albino, from thy sweetheart's side?'

Which words, so shrilly spoke, made Echo babble; Who, winged with envy, out o' th' window flies, Carries 'Albino' to the monkish rabble, They, hearing that, Perduers made their eyes 3940And, swelled with rage, against the door did knock, Whose aged breast could not endure the shock.

This stroke Albino's heart did almost break, Yet bids Bellama sheath her body in These homely rags, which only safety speak. 'Care not for coarseness, so they hide the skin, And at this tinker's habit do not wonder, 'Tis but the curtain thy Albino's under.'

'What tipsied fellows at my door do beat Thus early,' quoth mine host, 'is this your manners? 3950What? must mine hostess wait upon th' entreat Of tailors, cobblers, carpenters, and tanners? If drinking be your errand, where ye got Your last night's fuddling-cap, this morning trot.'

Impatient they did make the door unhinge, Which gave an entrance to enraged Bardino. He to the reverend host did lowly cringe, Told him his errand was to seek Albino. And as they did his homely cottage hem, Albino's name came leaping unto them.

3960'Ho!' quoth mine host, 'unto mine house there came, Last night for lodging, a stout tinker knave, Who now is ticking with his ragged dame. Go, if with him ye any business have; But who Albino is I cannot tell. Here's no sike mon does penance in my cell.'

Into the arras-ceilèd parlour then, The copesters went, in every corner snooked, The tinker's visage none of them did ken, But for Albino on Albino looked. 3970Well might he cozen them, whenas his saint Knew not his face under that mask of paint.

Then as they searchèd every place by chance Conrado did his monkish vestments own He lent Felice at their affiance. The host, perceiving that the clothes were known, Said, 'Yesterday, about the after three, A fellow came and pawned those clothes to me.'

They asked Bellama then why she did call Upon Albino. 'Why, forsooth,' said she, 3980'I was a servant once in Darwey Hall, Where that young monk I oftentimes did see; Who oft in private would disport with me, And promised that I should his sweeting be.

But, by misfortune being turned away, This jovial tinker took me unto wife, So, as this morn by his warm side I lay, I of Albino dreamed—my joy, my life.' 'He's not thy mon,' quoth Maudge; 'thou li'st, base drab': 'Peace, housewife,' says mine host, 'you tattling blab.'

3990Thus had the scene been changed, had not the sire Suppressed her babblings with a check and grin. The monks, well satisfied, gang to the fire To taste the juice of Kate's old kilderkin. The tinker and mine host would always cry, 'Fill, hostess, fill! the monks are still a-dry.'

Drink full ones, tinker, methinks the monks are dry, Drink healths, mine host, the monks do fear a thirst. Are the monks thirsty? the monks will quickly try If they or the tinker want a pillow first. 4000Else will we jig and hay unto the black pot's sound, Till to that music the house shall dance the round. Then fill a dozen, hostess, we'll have a merry cup, And make the tinker forfeit his budget and his brass. 'Faith,' says the tinker, 'I'll make your monkships sup Till ye sing requiems in reading of the mass.' Then fill a gallon, hostess, we'll health it all about, Till all complain o' th' headache, the falling, or the gout. Come on, dropping shavelings, let's see you count your beads, I am half afraid you'll stutter in the mass. 4010Gramercy, lovely pots, and nimble Ganymedes, That brought more water than what holy was. Well, saucy tinker, well, pray finger you your brass, And let the monks alone, 'lone, they'll finger well the mass. Pray, Gaffer Cowlists, why are ye so bald To cool your pia maters in a sweat? Or did the water your wise noddles scald, Which your devotions and hot zeal did heat? Or are ye given unto Venus play? I am afraid there went the hair away. 4020But base Bardino did this mirth eclipse (In his monastic life Albino's friend), Viewing the travail of his hand, his lips, He, by a secret mark, Albino kenned. For, by some strange mishap, was set a brand, An azure spot upon his abler hand. Says he, 'Methinks you are too frolic, tinker, Your mirth I fear presageth your disgrace, You must no longer be mine hostess' skinker, For you will say, unless y' have brazed your face— 4030That you both see and do Albino know: If you deny 't, I have your hand to show. During the time that you were cowled and coped, On your right hand there dwelt a cerule mark, Which ne'er would off, although 'twas often soaped.' 'Well,' quoth mine host, 'but pray your worship, hark, May not two men be like? may there not be The selfsame spot of him, and you, and me?' This could not yet appease Bardino's hate, Still teeming mischief, and with envy big; 4040So, starting up, he fumed, and loud did prate, And snatchèd off Albino's periwig. Now 'gainst two witnesses he could not stand, Whenas his head bore witness with his hand. Albino excused, it was by nature so, Saying no razor e'er did touch his skull. 'No,' says Bardino, 'it again does grow; Thou canst not with this fop my wisdom gull. Keep him, my brethren, and meanwhile I will Fetch the watch-beggar and his rusty bill.' 4050Bellama did meanwhile what language can, With oilèd words and pity-pleading tears, Beseeching these to free her weddèd man. But to her voice they cottoned had their ears, Until an Angel did appear unto them, And with his goldy looks and music woo them. Then did they yield to let them go away, And they meantime would feign a deading sleep. They for a second licence would not stay, But hasting out along the ditches creep. 4060And as they went a raddle-man they meet, Whom with kind airs and highway phrase they greet. And, greeting past, Albino did require To change apparel with him, and his trade, Giving him cash to hasten his desire. 'With all my heart,' the raddle-younker said (Ne'er questioning the cause); 'yet, by the mass, My dames will say I am a podging ass.' Thus changed they clothes and budgets: then with lead On the new tinker's hand Albino made 4070A mark like his, to gull his envious bead. With raddle-crimson then, fit for his trade, He clothed his face, and gave Bellama some, So trudged away, for fear the monk should come. Have you beheld a hound in sudden fright, Whom powder feared, or else the staff did beat, How oft he turns, and looks, yet keeps on flight? So they, with glancing eyes, would oft retreat, Yet movèd forward still as in a ship The pilots backward look, yet forward skip. 4080But our new tinker, swellèd with content, Fearing no colours, to the town did pass, Crying, as he along the hamlet went, 'Ha y' any need ho! of a tinker's brass?' Bardino now returned in a chafe, And ask'd the tinker's name, who answer'd, 'Rafe.' 'Where dwell'st thou?' 'Anywhere?' 'How long Hast tink'ring used?' 'I cannot tell.' Then 'bout the tinker all the monks did throng, Whilst he, poor fellow, thought h' had been in hell. 4090For till that day he never saw such creatures, And what they were he knew not by their features. Bardino fearèd this was but a gull, And says, 'Good fellow, let me see thy hand.' 'I'm not asham'd to show 't, by cock and bull.' Bardino, viewing 't well, espied the brand, And says, 'Sir youth, before you cozened me: But now in sooth I will be meet with thee.' 'Devil or friar, whatsoe'er thou art, What taunting language dost thou give to me? 4100Ha!' quoth the tinker. Quoth Bardino, 'Smart Shall give a comment of my words to thee.' 'Smart?' quoth the tinker. 'Swig for Smart and you: I bid defiance unto all thy crew. Talk not to me of Smart: for if you prate This knotty staff shall bastinado you. I'll set a scarlet cap upon thy pate, And lace thy shoulders with a purple blue.' 'Peace, honest tinker,' say the other monks. 'Aye! I will peace it, if I catch the hunks.' 4110But let the monks and tinker take their chances. We'll view the travels of our raddle-man, With faint Bellam', whom every fear entrances, And every trance does make her roses wan. Thus far their loves have tragi-comic been, Thwarted by Fate and the unconstant Queen. But every planet with kind aspect now Views their long-travelled loves; and Venus' boy Smiles on their wishes with auspicious brow. Now a full harvest must they have of joy, 4120Though sowed with black disasters, dangers, fears, Dispair, hope, doubtings, sad complaints, and tears. For aged Starley's tow'rs (that fatal stage Where Danes did act their juries once in blood, When bellowing cannons belchèd out their rage) Within the kenning of our lovers stood. And the well-tunèd bells did loud proclaim Joy to the lovers in great Hymen's name. A near ally Albino in this town (By order a devout Carthusian) had, 4130Whose voice he hoped with joy their loves should crown. But he, a slave in raddle vestures clad And a ragged Marget seeing, started back, Bidding his knaveship to some other pack. He would have no commerce with such as he, He had no ewes whose backs did want his raddle, And if he over-saucy needs would be, With a good bat he would his gaskins swaddle. 'The Provost Marshal else, if this does fail, Shall show you lodging in the whipstock jail.' 4140This language sounded in Bellama's ears Like the sad voice of death, yet fear no slaughter. To joy straight changed shall be this scene of tears, And stead of grief the child of pleasure, laughter. My promise stands unshaked: for this short anger Brings not their loves nor safeties unto danger. 'Sir,' quoth Albino, 'there was once a time When you esteemed those wingèd minutes sainted You spent with me (when Fortune was in prime), For you and I have better been acquainted; 4150Though some disasters and stern Fate have made Me take this homely garb and homelier trade. Some blood which in your azure channels glide Dwells in my veins: I am Albino hight, And lest you think this smells too much of pride, View this triangle on my able right.' That sight unto rejoicings beat alarms, His kinsman then ensphered him in his arms. So led them both under his archèd roof, Breathing kind welcomes from his courteous lips; 4160Excus'd his ignorance and sharp reproof, Asked what misfortune did his worth eclipse. Demanding how coy Fortune dealt with him, And who she was that was so passing trim? 'Unless high heavens do forbid the bane, This maid shall be my bride, though homely dressed; Clothes oftentimes the purest beauty stain, And Venus most unclothed is clothèd best. Under this roof of rags Bellama dwells, Fraught with diviner worth than nature spells.' 4170'Hymen enrich your wishes with content, As benign heaven has enriched your face With nature's glory, beauty's orient,' Says the Carthusian with a comely grace; 'Thrice welcome! welcome! for your lovely grace Will add a lustre to my homely place.' 'Sir, my endeavours shall be wholly spent Henceforth,' quoth she, 'to recompense your air.' 'This is no time, forsooth, to compliment, Prithee adjourn thy words of courtship, fair, 4180For till our hands be joined as well as hearts I fear', quoth he, 'supplanting Envy's darts. Good cousin, ere the next day's sun be rolled Th' Apogaeum, our meridian point, Favour our wishes with the "have and hold". Tie us so fast fate may not us disjoint. For Envy, like a snake, does crawl about, And winds her tail in where she holes her snout. Omit no nuptial rites; with holy oil Let her anoint the posts, with virgin hand 4190To Janus consecrate the wether's spoil, And to those gods which for our households stand, Procure horn torches to be borne along, And cry "Thalassus!" with a bridal song. Provide me store of nuts to throw about With a full hand unto the gaping boys, That from the tumults of the struggling rout All voices may be damped that speak not joys. Over us two let the same Flamine fall, And let the wheaten cake consummate all. 4200Nor will we manumiss these robes of state, Within whose walls blest safety only dwells. Lest our known faces, and apparel, prate In louder echoes than the marriage bells. Then say, fair lady, truth I do not jeer, Will you be wedded to a scarleteer?' Quoth she, with blushes carpeting her cheek, 'And is that question, prithee, yet to ask? Your worth does merit the unequalled Greek, Without nun-penance or Alcides' task. 4210Then [I] pray you (in truth it is no gull) Will you be married to a tinker's trull?' Thus sleep and mirth did cut the night: and ere The sovereignty was ta'en from Cynthia's horn, When at East's casement newly did appear The orient brightness of the rising morn, Albino rose, and to the church did haste T' un-nun Bellama and ungird her waist. When the Carthusian's voice had crowned their amours With an assurance of Thalassian joys, 4220The air was thinnèd with the joyful clamours (Not of state-satins) but of grammar boys; And our fresh sponsants in that height of mirth To every pleasure gave an easy birth. Now are they landed on the isle of bliss, Where every joy courts their desires with pleasure; Envy did then her snaky train dismiss, For their espousals did all sweet entreasure. Dead grief bequeathed her stings to thorn and thistle. Nor durst a sigh within those borders whistle. 4230Then, as sea-merchants when their reeling galley, Drunk with salt Neptune, hazardeth their breaths, To calm bold tempest and the Triton's valley, Hack on the quiet shore their brackèd sheaths, So did our amorists, half wrack'd with eye-men, Devote their raddle vests to Love and Hymen. Some marrow-lancing eye perchance may quarrel, 'Cause with the bridal torch my muse expires; And in loud jeers his tow'ring voice apparel, Taxing the faintness of my metric fires, 4240Because my lines tread not the common path Of fortune, issue, and appeasing wrath. Perhaps I dare not lengthen out my story With those events succeeding time begot, Lest some disaster should eclipse their glory, And the pure ermines of their pleasures spot. For having screwed them into firm embraces, I will not waken hate or rouse disgraces. Yet beauty (know) when virtue shines upon her, And virtues (know) [when] skin-perfections gloss 'em, 4250Awe Fortune's wrath, and challenge heaven's honour. Hell cannot cancel them, nor Envy dross 'em. Love! if to me the same content thou'lt yield, I'll limn thy mother on Minerva's shield.