THE CALL TO ARMS.

Then like the Spartans lived the Modenese

Unfortified, without a parapet;

So shallow were the fosses that with ease

Men might run in and out early or late;

The Great Bell’s toll now echoed on the breeze,

And up from bed jumped all the people straight;

Summoned to arm, some bolted quick downstairs,

Some to the windows rushed—and some to prayers.

Some snatched a shoe and slipper, some in haste

Had only one leg stockinged, others again

In petticoats turned inside out were dressed,

Lovers exchanged their shirts; some with disdain

Took frying-pans for shields, and forward pressed

With buckets on for helms, others were fain

To brandish hedge-bills, and in breast-plates bright

Ran swaggering to the Square, prepared for fight.

There had the Potta, ready at his post,

The City Standard valorously spread;

Himself on horseback armed, and he could boast

Bright scarlet breeches, shoes too, lively red:

41The Modenese, abridging, to their cost,

Potestà, wrote but Potta in its stead;

And hence the Bolognese in joke had got a

Cognomen, and they called his Mayorship Potta!

Messer Lorenzo Scotti, sage and strong,

Was Potta then, and suits at law decided;

Now foot and horsemen, a promiscuous throng,

All hurry to the Square, and these divided

Are posted at the gateways; from among

The rest a chosen squadron is confided

To Rangon’s son Gherardo,—to his hand

The Standard too is given and chief command.

Alessandro Tassoni.