“—This precious piece of verse, I really judge
“Is meant to copy my own character,
“A clumsy mimic; and this other prose,
“Not so much even; both rank forgery:
“Verse, quotha? Bembo’s verse! When Saint John wrote
“The tract ‘De Tribus,’ I wrote this to match.”
“—How came it, then, the documents were found
“At the inn on your departure?”—“I opine,
“Because there were no documents to find (1670)
“In my presence,—you must hide before you find.
“Who forged them, hardly practised in my view;
“Who found them, waited till I turned my back.”
“—And what of the clandestine visits paid,
“Nocturnal passage in and out the house
“With its lord absent? ’Tis alleged you climbed …”
“—Flew on a broomstick to the man i’ the moon!
“Who witnessed or will testify this trash?”
“—The trusty servant, Margherita’s self,
“Even she who brought you letters, you confess, (1680)
“And, you confess, took letters in reply:
“Forget not we have knowledge of the facts!”
“—Sirs, who have knowledge of the facts, defray
“The expenditure of wit, I waste in vain,
“Trying to find out just one fact of all!
“She who brought letters from who could not write,
“And took back letters to who could not read,—
“Who was that messenger, of your charity?”
“—Well, so far favours you the circumstance
“That this same messenger … how shall we say? …
“Sub imputatione meretricis (1691)
“Laborat,—which makes accusation null:
“We waive this woman’s:—nought makes void the next.
“Borsi, called Venerino, he who drove,
“O’ the first night when you fled away, at length
“Deposes to your kissings in the coach,
“—Frequent, frenetic …” “When deposed he so?”
“After some weeks of sharp imprisonment …”
“—Granted by friend the Governor, I engage—”
“—For his participation in your flight! (1700)
“At length his obduracy melting made
“The avowal mentioned …” “Was dismissed forthwith
“To liberty, poor knave, for recompense.
“Sirs, give what credit to the lie you can!
“For me, no word in my defence I speak,
“And God shall argue for the lady!”
Did I stand question, and make answer, still
With the same result of smiling disbelief,
Polite impossibility of faith (1710)
In such affected virtue in a priest;
But a showing fair play, an indulgence, even,
To one no worse than others after all—
Who had not brought disgrace to the order, played
Discreetly, ruffled gown nor ripped the cloth
In a bungling game at romps: I have told you, Sirs—
If I pretended simply to be pure,
Honest, and Christian in the case,—absurd!
As well go boast myself above the needs
O’ the human nature, careless how meat smells, (1720)
Wine tastes,—a saint above the smack! But once
Abate my crest, own flaws i’ the flesh, agree
To go with the herd, be hog no more nor less,
Why, hogs in common herd have common rights—
I must not be unduly borne upon,
Who had just romanced a little, sown wild oats,
But ’scaped without a scandal, flagrant fault.
My name helped to a mirthful circumstance:
“Joseph” would do well to amend his plea:
Undoubtedly—some toying with the wife, (1730)
But as for ruffian violence and rape,
Potiphar pressed too much on the other side!
The intrigue, the elopement, the disguise,—well charged!
The letters and verse looked hardly like the truth.
Your apprehension was—of guilt enough
To be compatible with innocence,
So, punished best a little and not too much.
Had I struck Guido Franceschini’s face,
You had counselled me withdraw for my own sake,
Baulk him of bravo-hiring. Friends came round, (1740)
Congratulated, “Nobody mistakes!
“The pettiness o’ the forfeiture defines
“The peccadillo: Guido gets his share:
“His wife is free of husband and hook-nose,
“The mouldy viands and the mother-in-law.
“To Civita with you and amuse the time,
“Travesty us ‘De Raptu Helenœ!”
“A funny figure must the husband cut
“When the wife makes him skip,—too ticklish, eh?
“Do it in Latin, not the Vulgar, then! (1750)
“Scazons—we’ll copy and send his Eminence!
“Mind—one iambus in the final foot!
“He’ll rectify it, be your friend for life!”
Oh, Sirs, depend on me for much new light
Thrown on the justice and religion here
By this proceeding, much fresh food for thought!
In relegation, two short days ago,
Admiring how you read the rules, when, clap,
A thunder comes into my solitude— (1760)
I am caught up in a whirlwind and cast here,
Told of a sudden, in this room where so late
You dealt out law adroitly, that those scales,
I meekly bowed to, took my allotment from,
Guido has snatched at, broken in your hands,
Metes to himself the murder of his wife,
Full measure, pressed down, running over now!
Can I assist to an explanation?—Yes,
I rise in your esteem, sagacious Sirs,
Stand up a renderer of reasons, not (1770)
The officious priest would personate Saint George
For a mock Princess in undragoned days,
What, the blood startles you? What, after all
The priest who needs must carry sword on thigh
May find imperative use for it? Then, there was
A princess, was a dragon belching flame,
And should have been a Saint George also? Then,
There might be worse schemes than to break the bonds
At Arezzo, lead her by the little hand,
Till she reached Rome, and let her try to live? (1780)
But you were the law and the gospel,—would one please
Stand back, allow your faculty elbow-room?
You blind guides who must needs lead eyes that see!
Fools, alike
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