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a year.) If I remonstrate, he will confess all to the good bishop-you!

Mon. I see thro' the trick, caitiff! I would you spoke truth for once; all shall be sifted, however—seven times sifted.

Inten. And how my absurd riches encumbered me! I dared not lay claim to about half my possessions. Let me but once unbosom myself, glorify Heaven, and die!

Sir, you are no brutal, dastardly idiot like your brother I frightened to death-let us understand one another. Sir, I will make away with her for you the girl-here close at hand; not the stupid obvious kind of killing; do not speak-know nothing of her or me! I see her every day-saw her this morning: of course there is to be no killing; but at Rome the courtesans perish off every three years, and I can entice her thither -have, indeed, begun operations already. There's a certain lusty, blue-eyed, florid-complexioned, English knave I and the Police employ occasionally.-You assent, I perceive-no, that's not it-assent I do not say-but you will let me convert my present havings and holdings into cash, and give me time to cross the Alps? 'Tis but a little black-eyed, pretty singing Felippa, gay silk-winding girl. I have kept her out of harm's way up to this present; for I always intended to make your life a plague to you with her! 'Tis as well settled once and forever: some women I have procured will pass Bluphocks, my handsome scoundrel, off for

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somebody; and once Pippa entangled!--you conceive? Through her singing? Is it a bargain?

(From without is heard the voice of PIPPA singing

Over-head the tree-tops meet—

Flowers and grass spring 'neath one's feet-
There was nought above me, and nought below,
My childhood had not learned to know!
For, what are the voices of birds

-Ay, and of beasts, but words—our words,
Only so much more sweet?

The knowledge of that with my life begun!
But I had so near made out the sun,

And counted your stars, the Seven and One,

Like the fingers of my hand:

Nay, I could all but understand

Wherefore through heaven the white moon ranges ;

And just when out of her soft fifty changes

No unfamiliar face might overlook me-
Suddenly God took me !

(PIPPA passes.)

Mon. [Springing up.] My people-one and allall-within there! Gag this villain-tie him hand and foot! He dares-I know not half he dares-but remove him-quick! Miserere mei, Domine! quick, I say!

PIPPA's Chamber. She enters it.

The bee with his comb,

The mouse at her dray,

The grub in its tomb,

Wile winter away ;

But the fire-fly and hedge-shrew and lob-worm, I pray,

How fare they?

Ha, ha, best thanks for your counsel, my Zanze

"Feast upon lampreys, quaff the Breganze "----
The summer of life's so easy to spend,

And care for to-morrow so soon put away!
But winter hastens at summer's end,
And fire-fly, hedge-shrew, lob-worm, pray,
How fare they?

No bidding me then to . . what did she say?

"Pare your nails pearlwise, get your small feet shoes
“More like . . (what said she?)—and less like canoes—-”
How pert that girl was !—would I be those pert
Impudent staring women! it had done me,
However, surely no such mighty hurt

To learn his name who passed that jest upon me:
No foreigner, that I can recollect,

Came, as she says, a month since, to inspect

Our silk-mills-none with blue eyes and thick rings
Of English-coloured hair, at all events.

Well-if old Luca keeps his good intents,

We shall do better: see what next year brings!

I may buy shoes, my Zanze, not appear
More destitute than you, perhaps, next year!
Bluph... something! I had caught the uncouth name

But for Monsignor's people's sudden clatter

Above us-bound to spoil such idle chatter

As ours; it were, indeed, a serious matter
If silly talk like ours should put to shame
The pious man, the man devoid of blame,
The . . . ah, but—ah, but, all the same,
No mere mortal has a right

To carry that exalted air;

Best people are not angels quite—

While not the worst of people's doings scare
The devils; so there's that proud look to spare !
Which is mere counsel to myself, mind! for
I have just been the holy Monsignor!

And I was you too, Luigi's gentle mother,
And you too, Luigi !—how that Luigi started
Out of the Turret-doubtlessly departed
On some good errand or another,

For he past just now in a traveller's trim,
And the sullen company that prowled
About his path, I noticed, scowled

As if they had lost a prey in him.
And I was Jules the sculptor's bride,
And I was Ottima beside,

And now what am I ?-tired of fooling!
Day for folly, night for schooling!

New year's day is over and spent,
Ill or well, I must be content!

Even my lily's asleep, I vow:

Wake up-here's a friend I've pluckt you !
See-call this flower a heart's-ease now!
And something rare, let me instruct you,

Is this-with petals triply swollen,
Three times spotted, thrice the pollen,
While the leaves and parts that witness
The old proportions and their fitness
Here remain, unchanged unmoved now—
So call this pampered thing improved now!
Suppose there's a king of the flowers.
And a girl-show held in his bowers—
"Look ye, buds, this growth of ours,"
Says he, "Zanze from the Brenta,
I have made her gorge polenta
Till both cheeks are near as bouncing
As her... name there's no pronouncing!
See this heightened colour too—
For she swilled Breganze wine

Till her nose turned deep carmine-
'Twas but white when wild she grew!
And only by this Zanze's eyes

Of which we could not change the size,
The magnitude of what's achieved
Otherwise, may be perceived!"

Oh what a drear, dark close to my poor day!
How could that red sun drop in that black cloud!
Ah, Pippa, morning's rule is moved away,
Dispensed with, never more to be allowed,
Day's turn is over-now arrives the night's-
Oh, Lark, be day's apostle

To mavis, merle and throstle,

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