ENGLISH COURTSHIP

[First published in The Liberal, No. IV, 1823. Reprinted 1857, 1860. No variants.] Dialogue between a Chair in Italy and a Gentleman from England.

CHAIR

WHAT is the reason, Sir, that every day

You load me thus for nothing, hours and hours?

Is this the manner, pray,

Of making love in that cold clime of yours?

You may be heavy for a century,

And get no further with the lovely she.

GENTLEMAN

And hast thou too conspired against me, chair?
I love, 'tis true-too true-and dare not say it:
But surely my whole air,

My looks, my very silence, all display it:
Every one, doubtless, must perceive the fire,
That gnaws and eats me up with fierce desire.

CHAIR

For God's sake, speak then, or you'll never do:
What you do now by the fair lady's side,

I boast of doing too :

It makes me mad to find you thus tongue-tied,—
To see you sit and stare, like a stuck pig.
You make me speak myself, who am but fig.

Title English Courtship not in 1823.

ΤΟ

LEARNING TUSCAN

Dialogue between the Poet and his Florentine Laundress, Nera Colomboli. [First published in The Liberal, No. IV, 1823.

Reprinted 1857, 1860. No variants.]

A. WHY, Mistress Nera, what the devil's here?
To bring my stockings home at last undone ?

N. Undone ! Ah! God knows, if I've sewn and sewn ;
But they so spider-web, it's a despair.

A. So spider-web, schoolmistress! Why, that's queer.
N. How? Anything that we put off and on,

And wear and wear, till all the stuff is gone,
Dosen't it spider-web? I think it's clear.

A. Spider-web? I don't take it; what d'ye mean?
N. Lord bless me, Sir, break me a spider's web,
And see if I can sew it up again.

A. Ah! It is I that am the unlicked cub.
I grow grey writing Tuscan, but in vain :
A sorry graft, fit only for the grub.

Title Learning Tuscan not in 1823.

Sub-title the Poet] Alfieri 1823.

GALGANO

'OH ORANGES'

[First published in The Indicator, July 5, 1820. Not reprinted.]

Он oranges, sweet oranges,

Plumpy cheeks that peep in trees,

The crabbed'st churl in all the south
Would hardly let a thirsty mouth
Gaze at ye, and long to taste,
Nor grant one golden kiss at last.

La, la, la, la sol fa mi—

My lady looked through the orange-tree.

Yet cheeks there are, yet cheeks there are,
Sweeter-Oh good God, how far!—
That make a thirst like very death

Down to the heart through lips and breath;
And if we asked a taste of those;

The kindest owners would turn foes.

O la, la-la sol fa mi

My lady's gone from the orange-tree.

PAZZI

COMIC SONNET

[First published in The Book of the Sonnet, 1867.]

THE 'Eyes' of Petrarch have been read by Varchi,
And Varchi has put out the poor man's eyes,
As any one may see that has no eyes;
A thing, I must say, not becoming Varchi,
People used formerly to think that Varchi

Was of the Tuscan tongue the very eyes;

One that saw all things, though he shut his eyes;
A point on which they were deceived in Varchi:
So now, whereas all used to long for Varchi,
And not a soul could satiate his eyes,

Or cease vociferating Varchi, Varchi,
Nobody thinks it worth troubling his eyes
To give, as he goes by, one glance at Varchi;
So that poor Varchi fain would have no eyes.

ΤΟ

ΤΟ

ANONYMOUS

THE VENETIAN FISHERMAN

[First published in The Liberal, No. IV, 1823. Not reprinted.]

[The burden, With your gallant going vessel,' is repeated at the end of every two lines.]

OH, fisher of the waters, Fidelin,
Come fish for me, I pray,
With your gallant going vessel,
With your gallant pull away.
La ra lo, la ra lay.

And what am I to fish for?
Oh, a ring I've lost to-day;
A hundred crowns I'll give thee,
And a purse both rich and gay.

Oh, a hundred crowns I'll have not,
Nor a purse both rich and gay;
Lady, I'll have a kiss of love,
And that shall be my pay.

FROM THE FRENCH

THIEBAULT, KING OF NAVARRE, TO HIS LOVE

ΤΟ

[MS. in British Museum. Add. MS. 37210 ff. 116-19. First published in The Indicator, November 15, 1820. Not Reprinted.]

CLEMENT MAROT

ON THE LAUGH OF MADAME D'ALBRET

[First published in The Examiner, April 4, 1824. Reprinted 1832-60. Text 1832-60.]

YES, that fair neck, too beautiful by half,

Those eyes, that voice, that bloom, all do her honour:
Yet after all, that little giddy laugh

Is what, in my mind, sits the best upon her.

Good God! 'twould make the very streets and ways
Through which she passes, burst into a pleasure!
Did melancholy come to mar my days,

And kill me in the lap of too much leisure,

No spell were wanting, from the dead to raise me,
But only that sweet laugh, wherewith she slays me.

I fair] white 1824. 1824.

10

2 Those . . . bloom] That voice, that tint, those eyes 3 Yet after all] and yet in truth 1824. 6 burst] break 1824. 10 wherewith] with which 1824.

THE ABBÉ AND HIS VALET

[First published in The Tatler, October 1, 1830. Reprinted 1860. No variants.]

MONSIEUR the Abbé, and Monsieur his valet,

Suit one another like straws in a pallet:
One's a whole fool, and t'other's a half;

One must be rallying, t'other must laugh;

One must have good wine, t'other hates bad,

And yet t'other morning, they quarrelled like mad;
For Monsieur the Abbé, in bed as he lies,

Must have his wine by him, or surely he dies;
While Monsieur his valet can sleep not a wink,
As long as he knows there's a drop left to drink.

A COURT LOVE-LESSON

10

[First published in The Companion, April 9, 1828. Reprinted 1832-60. Text 1832-60.]

A SWEET'No, no,'-with a sweet smile beneath,
Becomes an honest girl: I'd have you learn it :-

As for plain 'Yes,' it may be said, i'faith,

Too plainly and too oft :-pray, well discern it.

Not that I'd have my pleasure incomplete,

Or lose the kiss for which my lips beset you ;

But that in suffering me to take it, sweet,

I'd have you say, 'No, no, I will not let you.'

Title Yes and No 1828 A Love-Lesson 1844-60.

6 lose] baulk 1828.

BROTHER LUBIN

[First published in The Companion, April 9, 1828; not reprinted.]

To shuffle to town twenty times in a day,
Why or wherefore, no one can tell,

To do any thing which nobody may,
Brother Lubin will do very well.

But in a right conversation to dwell.

Or in a life that's wholesome withal,

That's for the Christians that heed the gospel;
Brother Lubin will not do at all.

To put (in a proper, thief-like style)
Another man's property in his own cell,

And leave you without either cross or pile,
Brother Lubin will do very well.

To get and to keep he proceedeth pell-mell,
And on his creditors loudly to call;

ΤΟ

But to restore what might fill a nut-shell,
Brother Lubin will do not at all.

To lure some young damsel, by dint of a tongue,
Out of the fair house where she doth dwell,
No need of a crone that ought to be hung;
Brother Lubin will do very well.

Sermons with him are not things to spell :
But to drink clear good water, pray call
Your dog to drink it, for I can foretell
Brother Lubin will not drink it at all.

ENVOY

Sooner than good to do ill withal,
Brother Lubin hath a natural call;
But if there's any good work to pursue,
Brother Lubin is one that won't do.

TO A LADY WHO WISHED TO SEE HIM

20

[First published in The Tatler, September 23, 1830; reprinted in The Correspondence, 1862, ii. 299. No variants.]

SHE loved me, as she read my books,

And wished to see my face;

Grey was my beard, and dark my looks;

They lost me not her grace.

O gentle heart, O noble brow,

Full rightly didst thou see;

For this poor body, failing now,

Is but my jail, not me.

Those eyes of thine found hope, and youth,
And vigour in my page;

And saw me better there in truth,

Than through the mists of age.