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Said he: “O San Michele ed ogni santi !

“ Ahi! maladette sian le averse stelle ! “Son rovinato !-Ruthless Fates, why can't ye

Spare me these fearful buffets ? O che belle “ Nozze mi son fatte omai !” With such rant, he

Expressed his rage: but I must plainly tell ye, That were his whole speech here 'twould be intolerable; And, to report it, I am not a scholar able.


“ Solo per maritarmi io son venuto

“ In Inghilterra, ed ecco è tutto guasto “ L'affare! Oime se avessi conosciuto

“ Un poco più le donne, e il genio vasto “ C'hanno per la menzogna! Ma ho perduto

“ In vano il lavoro mio; ed io non basto “ Ad ingannarle ancora, io semplicetto !" This was his best hit in the wordy set-to.


Well tired, at length, he listened to his lady

Who thus exhorted him : “I really wonder “ Much at this scene: for shame, sir, be more steady.

“ 'Tis plain that each of us has made a blunder, “ In trying to grow richer : and I'm ready

“ To break the bonds of wedlock you groan under: “So, if you please, pack up, and on the morrow “ Abscond; but think not that I'll die of sorrow.”


Her husband brightened at this hint, and swore

By six or seven saints, that he would never Desert so generous a spouse. Much more

Was said, upon this subject, than shall ever Appear in print. When their discourse was o'er,

They gave themselves to Sleep, the sweet deceiver. Next morn the lady, waking all alone, Found her advice was ta'en-her husband gone.


I need not mind describing how well tempered

The widowed wife appeared, at this discovery. Some say she laughed, and no one says she whimpered:

But, certainly, as to her quondam lover, he
Cared not a fig whether she wept or simpered;

But, casting off all care, away he drove, very
Gaily, no more with matrimony hampered,
And, once again, in search of fortune scampered.


The parted couple did not meet with any

Adventure worth recounting, till some winters Had turned, on springs, to summers just as many.

So, reader, as you would not care three splinters
To hear of them meanwhile, (and, to be plain, I

Am longing to be ready for the printers,)
We'd better skip the intervening period,
And come, at once, to something that is very odd.


My heroine, having become governante,

By some chance, to an English merchant's daughters, Sailed with them to the fruitful isle of Zante,

Where dwelt their father; and, while on the waters,

Began to tell how her perfido amante

Had gone to seek his fortune, while she sought her’s. This tale the listeners did much admire at, Till seamen bawled on deck: “We're chased--a pirate!"


Then was the tale cut shorter. The young women

Grew suddenly devout; their prayers they prayed, As fast as lightning; and, as fast, the seamen

Uttered loud oaths above. The captain bade All sails be crowded; but the Osmanlimen

Gained fast upon the fugitives dismayed, Who soon agreed that, without more hubbubbing, 'Twere best to yield, and save themselves a drubbing.



The first shot struck their mainsail; shot the second

Took off the carpenter's best leg, ('twas timber ;) The third shot killed the cook who had not reckoned

On such, and was just killing a fine limber
Turkey. The fourth discharge swept clean the deck, and

Gave Pat Mulroony somewhat to remimber.
So they lay to, with marvellous docility,
After those little symptoms of hostility.


The flag is struck; no more the Christian men try

To flee; no more the bullets whiz and whistle. And now the blustering copper-coloured gentry,

With turbaned heads, and chins of roughest bristle, On board the prize make their triumphal entry,

Looking as grim as if their hearts were gristle, And straight began to rummage and to rifle, Which terrified the females not a trifle.

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