I care not for the fan or mask, Which well my face protecteth; In every season of the year I undergo my labor; No shower nor wind at all I fear, If summer's heat my beauty stain, Sith I can wash it off again With a cup of Christmas liquor. From a black-letter copy in the Assigns of Symcocke. O had I beforehand But known of this Rosa, Of fair Finojosa : Her very great beauty To do as I would! I have said more, O fair one, Translation of T. Roscoe. LOPE DE MENDOZA, 1398-1459 SERVIAN SONG OF THE PEASANT'S WIFE. Come, companion, let us hurry, Said that I had beat my husband, When, poor soul, I had not touched him; Only bid him wash the dishes, And he would not wash the dishes; Translated by TALVI, LINES. She dwelt among the untrodden ways, A maid whom there were none to praise, And very few to love: |