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LXXXIX. “ That lady is my wife.!Much wonder paints

The lady's changing cheek, as well it might; But where an English woman sometimes faints,

Italian females don't do so outrighit ; They only call a little on their saints,

And then come to themselves, almost or quite; Which saves much hartshorn, salts, and sprinkling faces, And cutting stays, as usual in such cases.

XC.

She said, what could she say? Why not a word :

But the Count courteously invited in
The stranger, much appeased by what he heard :

“ Such things, perhaps, we'd best discuss within,” Said he; 6 don't let us make ourselves absurd

“ In public, by a scene, nor raise a din, “ For then the chief and only satisfaction “ Will be much quizzing on the whole transaction."

XCI.
They enter'd, and for coffee call’d_it came,

A beverage for Turks and Christians both,
Although the way they make it's not the same.

Now Laura, much recover'd, or less loth
To speak, cries “ Beppo! what's your pagan name?

“ Bless me! your beard is of amazing growth!
“ And how came you to keep away so long ?
“ Are you not sensible 'twas very wrong?

VOL. II.

L L

XCII.

And are you really, truly, now a Turk?

“ With any other women did you wive? “ Is 't true they use their fingers for a fork ?

“ Well, that's the prettiest shawl as I'm alive! 66 You 'll give it me? They say you eat no pork. " And how so many years

did you

contrive “ TonBless me! did I ever? No, I never “ Saw a man grown so yellow! How's your liver ?

XCIII.

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“ Beppo! that beard of yours becomes you not;

“ It shall be shaved before you 're a day older : “.Why do you wear it? Oh! I had forgot Pray don't

you

think the weather here is colder ? “ How do I look? You sha'n't stir from this spot

“ In that queer dress, for fear that some beholder 6 Should find you out, and make the story known. “ How short your hair is ! Lord ! how gray it's grown!"

XcIV,

What answer Beppo made to these demands

Is more than I know. He was cast away
About where Troy stood once, and nothing stands;

Became a slave of course, and for his pay
Had bread and bastinadoes, till some bands

Of pirates landing in a neighbouring bay,
He join'd the rogues and prosper'd, and became
A renegado of indifferent fame.

хсу. .

But he grew rich, and with his riches grew so

Keen the desire to see his home again,
He thought himself in duty bound to do so,

And not be always thieving on the main ;
Lonely he felt, at times, as Robin Crusoe,

And so he hired a vessel come from Spain, Bound for Corfu : she was a fine polacca, Mann'd with twelve hands, and laden with tobacco.

XCVI.

Himself, and much (heaven knows how gotten) cash,

He then embark’d, with risk of life and limb, And got clear off, although the attempt was rash;

He said that Providence protected himFor my part, I say nothing, lest we clash

In our opinions:-well, the ship was trim, Set sail, and kept her reckoning fairly on, Except three days of calm when off Cape Bonn.

XCVII.

They reach'd the island, he transferr'd his lading,

And self and live-stock, to another bottom, And pass’d for a true Turkey-merchant, trading

With goods of various names, but I've forgot 'em. However, he got off by this evading,

Or else the people would perhaps have shot him ; And thus at Venice landed to reclaim His wife, religion, house, and Christian name.

XCVIII.

His wife received, the patriarch re-baptized him,

(He made the church a present by the way); He then threw off the garments which disguised him,

And borrow'd the Count's small-clothes for a day: His friends the more for his long absence prized him,

Finding he'd wherewithal to make them gay, With dinners, where he oft became the laugh of them, For stories—but I don't believe the half of them.

XCIX.

Whate'er his youth had suffer'd, his old age

With wealth and talking made him some amends; Though Laura sometimes put him in a rage,

I've heard the Count and he were always friends, My pen is at the bottom of a page,

Which being finish’d, here the story ends ; Tis to wish'd it had been sooner done, But stories somehow lengthen when begun.

NOTES.

Note 1, page 359, last line.
Like the lost Pleiad seen no more below.
“Quæ septem dici sex tamen esse solent.” OVID.

Note 2, page 363, line 16.
His name Giuseppe, called more briefly, Beppo.
Beppo is the Joe of the Italian Joseph.

Note 3, page 367, line 11. The Spaniards call the person a Cortejo." “ Cortejo" is pronounced “Corteho," with an aspirate, according to the Arabesque guttural. It means what there is as yet no precise name for in England, though the practice is as common as in any tramontane country whatever.

Note 4, page 370, line 11.

Raphael, who died in thy embrace. For the received accounts of the cause of Raphael's death, see his Lives.

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