LXXXIX. "That lady is my wife!" Much wonder paints 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: The stranger, much appeased by what he heard: Said he; "don't let us make ourselves absurd 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? "Well, that's the prettiest shawl as I'm alive! "You'll give it me? They say you eat no pork. "And how so many years did you contrive "To Bless me! did I ever? No, I never "Saw a man grown so yellow! How's your liver? XCIII. "Beppo! that beard of yours becomes you not; 66 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 "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 XCV. But he grew rich, and with his riches grew so And so he hired a vessel come from Spain, XCVI. Himself, and much (heaven knows how gotten) cash, XCVII. They reach'd the island, he transferr'd his lading, 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 My pen is at the bottom of a page, Which being finish'd, here the story ends; 'Tis to be 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. His name Giuseppe, called more briefly, Beppo. 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. |