Page:Victor Hugo's Works (Guernsey Edition) v14.djvu/38

20

They are happy!

Why?

They have a new mistress every month,

And each month's mistress no two nights alike.

But jesters can find mistresses, it seems,

As well as poets. There's Torelli swears

Bertuccio has one, and that you know it.

I know he has a rare maid close mewed up,

But whether wife or daughter—

Tell not me!

A mistress for a thousand! But what of her?

How did you find her out?

'T was some weeks since,

Attending vespers in your house's chapel,

At San Costanza, I beheld a maiden

Kneeling before that picture of Our Lady

By Fra Filippo,—oh, so fair, so rapt

In her pure, passionate prayers! I tell you, sirs,

I was nigh going on my knees beside her,

And asking for an interest in her orisons:

Such eyes of softest blue, crowned with such wreaths

Of glossy chestnut hair; a cheek of snow

Flushed tenderly, as when the sunlight strikes

Upon an evening alp; and over all,

A grace of maiden modesty that lay