Fire, water, storm, or devil, sacked vines and victual,
Whether the luckless wretch would tythe or till.
Some pensions too, which he possessed, were nought,
And, like the rest, produced him not a groat.
41.
This notwithstanding, he his miseries slighted,
Like happy man, who not too deeply feels;
And all, but most the Roman lords, delighted,
Content in spite of tempests, writs, or seals.
And oftentimes, to make them mirth, recited
Strange chapters upon urinals and eels;*
And other mad vagaries would rehearse.
That he had hitched. Heaven help him! into verse.
* See his Capitoli sugli Orinali, Sulle Anquille, etc.
42.
His mood was choleric, and his tongue was vicious,
But he was praised for singleness of heart;
Not taxed as avaricious or ambitious,
Affectionate, and frank, and void of art;
A lover of his friends, and unsuspicious;
But where he hated, knew no middle part;
And men his malice by his love might rate:
But then he was more prone to love than hate.
43.
To paint his person, this was thin and dry;
Well sorting it, his legs were spare and lean;
Broad was his visage, and his nose was high,
While narrow was the space that was between
His eye-brows sharp; and blue his hollow eye.
Which for his bushy beard had not been seen,
But that the master kept this thicket clear'd,
At mortal war with moustache and with beard.
44.
No one did ever servitude detest
Like him; though servitude was still his dole:
Since fortune or the devil did their best
To keep him evermore beneath controul.
While, whatsoever was his patron's hest,
To execute it went against his soul;
His service would he freely yield, unasked,
But lost all heart and hope, if he were tasked.
45.
Nor musick, hunting-match, nor mirthful measure,
Nor play, nor other pastime moved him aught;
And if 'twas true that horses gave him pleasure,
The simple sight of them was all he sought,
Too poor to purchase; and his only treasure
His naked bed: his pastime to do nought
But tumble there, and stretch his weary length,
And so recruit his spirits and his strength,
46.
Worn with the trade he long was used to slave in,
So heartless and so broken down was he;
He deemed he could not find a readier haven,
Or safer port from that tempestuous sea;
Nor better cordial to recruit his craven
And jaded spirit, when he once was free,
Than to betake himself to bed, and do
Nothing, and mind and matter so renew.
47.
On this as on an art, he would dilate.
In good set terms, and styled his bed a vest.
Which, as the wearer pleased, was small or great.
And of whatever fashion liked him best;
A simple mantle, or a robe of state;
With that a gown of comfort and of rest:
Since whosoever slipt his daily clothes
For this, put off with these all worldly woes.
48.
He by the noise and lights and music jaded
Of that long revel, and the tramp and tread,
(Since every guest in his desires was aided,
And knaves performed their will as soon as said,)
Found out a chamber which was uninvaded.
And bade those varlets there prepare a bed.
Garnished with bolsters and with pillows fair,
At its four borders, and exactly square.
49.
This was six yards across by mensuration,
With sheets and curtains bleached by wave and breeze,
With a silk quilt for farther consolation.
And all things fitting else: tho' hard to please,
Six souls therein had found accommodation
But this man sighed for elbow-room and ease.
And here as in a sea was fain to swim.
Extending at his pleasure length and limb,
50.
By chance with him, to join the fairy's train,
A Frenchman and a cook was thither brought;
One that had served in court with little gain,
Though he with sovereign care and cunning wrought.
For him, prepared with sheet and counterpane.
Another bed was, like his fellow's, sought:
And 'twixt the two, sufficient space was seen
For a fair table to be placed between.
51.
Upon this table, for the pair to dine.
Were savoury viands piled, prepared with art;
All ordered by this master-cook divine;
Boiled, roast, ragouts and jellies, paste and tart:
But soups and syrups pleased the Florentine,
Who loathed fatigue like death, and for his part.
Brought neither teeth nor fingers into play;
But made two varlets feed him as he lay
52.
Here couchant, nothing but his head was spied,
Sheeted and quilted to the very chin;
And needful food a serving man supplied
Thro' pipe of silver, placed the mouth within.
Meantime the sluggard moved no part beside.
Holding all motion else were shame and sin;
And (so his spirits and his health were broke)
Not to fatigue this organ, seldom spoke.
53.
The cook was master Peter hight, and he
Had tales at will to while away the day;
To him the Florentine: "Those fools, pardie,
"Have little wit, who dance that endless Hay;"
And Peter in return, "I think with