A SINGLE blow he patiently endured; The second, howsoe'er, his patience cured; The third was more severe, and each was worse; The punishment he now began to curse; Two lusty wights, with cudgels thrashed his back And regularly gave him thwack and thwack; He cried, he roared, for grace he begged his lord, Who marked each blow, and would no ease accord; But carefully observed, from time to time, That lenity he always thought sublime; His gravity preserved; considered too The blows received and what continued due. AT length, when Greg'ry twenty strokes had got, He piteously exclaimed:--if more's my lot I never shall survive! Oh! pray forgive, If you desire, my lord, that I should live. Then down with thirty pounds, replied the peer, Since you the blows so much pretend to fear; I'm sorry for you; but if all the gold Be not prepared, your godfather, I'm told, Can lend a part; yet, since so far you've been, To flinch the rest you surely won't be seen. THE wretched peasant to his lordship flew, And trembling cried--'tis up! the number view! A scrutiny was made, which nothing gained; No choice but pay the money now remained; This grieved him much, and o'er the fellow's face; The dewy drops were seen to flow apace. All useless proved:--the full demand he sent, With which the peer expressed himself content. Unlucky he whoe'er his lord offends! To golden ore, howe'er, the proud man bends: 'TWAS vain that Gregory a pardon prayed; For trivial faults the peasant dearly paid; His throat enflamed--his tender back well beat-- His money gone--and all to make complete, Without the least deduction for the pain, The blows and garlick gave the trembling swain. THE MULETEER THE Lombard princes oft pervade my mind; The present tale Boccace relates you'll find; Agiluf was the noble monarch's name; Teudelingua he married, beauteous dame, The last king's widow, who had left no heir, And whose dominions proved our prince's share. No Beauty round compare could with the queen; And ev'ry blessing on the throne was seen, When Cupid, in a playful moment, came, And o'er Agiluf's stable placed his flame; There left it carelessly to burn at will, Which soon began a muleteer to fill, With LOVE'S all-powerful, all-consuming fire, That naught controls, and youthful breasts desire.