I am, in truth, of humble blood-- The gentleman is far too good-- Nor gems nor trinkets are my own.
Oh 'tis not the mere ornaments alone; Her glance and mien far more betray. Rejoiced I am that I may stay.
Would I could happier tidings show! I trust mine errand you'll not let me rue; Your husband's dead, and greeteth you.
Is dead? True heart! Oh misery! My husband dead! Oh, I shall die!
I for this cause should fear to love. The loss my certain death would prove.
Joy still must sorrow, sorrow joy attend.
At Padua, in St. Anthony's, In holy ground his body lies; Quiet and cool his place of rest, With pious ceremonials blest.
Oh yes! one grave and solemn prayer; Let them for him three hundred masses sing! But in my pockets, I have nothing there.
No trinket! no love-token did he send! What every journeyman safe in his pouch will hoard There for remembrance fondly stored, And rather hungers, rather begs than spend!
Madam, in truth, it grieves me sore, But he his gold not lavishly hath spent. His failings too he deeply did repent, Ay! and his evil plight bewail'd still more.
Alas! That men should thus be doomed to woe! I for his soul will many a requiem pray.
A husband you deserve this very day; A child so worthy to be loved.
Ah no, That time hath not yet come for me.
If not a spouse, a gallant let it be. Among heaven's choicest gifts, I place, So sweet a darling to embrace.
I stood by his bedside. Something less foul it was than dung; 'Twas straw half rotten; yet, he as a Christian died. And sorely hath remorse his conscience wrung. "Wretch that I was," quoth he, with parting breath, "So to forsake my business and my wife! Ah! the remembrance is my death. Could I but have her pardon in this life!"--
Dear soul! I've long forgiven him, indeed!
"Though she, God knows, was more to blame than I."
He lied! What, on the brink of death to lie!
If I am skill'd the countenance to read, He doubtless fabled as he parted hence.-- "No time had I to gape, or take my ease," he said, "First to get children, and then get them bread; And bread, too, in the very widest sense; Nor could I eat in peace even my proper share."
What, all my truth, my love forgotten quite? My weary drudgery by day and night!
Not so! He thought of you with tender care. Quoth he: "Heaven knows how fervently I prayed, For wife and children when from Malta bound;-- The prayer hath heaven with favor crowned; We took a Turkish vessel which conveyed Rich store of treasure for the Sultan's court; Its own reward our gallant action brought; The captur'd prize was shared among the crew, And of the treasure I received my due."