1.
I burn with love; — love makes me bold to sing
Praise of the damsel who undoes my heart;
Each time I think a little tender thing
About her, 't is as if my breath would part:
The world her match for beauty cannot bring,
No other eyes such lovely lightnings dart;
In town and tower and city have I been,
But seen none nowhere like my country-queen.
2.
To Monticelli, every market-day,
To Prato, Empoli, and San Casciano,
To Poggibonsi, and to Colle gay,
By San Donato down to Dicamano;
To Castelfranco, all Figline-way;
San Pier', Montagna, Borgo, Gagliano,
Ofttimes I wend, — a-buying and a-selling, —
And Barberin, where my Nenciozza 's dwelling.
3.
But never once — saving at Barberin —
See I a girl so dear, discreet, and taking,
With cheek, and neck, and nape, and dimpled chin
So smooth and white: or of such perfect making.
Her eyes! 't is like torch-light, when feasts begin,
To feel their lids lift, and their glance awaking
Joyance; and 'twixt them comes the winsome nose,
With proud pink nostrils, like the pits in a rose.
4.
Of pink sea-coral are her dear lips dight,
With, underneath, two strings of sea-pearls plenty;
A Tuscan foal's milk-row is not so white!
(To judge thereby my Nencia 's come to twenty.)
Her stainless cheeks have all the softened light
Of misted marble, chiselled smooth and dainty;
Amid the blooms of Beauty she is Rose;
The wide world no such lovely wonder shows!
5.
Beyond all noble fortunes fortunate
He 'll be, who takes her to his happy bosom;
Well might he call his star glorious and great
Whose lot it is to wear this heavenly blossom:
Well may he make his peace thenceforth with Fate,
And lightly bear whatever ills should cross him,
Who clasps fair Nencia as his wedded wife,
White as wild wax, and with love's honey rife!
6.
I 'll liken thee to fairy cloudland gleams
Which mix the welkin and the world together;
I will compare thee unto Dian's beams
Who round poor cabins sheds her silver weather;
Spring-water none so fresh and sparkling seems,
Nor late-trod wine so luscious. Sweet one! whether
Early or late we see thee, 't is as neat
And fair and wholesome as new-bolted wheat!
7.
Her eyes can steal a shepherd's soul away
Through wall of flesh, whenever she doth look;
You see her, and you love, the selfsame day,
Albeit the story goes her heart is rock;
Troops of tamed lovers her behests obey,
And live upon her will, a patient flock:
'T is little she can lose giving one glance,
But, whoso wins it, how his heart doth dance!
8.
La Nencia mia! Ah, the pearl she seems
Going afoot, on Saints' Days, to hear matins!
She wears a bodice which right bravely gleams
Of damask, and a skirt of brightest satins,
A golden girdle clasps her waist, and streams
Down to the knee with jewelled pins and patines;
When she hath heard the Mass, and paceth home,
How like a heavenly angel she doth come!
9.
She hath no fellow at the sheaf-tying,
She works and laughs when all the rest are sped;
Or else at home her merry wheel, fast-flying,
Spins ducats for her with its dancing thread:
For whatso 's deft and rich she will be trying,
Woollen or silk; and all the while her head
Droops like a snow-drop when the neighbors, mustered,
Praise her. She is as sweet as millet-custard!
10.
Thou hast so witched me with thy braided brow
I cannot ply my mattock as before;
For meat and drink I have no stomach now;
No morsel can I swallow any more:
I grow so thin, the withered winter-bough
Lets the blast through it with a sigh less sore:
Nor day nor night repose or comfort brings,
I am so tied to thee by twenty strings.
11.
I am so wild with utter love of thee,
All night I toss and groan and start and sigh;
The kindly gossips say, to comfort me,
" Shepherd! take heart! thou 'lt win her by-and-by. "
The village damsels jest because they see
I go with cornamuse, where thou dost lie,
At eve, and sing for love some little trifle,
But thou dost sleep, or with hushed laughter stifle.
12.
Last night I could not sleep a single wink,
It seemed a thousand years ere dawn would break,
Bethinking thou wouldst take thy flock to drink
At daytime, and wouldst wend down to the lake;
So, not to miss one passing blessed blink
Of those black eyes, I, for their sweet light's sake,
Waited two hours against the bake-house close
Till the full moon set and my Nencia rose.
13.
My Nencia's beauty hath not any blot.
She 's stately, straight and tall as wench can be;
A dimple in her chin my love hath got,
Which makes her bright laugh lovelier to see.
There is no single charm she boasteth not;
I think dame Nature framed her purposely
So fair, so fine, so noble, and so tender,
That all the world might homage to her render.
14.
I culled a posy of snow-blossomed spray,
With buds and berries gathered here and there, —
It was for thee; but thou didst turn away
So grand! not deigning answer, foul or fair.
Then spake I to myself, " My love doth play
The high and mighty; I will match her here! "
And ofttimes since, albeit I turn mine eye,
The folks may see how proud I pass them by.
15.
Yesterday, all day long, I watched for thee
Hard by the mill: I said: " If she comes now
It cannot happen but my chance will be;
The beasts are safe, grazing upon the brow:
We 'll loiter by the kiln, Nencia and me;
We 'll stroll together to the fountain, — thou
And thy Vallera, — under th' hiding vine;
I will tend thy flock and thou shalt herd mine! "
16.
And when at last from your cot-door you came,
Holding the hound from hurrying the sheep,
My heart swelled in my breast, and shook my frame,
While tears of joy down either cheek did creep:
I started for the cross roads, all aflame,
Quickening my calves and heifers up the steep;
And waited on the knoll where thou shouldst pass,
But at the by-path thou didst turn — alas!
17.
When next thou comest with thy water-pot,
Wend, I beseech thee, hither to our well!
I 'll draw for thee, and make all toil forgot:
Who knows but there will be something to tell?
Ofttimes I had a mind to hide it not
When thou wert by, but fear always befell;
Yet, if this is to hap, why linger longer?
The chestnut 's on the bough, the grapes grow stronger!
18.
It was in April that my heart was caught,
The day I saw thee plucking herbs and cresses;
I spake thee fair, but thou didst answer nought
And frowned, because folks passed, tossing thy tresses;
To know thy name and house I vainly sought,
Lest love be lost for what one word expresses;
And from that hour I was no more the same:
I grew thy thrall; thou hadst me, meek and tame.
19.
Nenciozza mia! I have a mind to go —
Now that my beasts are in the will to drink —
Down to the pool, where thou must come, I know,
And there to sit me still upon the brink,
Till I shall spy thee cross. To loiter so
Were pleasant, if it happen as I think.
I 'll stay like stone until my sweet hath passed;
Ah! do not make my watching vain at last!
20.
Nenciozza mia! I go a' Saturday
To sell two loads of wood in Florence-town;
While the sleek heifers cropped the flowers away
I set me yesterday to cut it down.
Ah! if thou'dst come, Dear! — But at least I may
Brings fardels for thee, buttons for thy gown,
Powder, pomander, — not to beautify thee! —
Or pins, or needles: something let me buy thee!
21.
Jove! when she dances, what a step and skill!
What lightness! like a kid's her quick feet fly!
She turns as swiftly as the sails of a mill,
And marks the music, hand and foot and eye:
And, when all 's ended, courtesy low she will
And take two backward steps, so gracefully!
She makes the very prettiest salute,
There 's not in Florence any dame could do 't!
22.
Ask me, Dear! some small trifle from the fair!
What shall I fetch thee, what slight dainty thing?
A brooch of carved shell for my love to wear?
Or hooks and eyes, or buckles, or silk strings?
A broidered gipsire for thy kirtle, Dear!
Or lace to tie thy lappets, shall I bring?
Or wilt thou choose to bind thy bodice close
A cord of sky-blue silk? or none of those
23.
But a long necklace for thy milky throat,
Strung with round coral beads of rosy pink,
All with a cross to swing midway; and, note,
They make them great and small! which dost thou think
The prettier? if my blood could drop, God wot!
Round ruddy beads to please thee, 't would not shrink!
So, if I find thy fancy, hold it thine,
Though I should pawn this jacket, Nencia mine!
24.
If thou shouldst say, when Sieve rolls at flood,
" Fling thyself in! " I'd headlong leap straightway!
If thou shouldst bid so end my life, I would
Dash head against a rock, and die that way!
Command me any deed that seemeth good
In those dear eyes and I shall straight obey.
I know some promise thus abundantly
Who would not spoil a pair of shoes for thee.
25.
Yea! and I know — my Nencia! my heart's treasure!
There's some one whispers thee in my despite:
Let him beware! I 'll give him market measure;
Six inches in his midriff, sharp and bright!
Thou 'st seen the knife I wear! Dio! 't is pleasure
To mark it do its work at feast or fight!
If in my quarters it finds any man,
By God! the steel shall make him skip a span!
26.
Oh, me! a lass like this white maid of mine,
So honey-sweet and winning, ne'er was seen!
She 's lusty, large, and fresh; and still so fine,
So fair and graceful, — of all feasts the queen.
But yet that mirth and modesty combine
To keep her ever all she should have been;
And how her singing all the feast enhances!
And, dancing, how all dancers she outdances!
27.
I too know something! — with the best I'd vie
If, Nencia! I dared open all my heart:
There is no better judge porklings to buy;
I shine at plough and harrow, spade and cart:
When, stripped, I tie my seed-bag on, or ply
The axe, they say, " What a stout wight thou art! "
The mattock and the pick I wield like thunder,
And blow the horn and cow-pipes till you wonder.
28.
But Thou, but thou! Ah, none is like to thee!
A well-scrubbed kneading-trough is not so white!
As syrup draws the flies thou drawest me;
As figs tempt wasps so art thou my delight;
Richer than rape-blooms, sweet as what the bee
Sucks from their gold thou art! Oh, if I might
One kiss of honey from that red mouth rifle,
New goat's cheese after such would seem a trifle.
29.
I 've waited all this while for thee to pass,
Musing my love where the quick waters shine;
My beasts have grazed off every bite of grass,
I must not tarry, or the fools will pine:
What doest, Nencia! not to come? Alas!
I looked to see thy wandering charge and mine
Mix in the willows, then 't were one hour's gain
To let them seem one flock, though we be twain!
30.
Nenciozza mia! 't is time for me to go!
My yearlings must be tethered in the stall,
God be with thee! I send fond farewell so —
Far off; for Mona Masa loud doth call.
My heart stays here! have pity! let me know
Thou giv'st me back some tittle, if not all,
Of thine. Good-by! Good-night! la buona sera!
Sleep soft, and think kind things of thy Vallera!
31.
Nencia! Nenciozza! one day say you will
Climb the hill with me through the willows here!
Promise! say, " Yes, I 'll come! " and fear no ill,
Nenciozza mia! I 'll deserve thee, Dear!
Nencia! I love thee so; my love is still
So great and true, I 'd die to bring thee cheer!
If thou wert stung by some beast fell and frightful,
I 'd suck the poison, and think death delightful!
32.
Or we might meet farther away, where yonder
The sun's eye doth not shine in the green gloom;
Don't say " you could not answer! " do not ponder
If we should hear them when they called from home:
But come, and lift thy hood, and let the wonder
Of thy dark blessed eyes gleam on me! Come!
Eyes which befit thy beauteous breast and brow
Being angelic, and an angel thou.
33.
Cara Nenciozza mia! I hear the bleating
One of thy flock makes in the close below,
Some wolf, may be, is there — killing and eating,
With deadly jaws, thy lambkin. Nay, 't is so!
Wilt thou not take thy staff — wilt thou not? sweeting!
And with me to the lonely valley go,
And strike the caitiff dead? I 'll be with thee!
But all the folk shall say: " She killed him! She! "
34.
Ah, come! I know a nest of speckled thrushes
Ready to fly: the prettiest feathered thing!
'T is hid away in a thick clump of bushes,
There are no caged birds that so sweetly sing!
To-morrow I will show you, for time pushes,
If thou 'dst rear one; and then, Dear! I will bring
An oaten cake; while — for a good excuse —
I shall pass, playing on my cornamuse.
35.
Nenciozza mia! I shall not seem a clown
When I get home my broidered vest to wear,
And lace my shoes, and tie my long hair down,
You 'll take me for a sleek, rich townsman, Dear!
Just now I know I 'm rough about the crown,
The barber asks too much my locks to shear
And curl, but if my marketing goes fairly
I will be barbered properly and rarely.
36.
Farewell! my Lily with the lovely bloom!
I see the beasts are breaking for the wheat;
To-morrow, Nencia! when again I come,
I 'll bring you wild wood strawberries — if they're sweet —
So, when you hear my cornamusa boom,
Trip to the spot we wot, where the roads meet,
At corner of the orchard. I can find
Dittany there for thee, if thou 'st a mind!
37.
I asked thee of thy father — dost thou know?
Old Beco droned me out some doubtful word,
And, taking counsel of thy mother so,
Gave me to understand I 'm not preferred;
Yet look for me to come — ('less thou say'st " no " — )
With such a band some day to catch my bird
That none shall let. I 've told father and mother
Thee I will have for wife, and never other!
38.
Oh, when I see thee compassed round with folk,
Something inside me seems to boil and swim;
But if one makes thee eyes, ah, I could choke,
My heart leaps up my throat to come at him!
Alas! poor heart! by this 't were burst and broke,
So full of thee it is; full to the brim!
But that its thousand sighs, each one an anguish,
Fly all day long to thee, saying " I languish! "
39.
Nenciozza! Come at dinner-time! we 'll eat
Salads together, and, it may be, cheese:
Be sure you keep your word to come, my sweet!
But so that no accursed gossip sees.
I bear my weapons, Dear! if we did meet
Some of old Beco's crew under the trees
There 'd be wild words — I know — and blood, may be; —
The Devil flay them, if they flout at me!
40.
I talk too fierce! Ah, Nencia! — when she goes,
On feast-days, what a pearl of grace she seems!
Smooth, white, and clean, and neat from top to toes:
A little ring on each midfinger gleams.
For she hath store of trinkets, and bestows
So trimly here and there her beauty's beams.
Pearls too — fine pearls — my love wears! Not the best
Can anywhere compare with Nencia dressed!
41.
Ah, Nencia! didst thou know the love immense,
The burning love I bear for those bright eyes,
The tears I pour, the grievous woe intense
That seems to crack and rend me with deep sighs;
If thou knewedst this, and all — thy gentle sense
Would melt — thou wouldst all lesser love despise,
And cry, " My poor Vallera! thou art he
That lov'st me most, thou shalt not woful be! "
42.
I marked thee, Nencia! tripping home that day
From Santo — oh, so splendid! I was dazed.
Thou hadst a mind to take the meadow way
And slipped adown where Beco's asses grazed.
I hid myself; quoth I, " Meet now we may! "
Then while you singing tripped, I, breathless, gazed;
And so drew closer; but ere this could pass
You spied me, and you turned aside, alas!
43.
Nenciozza mia! it made me dumb with pleasure
To see thy rose-fair face even thus near:
If I could once more come so nigh my treasure
I 'd live upon such joy a whole long year!
If I could speak thee forth my love's full measure
Meseems my life's luck would be perfect, Dear!
If in my grasp that dear hand I could hold,
I'd not unclasp, to get mine filled with gold!
44.
I 'm here! but Nencia does not come, nor wake:
Nencia! why art thou such a slug-a-bed?
Thou hearest me; thou know'st that for thy sake
I blow this cornamuse; why art thou hid?
Thou wert not wont such heavy sleep to take!
Pleaseth no more the music, as it did?
All day I conned this gentle strain to sing thee,
I meant it for a charm would surely bring thee.
45.
O heart too hard! what maiden would not render
Love to a lover loving her like me?
Who else would melt not, and wax honey-tender
Seeing me suffer thus? Ah, Nencia! see!
Thou knowest I am so faithful; must it end here
The pain which should be crowned with joy by thee?
Ah, yield a little! one kind thought discover,
Then do with me as pitchforks do with clover!
46.
Nay! when one speaks of forks, how deft she is!
There 's no such nimble worker in the land.
She weaves a hat of straw that way and this,
With knots and ends so dexterously planned,
You never saw such skill! the neighbors press,
To see the plaits obey her cunning hand.
She can make osier-pots, and baskets, too,
And what the best doth, that will Nencia do.
47.
Nencia! ah, Nencia! I do love thee so!
As the poor moth the flame which crisps his wings;
Ah mia Nenciozza! seeking thee I go
As flies to honey, when the sweetness brings
Death. Must I die? Then shine, dear Lantern! oh,
Shed sweet death, Honey! But if better things
Await me, then, kind Love! be this now said
Before the chestnuts fall and grapes grow red.
48.
Peace, poor Vallera! peace, thou foolish youth!
Wasted thy song is, and thy sorrow vain!
It seemed she liked me once, but now, in sooth,
She likes me not, I see: therefore sharp pain
Rives me and drives me, sobbing: for no ruth
My love will show, and these hot tears again
Tell to what anguish I am led, alas!
Who shake with passion, if she only pass.
49.
Nencia! Nenciozza! thou wilt be my death!
Yet so to see me die can please thee not.
Ah, would to God that I could keep my breath
Whilst I drew forth my heart, and laid it hot
Upon thy hand, to hear how its beat saith,
" Nencia! Nenciozza! " — and to witness what
A load it bears! But, if thou didst so take
My heart in hand, 't would sigh, " Keep me! " and break!
50.
Good-by! Nenciozza ! Heaven have guard of thee!
The weary beasts are to their homestead near;
I must not have, for any fault of me,
Some heifer left lowing outside her lair;
The last one now will o'er the river be.
(Yea! yea! Madonna Masa! I can hear!
I come!) Farewell, cold Love! She calls again,
There 's Nanni bustling, and the wine to strain!
I burn with love; — love makes me bold to sing
Praise of the damsel who undoes my heart;
Each time I think a little tender thing
About her, 't is as if my breath would part:
The world her match for beauty cannot bring,
No other eyes such lovely lightnings dart;
In town and tower and city have I been,
But seen none nowhere like my country-queen.
2.
To Monticelli, every market-day,
To Prato, Empoli, and San Casciano,
To Poggibonsi, and to Colle gay,
By San Donato down to Dicamano;
To Castelfranco, all Figline-way;
San Pier', Montagna, Borgo, Gagliano,
Ofttimes I wend, — a-buying and a-selling, —
And Barberin, where my Nenciozza 's dwelling.
3.
But never once — saving at Barberin —
See I a girl so dear, discreet, and taking,
With cheek, and neck, and nape, and dimpled chin
So smooth and white: or of such perfect making.
Her eyes! 't is like torch-light, when feasts begin,
To feel their lids lift, and their glance awaking
Joyance; and 'twixt them comes the winsome nose,
With proud pink nostrils, like the pits in a rose.
4.
Of pink sea-coral are her dear lips dight,
With, underneath, two strings of sea-pearls plenty;
A Tuscan foal's milk-row is not so white!
(To judge thereby my Nencia 's come to twenty.)
Her stainless cheeks have all the softened light
Of misted marble, chiselled smooth and dainty;
Amid the blooms of Beauty she is Rose;
The wide world no such lovely wonder shows!
5.
Beyond all noble fortunes fortunate
He 'll be, who takes her to his happy bosom;
Well might he call his star glorious and great
Whose lot it is to wear this heavenly blossom:
Well may he make his peace thenceforth with Fate,
And lightly bear whatever ills should cross him,
Who clasps fair Nencia as his wedded wife,
White as wild wax, and with love's honey rife!
6.
I 'll liken thee to fairy cloudland gleams
Which mix the welkin and the world together;
I will compare thee unto Dian's beams
Who round poor cabins sheds her silver weather;
Spring-water none so fresh and sparkling seems,
Nor late-trod wine so luscious. Sweet one! whether
Early or late we see thee, 't is as neat
And fair and wholesome as new-bolted wheat!
7.
Her eyes can steal a shepherd's soul away
Through wall of flesh, whenever she doth look;
You see her, and you love, the selfsame day,
Albeit the story goes her heart is rock;
Troops of tamed lovers her behests obey,
And live upon her will, a patient flock:
'T is little she can lose giving one glance,
But, whoso wins it, how his heart doth dance!
8.
La Nencia mia! Ah, the pearl she seems
Going afoot, on Saints' Days, to hear matins!
She wears a bodice which right bravely gleams
Of damask, and a skirt of brightest satins,
A golden girdle clasps her waist, and streams
Down to the knee with jewelled pins and patines;
When she hath heard the Mass, and paceth home,
How like a heavenly angel she doth come!
9.
She hath no fellow at the sheaf-tying,
She works and laughs when all the rest are sped;
Or else at home her merry wheel, fast-flying,
Spins ducats for her with its dancing thread:
For whatso 's deft and rich she will be trying,
Woollen or silk; and all the while her head
Droops like a snow-drop when the neighbors, mustered,
Praise her. She is as sweet as millet-custard!
10.
Thou hast so witched me with thy braided brow
I cannot ply my mattock as before;
For meat and drink I have no stomach now;
No morsel can I swallow any more:
I grow so thin, the withered winter-bough
Lets the blast through it with a sigh less sore:
Nor day nor night repose or comfort brings,
I am so tied to thee by twenty strings.
11.
I am so wild with utter love of thee,
All night I toss and groan and start and sigh;
The kindly gossips say, to comfort me,
" Shepherd! take heart! thou 'lt win her by-and-by. "
The village damsels jest because they see
I go with cornamuse, where thou dost lie,
At eve, and sing for love some little trifle,
But thou dost sleep, or with hushed laughter stifle.
12.
Last night I could not sleep a single wink,
It seemed a thousand years ere dawn would break,
Bethinking thou wouldst take thy flock to drink
At daytime, and wouldst wend down to the lake;
So, not to miss one passing blessed blink
Of those black eyes, I, for their sweet light's sake,
Waited two hours against the bake-house close
Till the full moon set and my Nencia rose.
13.
My Nencia's beauty hath not any blot.
She 's stately, straight and tall as wench can be;
A dimple in her chin my love hath got,
Which makes her bright laugh lovelier to see.
There is no single charm she boasteth not;
I think dame Nature framed her purposely
So fair, so fine, so noble, and so tender,
That all the world might homage to her render.
14.
I culled a posy of snow-blossomed spray,
With buds and berries gathered here and there, —
It was for thee; but thou didst turn away
So grand! not deigning answer, foul or fair.
Then spake I to myself, " My love doth play
The high and mighty; I will match her here! "
And ofttimes since, albeit I turn mine eye,
The folks may see how proud I pass them by.
15.
Yesterday, all day long, I watched for thee
Hard by the mill: I said: " If she comes now
It cannot happen but my chance will be;
The beasts are safe, grazing upon the brow:
We 'll loiter by the kiln, Nencia and me;
We 'll stroll together to the fountain, — thou
And thy Vallera, — under th' hiding vine;
I will tend thy flock and thou shalt herd mine! "
16.
And when at last from your cot-door you came,
Holding the hound from hurrying the sheep,
My heart swelled in my breast, and shook my frame,
While tears of joy down either cheek did creep:
I started for the cross roads, all aflame,
Quickening my calves and heifers up the steep;
And waited on the knoll where thou shouldst pass,
But at the by-path thou didst turn — alas!
17.
When next thou comest with thy water-pot,
Wend, I beseech thee, hither to our well!
I 'll draw for thee, and make all toil forgot:
Who knows but there will be something to tell?
Ofttimes I had a mind to hide it not
When thou wert by, but fear always befell;
Yet, if this is to hap, why linger longer?
The chestnut 's on the bough, the grapes grow stronger!
18.
It was in April that my heart was caught,
The day I saw thee plucking herbs and cresses;
I spake thee fair, but thou didst answer nought
And frowned, because folks passed, tossing thy tresses;
To know thy name and house I vainly sought,
Lest love be lost for what one word expresses;
And from that hour I was no more the same:
I grew thy thrall; thou hadst me, meek and tame.
19.
Nenciozza mia! I have a mind to go —
Now that my beasts are in the will to drink —
Down to the pool, where thou must come, I know,
And there to sit me still upon the brink,
Till I shall spy thee cross. To loiter so
Were pleasant, if it happen as I think.
I 'll stay like stone until my sweet hath passed;
Ah! do not make my watching vain at last!
20.
Nenciozza mia! I go a' Saturday
To sell two loads of wood in Florence-town;
While the sleek heifers cropped the flowers away
I set me yesterday to cut it down.
Ah! if thou'dst come, Dear! — But at least I may
Brings fardels for thee, buttons for thy gown,
Powder, pomander, — not to beautify thee! —
Or pins, or needles: something let me buy thee!
21.
Jove! when she dances, what a step and skill!
What lightness! like a kid's her quick feet fly!
She turns as swiftly as the sails of a mill,
And marks the music, hand and foot and eye:
And, when all 's ended, courtesy low she will
And take two backward steps, so gracefully!
She makes the very prettiest salute,
There 's not in Florence any dame could do 't!
22.
Ask me, Dear! some small trifle from the fair!
What shall I fetch thee, what slight dainty thing?
A brooch of carved shell for my love to wear?
Or hooks and eyes, or buckles, or silk strings?
A broidered gipsire for thy kirtle, Dear!
Or lace to tie thy lappets, shall I bring?
Or wilt thou choose to bind thy bodice close
A cord of sky-blue silk? or none of those
23.
But a long necklace for thy milky throat,
Strung with round coral beads of rosy pink,
All with a cross to swing midway; and, note,
They make them great and small! which dost thou think
The prettier? if my blood could drop, God wot!
Round ruddy beads to please thee, 't would not shrink!
So, if I find thy fancy, hold it thine,
Though I should pawn this jacket, Nencia mine!
24.
If thou shouldst say, when Sieve rolls at flood,
" Fling thyself in! " I'd headlong leap straightway!
If thou shouldst bid so end my life, I would
Dash head against a rock, and die that way!
Command me any deed that seemeth good
In those dear eyes and I shall straight obey.
I know some promise thus abundantly
Who would not spoil a pair of shoes for thee.
25.
Yea! and I know — my Nencia! my heart's treasure!
There's some one whispers thee in my despite:
Let him beware! I 'll give him market measure;
Six inches in his midriff, sharp and bright!
Thou 'st seen the knife I wear! Dio! 't is pleasure
To mark it do its work at feast or fight!
If in my quarters it finds any man,
By God! the steel shall make him skip a span!
26.
Oh, me! a lass like this white maid of mine,
So honey-sweet and winning, ne'er was seen!
She 's lusty, large, and fresh; and still so fine,
So fair and graceful, — of all feasts the queen.
But yet that mirth and modesty combine
To keep her ever all she should have been;
And how her singing all the feast enhances!
And, dancing, how all dancers she outdances!
27.
I too know something! — with the best I'd vie
If, Nencia! I dared open all my heart:
There is no better judge porklings to buy;
I shine at plough and harrow, spade and cart:
When, stripped, I tie my seed-bag on, or ply
The axe, they say, " What a stout wight thou art! "
The mattock and the pick I wield like thunder,
And blow the horn and cow-pipes till you wonder.
28.
But Thou, but thou! Ah, none is like to thee!
A well-scrubbed kneading-trough is not so white!
As syrup draws the flies thou drawest me;
As figs tempt wasps so art thou my delight;
Richer than rape-blooms, sweet as what the bee
Sucks from their gold thou art! Oh, if I might
One kiss of honey from that red mouth rifle,
New goat's cheese after such would seem a trifle.
29.
I 've waited all this while for thee to pass,
Musing my love where the quick waters shine;
My beasts have grazed off every bite of grass,
I must not tarry, or the fools will pine:
What doest, Nencia! not to come? Alas!
I looked to see thy wandering charge and mine
Mix in the willows, then 't were one hour's gain
To let them seem one flock, though we be twain!
30.
Nenciozza mia! 't is time for me to go!
My yearlings must be tethered in the stall,
God be with thee! I send fond farewell so —
Far off; for Mona Masa loud doth call.
My heart stays here! have pity! let me know
Thou giv'st me back some tittle, if not all,
Of thine. Good-by! Good-night! la buona sera!
Sleep soft, and think kind things of thy Vallera!
31.
Nencia! Nenciozza! one day say you will
Climb the hill with me through the willows here!
Promise! say, " Yes, I 'll come! " and fear no ill,
Nenciozza mia! I 'll deserve thee, Dear!
Nencia! I love thee so; my love is still
So great and true, I 'd die to bring thee cheer!
If thou wert stung by some beast fell and frightful,
I 'd suck the poison, and think death delightful!
32.
Or we might meet farther away, where yonder
The sun's eye doth not shine in the green gloom;
Don't say " you could not answer! " do not ponder
If we should hear them when they called from home:
But come, and lift thy hood, and let the wonder
Of thy dark blessed eyes gleam on me! Come!
Eyes which befit thy beauteous breast and brow
Being angelic, and an angel thou.
33.
Cara Nenciozza mia! I hear the bleating
One of thy flock makes in the close below,
Some wolf, may be, is there — killing and eating,
With deadly jaws, thy lambkin. Nay, 't is so!
Wilt thou not take thy staff — wilt thou not? sweeting!
And with me to the lonely valley go,
And strike the caitiff dead? I 'll be with thee!
But all the folk shall say: " She killed him! She! "
34.
Ah, come! I know a nest of speckled thrushes
Ready to fly: the prettiest feathered thing!
'T is hid away in a thick clump of bushes,
There are no caged birds that so sweetly sing!
To-morrow I will show you, for time pushes,
If thou 'dst rear one; and then, Dear! I will bring
An oaten cake; while — for a good excuse —
I shall pass, playing on my cornamuse.
35.
Nenciozza mia! I shall not seem a clown
When I get home my broidered vest to wear,
And lace my shoes, and tie my long hair down,
You 'll take me for a sleek, rich townsman, Dear!
Just now I know I 'm rough about the crown,
The barber asks too much my locks to shear
And curl, but if my marketing goes fairly
I will be barbered properly and rarely.
36.
Farewell! my Lily with the lovely bloom!
I see the beasts are breaking for the wheat;
To-morrow, Nencia! when again I come,
I 'll bring you wild wood strawberries — if they're sweet —
So, when you hear my cornamusa boom,
Trip to the spot we wot, where the roads meet,
At corner of the orchard. I can find
Dittany there for thee, if thou 'st a mind!
37.
I asked thee of thy father — dost thou know?
Old Beco droned me out some doubtful word,
And, taking counsel of thy mother so,
Gave me to understand I 'm not preferred;
Yet look for me to come — ('less thou say'st " no " — )
With such a band some day to catch my bird
That none shall let. I 've told father and mother
Thee I will have for wife, and never other!
38.
Oh, when I see thee compassed round with folk,
Something inside me seems to boil and swim;
But if one makes thee eyes, ah, I could choke,
My heart leaps up my throat to come at him!
Alas! poor heart! by this 't were burst and broke,
So full of thee it is; full to the brim!
But that its thousand sighs, each one an anguish,
Fly all day long to thee, saying " I languish! "
39.
Nenciozza! Come at dinner-time! we 'll eat
Salads together, and, it may be, cheese:
Be sure you keep your word to come, my sweet!
But so that no accursed gossip sees.
I bear my weapons, Dear! if we did meet
Some of old Beco's crew under the trees
There 'd be wild words — I know — and blood, may be; —
The Devil flay them, if they flout at me!
40.
I talk too fierce! Ah, Nencia! — when she goes,
On feast-days, what a pearl of grace she seems!
Smooth, white, and clean, and neat from top to toes:
A little ring on each midfinger gleams.
For she hath store of trinkets, and bestows
So trimly here and there her beauty's beams.
Pearls too — fine pearls — my love wears! Not the best
Can anywhere compare with Nencia dressed!
41.
Ah, Nencia! didst thou know the love immense,
The burning love I bear for those bright eyes,
The tears I pour, the grievous woe intense
That seems to crack and rend me with deep sighs;
If thou knewedst this, and all — thy gentle sense
Would melt — thou wouldst all lesser love despise,
And cry, " My poor Vallera! thou art he
That lov'st me most, thou shalt not woful be! "
42.
I marked thee, Nencia! tripping home that day
From Santo — oh, so splendid! I was dazed.
Thou hadst a mind to take the meadow way
And slipped adown where Beco's asses grazed.
I hid myself; quoth I, " Meet now we may! "
Then while you singing tripped, I, breathless, gazed;
And so drew closer; but ere this could pass
You spied me, and you turned aside, alas!
43.
Nenciozza mia! it made me dumb with pleasure
To see thy rose-fair face even thus near:
If I could once more come so nigh my treasure
I 'd live upon such joy a whole long year!
If I could speak thee forth my love's full measure
Meseems my life's luck would be perfect, Dear!
If in my grasp that dear hand I could hold,
I'd not unclasp, to get mine filled with gold!
44.
I 'm here! but Nencia does not come, nor wake:
Nencia! why art thou such a slug-a-bed?
Thou hearest me; thou know'st that for thy sake
I blow this cornamuse; why art thou hid?
Thou wert not wont such heavy sleep to take!
Pleaseth no more the music, as it did?
All day I conned this gentle strain to sing thee,
I meant it for a charm would surely bring thee.
45.
O heart too hard! what maiden would not render
Love to a lover loving her like me?
Who else would melt not, and wax honey-tender
Seeing me suffer thus? Ah, Nencia! see!
Thou knowest I am so faithful; must it end here
The pain which should be crowned with joy by thee?
Ah, yield a little! one kind thought discover,
Then do with me as pitchforks do with clover!
46.
Nay! when one speaks of forks, how deft she is!
There 's no such nimble worker in the land.
She weaves a hat of straw that way and this,
With knots and ends so dexterously planned,
You never saw such skill! the neighbors press,
To see the plaits obey her cunning hand.
She can make osier-pots, and baskets, too,
And what the best doth, that will Nencia do.
47.
Nencia! ah, Nencia! I do love thee so!
As the poor moth the flame which crisps his wings;
Ah mia Nenciozza! seeking thee I go
As flies to honey, when the sweetness brings
Death. Must I die? Then shine, dear Lantern! oh,
Shed sweet death, Honey! But if better things
Await me, then, kind Love! be this now said
Before the chestnuts fall and grapes grow red.
48.
Peace, poor Vallera! peace, thou foolish youth!
Wasted thy song is, and thy sorrow vain!
It seemed she liked me once, but now, in sooth,
She likes me not, I see: therefore sharp pain
Rives me and drives me, sobbing: for no ruth
My love will show, and these hot tears again
Tell to what anguish I am led, alas!
Who shake with passion, if she only pass.
49.
Nencia! Nenciozza! thou wilt be my death!
Yet so to see me die can please thee not.
Ah, would to God that I could keep my breath
Whilst I drew forth my heart, and laid it hot
Upon thy hand, to hear how its beat saith,
" Nencia! Nenciozza! " — and to witness what
A load it bears! But, if thou didst so take
My heart in hand, 't would sigh, " Keep me! " and break!
50.
Good-by! Nenciozza ! Heaven have guard of thee!
The weary beasts are to their homestead near;
I must not have, for any fault of me,
Some heifer left lowing outside her lair;
The last one now will o'er the river be.
(Yea! yea! Madonna Masa! I can hear!
I come!) Farewell, cold Love! She calls again,
There 's Nanni bustling, and the wine to strain!
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