We begged our bread devoid of home,
Our goods not worth a hackle-comb.
No husband had I ever wed,
But hither came as I have said,
Torn, worn, and scratched with many a briar.
Walk warily
Most earnestly do I desire,15240
Fair son, that you should learn of me
Wisely to walk and warily.
And thus my sad experience
May to your youth be shield and fence.
For when your Rose is withered quite,
And raven locks exchanged for white,
Then will you lack the gifts that snow
On every side around you now.
The Author.
Thus the Duenna preached and prosed,
To which Fair-Welcome nought opposed,15250
But gladly gave the sermon ear,
Feeling of her less dread and fear
Than he had done in time gone by;
For now it seemed, assuredly,
That but for Jealousy’s ill-will
And those three porters who fulfil
Her hestings (three at least alive
Who still with mad endeavour strive
To hold the fort), but light it were
To take the stronghold unaware,15260
But yet he doubts that scarce can be.
While it is watched so studiously.
