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been awoke before,

       And that they have been so we all have read,

       And are to be so, at the least, once more.--

       The door was fasten'd, but with voice and fist

       First knocks were heard, then 'Madam—Madam—hist!

       'For God's sake, Madam—Madam—here 's my master,

       With more than half the city at his back—

       Was ever heard of such a curst disaster!

       'T is not my fault—I kept good watch—Alack!

       Do pray undo the bolt a little faster—

       They 're on the stair just now, and in a crack

       Will all be here; perhaps he yet may fly—

       Surely the window 's not so very high!'

       By this time Don Alfonso was arrived,

       With torches, friends, and servants in great number;

       The major part of them had long been wived,

       And therefore paused not to disturb the slumber

       Of any wicked woman, who contrived

       By stealth her husband's temples to encumber:

       Examples of this kind are so contagious,

       Were one not punish'd, all would be outrageous.

       I can't tell how, or why, or what suspicion

       Could enter into Don Alfonso's head;

       But for a cavalier of his condition

       It surely was exceedingly ill-bred,

       Without a word of previous admonition,

       To hold a levee round his lady's bed,

       And summon lackeys, arm'd with fire and sword,

       To prove himself the thing he most abhorr'd.

       Poor Donna Julia, starting as from sleep

       (Mind—that I do not say—she had not slept),

       Began at once to scream, and yawn, and weep;

       Her maid Antonia, who was an adept,

       Contrived to fling the bed-clothes in a heap,

       As if she had just now from out them crept:

       I can't tell why she should take all this trouble

       To prove her mistress had been sleeping double.

       But Julia mistress, and Antonia maid,

       Appear'd like two poor harmless women, who

       Of goblins, but still more of men afraid,

       Had thought one man might be deterr'd by two,

       And therefore side by side were gently laid,

       Until the hours of absence should run through,

       And truant husband should return, and say,

       'My dear, I was the first who came away.'

       Now Julia found at length a voice, and cried,

       'In heaven's name, Don Alfonso, what d' ye mean?

       Has madness seized you? would that I had died

       Ere such a monster's victim I had been!

       What may this midnight violence betide,

       A sudden fit of drunkenness or spleen?

       Dare you suspect me, whom the thought would kill?

       Search, then, the room!'—Alfonso said, 'I will.'

       He search'd, they search'd, and rummaged everywhere,

       Closet and clothes' press, chest and window-seat,

       And found much linen, lace, and several pair

       Of stockings, slippers, brushes, combs, complete,

       With other articles of ladies fair,

       To keep them beautiful, or leave them neat:

       Arras they prick'd and curtains with their swords,

       And wounded several shutters, and some boards.

       Under the bed they search'd, and there they found—

       No matter what—it was not that they sought;

       They open'd windows, gazing if the ground

       Had signs or footmarks, but the earth said nought;

       And then they stared each other's faces round:

       'T is odd, not one of all these seekers thought,

       And seems to me almost a sort of blunder,

       Of looking in the bed as well as under.

       During this inquisition, Julia's tongue

       Was not asleep—'Yes, search and search,' she cried,

       'Insult on insult heap, and wrong on wrong!

       It was for this that I became a bride!

       For this in silence I have suffer'd long

       A husband like Alfonso at my side;

       But now I 'll bear no more, nor here remain,

       If there be law or lawyers in all Spain.

       'Yes, Don Alfonso! husband now no more,

       If ever you indeed deserved the name,

       Is 't worthy of your years?—you have threescore—

       Fifty, or sixty, it is all the same—

       Is 't wise or fitting, causeless to explore

       For facts against a virtuous woman's fame?

       Ungrateful, perjured, barbarous Don Alfonso,

       How dare you think your lady would go on so?

       'Is it for this I have disdain'd to hold

       The common privileges of my sex?

       That I have chosen a confessor so old

       And deaf, that any other it would vex,

       And never once he has had cause to scold,

       But found my very innocence perplex

       So much, he always doubted I was married—

       How sorry you will be when I 've miscarried!

       'Was it for this that no Cortejo e'er

       I yet have chosen from out the youth of Seville?

       Is it for this I scarce went anywhere,

       Except to bull-fights, mass, play, rout, and revel?

       Is it for this, whate'er my suitors were,

       I favor'd none—nay, was almost uncivil?

       Is it for this that General Count O'Reilly,

       Who took Algiers, declares I used him vilely?

       'Did not the Italian Musico Cazzani

       Sing at my heart six months at least in vain?

       Did not his countryman, Count Corniani,

       Call me the only virtuous wife in Spain?

       Were there not also Russians, English, many?

       The Count Strongstroganoff I put in pain,

       And Lord Mount Coffeehouse, the Irish peer,

       Who kill'd himself for love (with wine) last year.

       'Have I not had two bishops at my feet,

       The Duke of Ichar, and Don Fernan Nunez?

       And is it thus a faithful wife you treat?

       I wonder in what quarter now the moon is:

       I praise your vast forbearance not to beat

       Me also, since the time so opportune

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