To the maids of Saint Rèmy
All the gallants go for pleasure;
To the maids of Saint Rèmy—
Tripping to love's measure!
To the dames of Avignon
All the masters go for wiving;
To the dames of Avignon—
That shall be their shriving!
(He goes to the Loggia as they gayly applaud. Then Lello cries:)
Lello. Ho-ho! Petrarca! Pagan! are you in?
What! are you sonnet-monger?[16]
Petrarca. Ai, ai, aih!
(Motions Gherardo—who goes.)
Lello. Come then! Your door is locked! down! let us in!
(Rattles it.)
Petrarca. No, ribald! hold! the key is on the sill!
Look for it and ascend!
(Orso enters.)
Stay, here is Orso!