“‘Oh bello gentile mio Signor’,
Your praise of poverty ’d soon be o’er
If you yourself for a time were poor;
For nothing to eat, and water to drink,
Isn’t so nice as you seem to think,
And a lord who lives in luxury
Don’t know the pressure of poverty.’
“Then all would laugh, and the jolly old lord would sing in his turn:
“‘O charo servitor’,
Tu parli tanto bene,
Ma il tuo parlar
A me non mi conviene.’ . . .“‘My boy, you answer well,
But with false implication;
For what to me you tell
Has no true application;
How oft I heard you say
(You know ’tis true, you sinner!)
“I am half-starved to-day,
How I’ll enjoy my dinner!”
Your hunger gives you health
And causes great delight,
While I with all my wealth
Have not an appetite.’
“Then another servant sang, laughing:
“‘Dear master, proverbs say,
I have heard them from my birth,
That of all frightful beasts
Which walk upon the earth,
Until we reach the bier,
Wherever man may be,
There’s nothing which we fear
So much as poverty.’
“And so one evening as they were merrily improvising and throwing stornelli at one another in this fashion, the Signore went to his street-door, and there beheld three ladies of stately form; for though they were veiled and dressed in the plainest black long robes, it was evident that they were of high rank. Therefore the old lord saluted them courteously, and seeing
that they were strangers, asked them whither they were going. But he had first of all had them politely escorted by his servants into his best reception-room. [3a]
“And the one who appeared to be the chief replied:
“‘Truly we know not where we shall lodge, for in all Florence there is, I trow, not a soul who, knowing who we are would receive us.’
“‘And who art thou, lady?’ asked the Signore. And she replied: