To Roger, John, and all the others.
All this was natural enough
To any female of urbanity;—
But holy men are made of as frail stuff
As all the lighter sons of Vanity!—
And these her Ladyship’s chaste condescensions,
In Friar John bred damnable desire;
Heterodox, unclean intentions;—
Abominable in a Friar!
Whene’er she greeted him, his gills grew red,