When as the matron's busy eyes had read
Love on her cheeks in bloody letters writ,
She asked her why blind folly thus had led
Her reason 'gainst religion, state, or wit?
Or, if she needs must love, why did she scowl
1370Upon state-satins, and embrace a cowl?
Bellama to excuses tuned her air,
Framing pretences for her amorous faith,
But yet, alas! such was Pazzella's care,
From her excuses she withheld her faith.