2120For what's of Issa and her picture writ
Was found in them, they tasked the poet's wit.
Unto this virgin-cage she fast did pace,
And, knocking at the gate, the porter came,
Who, seeing riches on her back and face,
With humble voice desired to know her name.
'My name (good friend),' quoth she, 'Felice is,
I come to taste your choice monastic bliss.'
'Madam,' Avaro said, 'our rubbish stone
With cement join'd shall precious straight be made,