2330And, groping in the dark, her foot did slip,
Which out o' th' barrels made the bullets skip.
Felice, at that thunder-clap amazed,
With haste retired from the porter's cell,
And meeting her, on one another gazed.
The porter, starting up, did ring the bell,
The virgins shrieked, which all made murmurs shrill
Like Irish hubbubs in pursuit of ill.
When reason somewhat had becalmed their rage,
The abbotess Felice sharply checked.