Yet not alone of this, her crag Chinaean abiding
Under, a watch-tower set warily, Brixia tells,
Brixia, trails whereby his waters Mella the golden,
Mother of her, mine own city, Verona the fair.
Add Postumius yet, Cornelius also, a twice-told 35
Folly, with whom our light mistress adultery knew.
Asks some questioner here "What? a door, yet privy to lewdness?
You, from your owner's gate never a minute away?
Strange to the talk o' the town? since here, stout timber above you,
Hung to the beam, you shut mutely or open again." 40
Many a shameful time I heard her stealthy profession,
While to the maids her guilt softly she hinted alone.
Spoke unabash'd her amours and named them singly, opining
Haply an ear to record fail'd me, a voice to reveal.
There was another; enough; his name I gladly dissemble; 45
Lest his lifted brows blush a disorderly rage.
Sir, 'twas a long lean suitor; a process huge had assail'd him;
'Twas for a pregnant womb falsely declar'd to be true.