But that a father durst dishonour the bed of his first-born,Folk all swear, and the house hapless with incest bewray;Or that his impious mind was blunt with fiery passionOr that his impotent son sprang from incapable seed.And to be sought was one with nerve more nervous endowèd,Who could better avail zone of the virgin to loose.

Quintus.'Sooth, of egregious sire for piety wondrous, thou tellest,Who in the heart of his son lief was . . . !Yet professed herself not only this to be knowing, Brixia-town that lies under the Cycnean cliff,Traversed by Mella-stream's soft-flowing yellow-hued current,Brixia, Vérona's mother, I love for my home.

Door.Eke of Posthumius' loves and Cornelius too there be tattle,With whom dared the dame evil advowtry commit.

Quintus.Here might somebody ask :—" How, Door, hast mastered such matter?Thou that canst never avail threshold of owner to quit,Neither canst listen to folk since here fast fixt to the side-postsOnly one office thou hast, shutting or opening the house."

Door.Oft have I heard our dame in furtive murmurs o'er telling,