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Italian, too, and did on Dante dote,

And metaphysics studied, but by rote,

For mental subtleties she was too young,

And was to Hella’s songs too often turning.

Anacreon she knew by heart and set

His lyric and erotic odes to tunes,

And most of all she did with fondness love

His ἐραςμίη πέλεια—the dove

Of Venus, odorous with sweet perfumes,

Her payment for the poet’s canzonet.

And like an Amathusia she seemed,

To fond Sordino, who had ne’er beheld

Such loveliness of mind and body wed,

And then he knew that ’mid the past and dead

Of his own life, no being had compelled

His love like she whom he a goddess deemed.

But when he saw her father’s jealous care,

He did not dare his hand to tender her,

But first of all sought to ingratiate

Himself to both, but most to the sedate,

Pedantic scholar, ready to concur

In all his views, though fallacy lay bare.

Thus suavity did win the learned man,

And he became Sordino’s ardent friend,

And asked him to return with them to Wien,

Another thing he failed not to agree in,