Xii

It did so: for, pat to the purpose Through causes I need not examine, There fell upon Siena a famine. In vain did the magistrates busily Seek succor, fetch grain out of Sicily, Nay, throw mill and bakehouse wide open-- Such misery followed as no pen Of mine shall depict ye. Faint, fainter Waxed hope of relief: so, our painter, Emboldened by triumph of recency, How could he do other with decency Than rush in this strait to the rescue, Play schoolmaster, point as with fescue To each and all slips in Man's spelling The law of the land?--slips now telling With monstrous effect on the city, Whose magistrates moved him to pity As, bound to read law to the letter, They minded their hornbook, no better.