4 The monastery of the Observance here referred to would appear to be that at Ferrara, founded by Duke Hercules I., father of the Marchioness of Mantua.  The name of “Observance” was given to those conventual establishments where the rules of monastic life were scrupulously observed, however rigorous they might be.  The monastery of the Observance at Ferrara belonged to the Franciscan order, reformed by the Pope in 1363.—­D. and L.

The Warden, who had known him in former days, at first thought he was being laughed at or was dreaming, for there was none in all the land that less resembled a Grey Friar than did this gentleman, seeing that he was endowed with all the good and honourable qualities that one would desire a gentleman to possess.  Albeit, after hearing his words and beholding the tears that flowed (from what cause he knew not) down his face, the Warden compassionately took him in, and very soon afterwards, finding him persevere in his desire, granted him the cloth:  whereof tidings were brought to the Marquis and Marchioness, who thought it all so strange that they could scarcely believe it.

Pauline, wishing to show herself untrammelled by any passion, strove as best she might to conceal her sorrow, in such wise that all said she had right soon forgotten the deep affection of her faithful lover.  And so five or six months passed by without any sign on her part, but in the meanwhile some monk had shown her a song which her lover had made a short time after he had taken the cowl.  The air was an Italian one and pretty well known; as for the words, I have put them into our own tongue as nearly as I can, and they are these:—­

     What word shall be
     Hers unto me,
     When I appear in convent guise
     Before her eyes?

     Ah! sweet maiden,
     Lone, heart-laden,
     Dumb because of days that were;
     When the streaming
     Tears are gleaming
     ’Mid the streaming of thy hair,
     Ah! with hopes of earth denied thee,
     Holiest thoughts will heavenward guide thee
     To the hallowing cloister’s door. 
     What word shall be, &c.

     What shall they say,
     Who wronged us, they
     Who have slain our heart’s desire,
     Seeing true love
     Doth flawless prove,
     Thus tried as gold in fire? 
     When they see my heart is single,
     Their remorseful tears shall mingle,
     Each and other weeping sore. 
     What word shall be, &c.

     And should they come
     To will us home,
     How vain were all endeavour! 
     “Nay, side by side,
     “We here shall bide
     “Till soul from soul shall sever. 
     “Though of love your hate bereaves us
     “Yet the veil and cowl it leaves us,
     “We shall wear till life be o’er.” 
     What word shall be, &c.