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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=365769" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>La Maitresse</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">By the Convent of St. Mary<br>In the town of La Rochelle, <br>I would sit there, patient, waiting<br>'Til I heard the chapel bell, <br>Then I'd climb up on the ivy<br>That was clinging to the wall, <br>Hang on tight and peer on over<br>Breathless, hoping not to fall! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I was just a young subaltern<br>In the army of the crown, <br>Sent to seize all those heretics<br>Who sought refuge in the town, <br>And the daughters of those nobles<br>Who refused the marriage vow<br>When required to marry Catholics - <br>I had to hunt them down.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then these girls were bound and taken <br>To the convent, where they lay, <br>Forced to take up holy orders<br>And then locked in cells away, <br>They'd be held 'til they recanted<br>And embraced the Holy See, <br>If these Protestants resisted<br>Then they'd have to deal with me! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">So it was I met the woman<br>Who entranced me with her eyes, <br>She had such a sweet demeanor, <br>She had seemed so calm and wise, <br>But she said that she had trusted<br>In the Lord, his saving grace, <br>And abjured the Pope, his function, <br>To recant would mean disgrace.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then I'd see her in her habit<br>Being led to Holy Mass, <br>They had bound her wrists together<br>They had chained her at the waist, <br>And the only time I saw her<br>When they led her from her cell, <br>Was when peering from the ivy<br>As they rang the chapel bell.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As a soldier then, my duty<br>Was to do as I was told, <br>But I cared for no religion<br>As I cared for Ann Moreau, <br>For her humble disposition, it<br>Had softened up my heart, <br>And the more I saw her suffer there, <br>The more I fell apart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I knew the Father Grandier<br>Who ruled this den of Nuns, <br>His word was law within those halls, <br>His forté, arrogance! <br>He'd tour the cells, both day and night<br>And make them kneel, and pray! <br>The lime-pit by the chapel burned<br>The evidence away! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For months I spied on Ann Moreau, <br>Who hung her head in shame, <br>She had no-one to listen to her pleas, <br>No-one to blame.<br>I saw her swell with child as she<br>Was dragged by chain to Mass, <br>And there were times she faltered, <br>And she fell there, on the grass.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My heart, it almost burst in grief, <br>For Grandier was the man, <br>Each Nun had carried to full term<br>This rake's own contraband, <br>Each tiny corpse was set in lime, <br>Each Nun locked in her cell, <br>Until she'd sworn her penitence<br>Before this rake from hell.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In port there was an English ship, <br>The Captain craved for gold, <br>He'd long been known to carry folk<br>To freedom, in his hold, <br>He wanted fifty Louis<br>All I'd saved in seven years, <br>My love was brimming over<br>So I purchased her a berth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At night I scaled the ivied wall, <br>Sought out her tiny cell, <br>The Abbess saw me wandering<br>And thought to ring her bell, <br>I quietened and I bribed her then, <br>I'd free her of the man<br>Who'd made her life a living hell, <br>I knew she'd understand! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">She opened up the iron door<br>And called to Ann Moreau, <br>'You must be quick, you have a friend<br>Who wants to let you go! '<br>She struggled through the doorway<br>And she laughed in her surprise, <br>And my love settled deeply<br>In the pain around her eyes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We made it to the ship within<br>An hour of hoisting sail, <br>So I hid her in a stowage, in<br>The bows, beneath a bale, <br>Then I bid her travel safely and<br>I walked back to the deck, <br>When a voice said: 'You'll look pretty<br>With a rope around your neck! '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It was Grandier, the Pastor<br>With the Abbess by his side, <br>He had threatened her with<br>Excommunication if she lied.<br>'So you'd better take me to her, <br>She's my mistress, as you know, <br>It would be a Christian folly<br>If I let my charges go! '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I shrugged, and led him to the hold, <br>It wasn't very deep, <br>'You'll have to crawl along the back, <br>She's probably asleep.'<br>He got into the hold and crawled<br>Between the bales and deck, <br>I nodded to the Abbess who <br>Stood silently, and wept.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A party of Dragoons rode up, <br>'To search the ship, ' they said, <br>'We hear a Protestant's aboard, <br>Stand back, or lose your head! '<br>I pointed to the stern, and said: <br>He's down there, getting cold! '<br>They drew their swords and thrust them<br>Through the planking to the hold.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We heard a shriek, then silence, <br>And a sword was dripping blood, <br>They dragged the body out, and cursed, <br>Then tossed it in the mud, <br>'Another cheats the hangman, let him rot, '<br>The Colonel said, <br>'It's enough he's a heretic, <br>Well he was... but now he's dead! '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I never saw my Ann again, <br>They sailed upon the tide, <br>I heard the ship had foundered<br>Off the beachhead, next to Hythe, <br>And every soul but one was lost...<br>I'd give my life to know, <br>Just who was washed ashore alive, <br>My guess is, Ann Moreau.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'm just a young subaltern<br>In the army of the crown, <br>And still seize those heretics who<br>Seek refuge in the town, <br>I'm busy hanging protestants<br>Who won't recant, or fold, <br>But then, I'm just a soldier and<br>I do as I am told! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">5 February 2010</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=David+Lewis+Paget">David Lewis Paget</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=365769" data-title="La Maitresse de David Lewis Paget" data-description="By the Convent of St. Mary
In the town of La Rochelle, 
I would sit there, patient, waiting
'Til I heard the chapel bell, 
Then I'd climb up on the ivy
That was clinging to the wall, 
Hang on tight and peer on over
Breathless, hoping not to fall! ..."></div>
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