Elizabeth In Italy

'Suddenly she slapped me, hard across the face.
I implored, but she declined to have any further
Social or sexual (so she put it) intercourse with me.
Neither would she give me either a personal picture
Or a lock of her most beautiful hair.
Ideed, she demanded, her exquisite voice
Quite hard, the return of her handkerchief
And any other things (I murmered, "mementoes,"
But she repeated "things") I might have stolen
From her in my priviledged position as her servant.
God only knew what had made her ask me
Fetch her the bathrobe that terrible night.
("That beautiful night," I recollected aloud.)
Did I believe our positions were reversed?
(I whitened at the accusation.) Well, then,
She wished to make clear now and for so long
As the relstionship ("Madam!" cried I) lasted,
That it could only do so if I went to bed first,
Where she would come home at her pleasure.
I could make no clearer sign of my heartfelt
Gratitude and infinite relief at these words
Than by the impassioned and repeated kissing,
There and then, of her magnificent left breast
Which had come out hiding towards the end
Of her peroration. Whereupon she slapped me again.'

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