Up Into the Pear Tree

The young Madonna Lydia went out to take a stroll

Upon the arm of Don Ambruglio, her newly wedded lord.

Their serving man was Pyrrhus that day, as chance

befell

and though he was the husband’s man, he longed to be

her man as well.

Sweetly said Madonna with a twinkle in her eye,

“I see a tree hung low with fruit; and oh! The highest

one is ripe.”

The Don looked sagely upward, and he nodded his assent

And so the servant stripped to shirt and hose, and up

the tree he went.

Up into the pear tree was handsome Pyrrhus sent

And there he thought of a clever plan, and this is how

it went

When the noble pair below were seated on the ground,

From up above, young Pyrrhus made a show of shyly

looking down

“My lord, I cannot blame you -- but it seems to me

unwise

To kiss your wife so boldly here, and right before a

servant’s eyes!”

Ambruglio was taken aback, “My boy, what’s that you

say?

My wife and I are sitting here, and not entwined in

Cupid’s play.”

Said Pyrrhus, soul of innocence, “My eyes cannot agree.

But here, come up and take my place, my lord – perhaps

it is the tree.”

So up into the pear tree the foolish husband went

While Pyrrhus thought of the prize below and hastened

his descent

There’s nothing quite as pleasant as a summer’s warm

embrace

And when the Don looked down he saw the ardent lovers

face to face

But to his cries the two below said simply, “What’s the

fuss?

Just as before, a yard or more still separates the two

of us.”

The Don gasped, “It’s a miracle! Let’s cry it in the

town!”

But with a smile, Madonna said, “I think that you

should cut it down;

What good’s a tree which lays a doubt on wives of good

repute?

But Pyrrhus here has earned my gratitude for fetching

me my fruit!”

So Pyrrhus felled the pear tree, as was his first

intent

And once he’d finished his sweaty work, his vigour was

all but spent.

The wondrous tree was lost; Ambruglio ne’er guessed the

game

But still the tale went far and wide and garnered him a

certain fame

Lydia was happy with this pleasant stroke of luck

And always called upon her Pyrrhus when she had some

fruit to pluck.

And up into her pear tree was handsome Pyrrhus sent

For there he’d thought of a clever plan, and that was

how it went.