All have their fooleries—not alike are thine,

Fair Cadiz, rising o'er the dark blue sea![89]

Soon as the Matin bell proclaimeth nine,

Thy Saint-adorers count the Rosary:

Much is the Virgin teased to shrive them free

(Well do I ween the only virgin there)

From crimes as numerous as her beadsmen be;

Then to the crowded circus forth they fare:

Young, old, high, low, at once the same diversion share.