Up Into the Pear Tree

Heather Dale

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.