XL.
What fatality, what chimera drives thee
Headlong, Ravidus, on to my iambics?
What fell deity, most malign to listen,
Fires thy fury to quarrel unavailing?
5 Wouldst thou busy the breath of half the people?
Break with clamour at any cost the silence?
Thou wilt do it; a wretch that hop'd my darling
Love to fondle, a sure retaliation.