Now greatest spectacles the Prætor sends,
Four chariot-horses from the lists' even ends.
I see whom thou affect'st: he shall subdue;
The horses seem as thy[359] desire they knew.
Alas, he runs too far about the ring;
What dost? thy waggon in less compass bring.70
What dost, unhappy? her good wishes fade:
Let with strong hand the rein to bend be made.
One slow we favour, Romans, him revoke:
And each give signs by casting up his cloak.