In this sort spake: "The world's swift course is lawless
And casual; all the stars at random range;[646]
Or if fate rule them, Rome, thy citizens
Are near some plague. What mischief shall ensue?
Shall towns be swallow'd? shall the thicken'd air
Become intemperate? shall the earth be barren?
Shall water be congeal'd and turn'd to ice?[647]
O gods, what death prepare ye? with what plague
Mean ye to rage? the death of many men
Meets in one period. If cold noisome Saturn650