By ‘Cupiditate’ (his words) ‘et Amore,’[4]
The hearts of the damsels they ruthlessly task’d,
And finally gain’d twice as much as they ask’d.
Ah, sigh not to think that in Love’s stricken field,
The maidens of Ferques were so ready to yield;
For Livy declares that no maid can withstand
The wooer who comes with such arms in his hand.
They’re pleasant to talk of, but ’neath them doth lurk
A peril not felt less at Rome than at Ferques.
The banquet was sped, and the floor being clear’d,