To think me wrong, although I shut my lips,
Because a “why” of thus and thus much drams
Is lacking me when you would weigh my word.
It’s true enough, if birds refuse to fly
As pleases you, when questioned by your seer,
That you can launch a single shot from bow
And scatter them, as many have done in wrath.
But does the ill-luck they portended come
The less for that? Then do not say to me,
“What would you? He is valiant, good, and true!”