And to his side close-sticking all things questest.
'Tis vain: while lay'st thou snares for me the worst,
By —— I will teach thee first.
An food-full thus do thou, my peace I'd keep:
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But what (ah me! ah me!) compels me weep
Are thirst and famine to my dearling fated.
Cease thou so doing while as modest rated,
Lest to thy will thou win—but ——
Aurelius, father of the famished, in ages past in time now present and in future years yet to come, thou art longing to paedicate my love. Nor is't done secretly: for thou art with him jesting, closely