XXX.
To Alfenus the Perjuror.
Alfénus! short of memory, false to comrades dearest-dear,
Now hast no pity (hardened Soul!) for friend and loving fere?
Now to betray me, now to guile thou (traitor!) ne'er dost pause?
Yet impious feats of fraudful men ne'er force the Gods' applause:
5
When heed'st thou not deserting me (Sad me!) in sorest scathe,
Ah say whate'er shall humans do? in whom shall man show faith?
For sure thou bad'st me safely yield my spirit (wretch!) to thee,