Felt scorn in every look, endured the stare
Of wondering fools, who never felt a care;
On me all eyes were fix’d, and I the while
Sustain’d the insult of a rival’s smile.
“And shall I now—entangled thus my foe—
My honest vengeance for a boy forego? 470
A boy forewarn’d, forearm’d? Shall this be borne,
And I be cheated, Charles, and thou forsworn?
Hope not, I say, for thou mayst change as well }
The sentence graven on the gates of hell— }