Then, crying from her door, “Farewell till eve,”
True to her sex, unanswer’d yet assured,
The woman left.
XIII.
And so my will was caught,
The net so deftly drawn, I flounder’d first,
Then, resting, smiled. We fight the hydra, we,
Who war against our nature. Every head
That reason clove would rise redoubled there.
Forsooth, my rudeness:—that should be explain’d;