Ul.O would that I
Were young as thou, and in my present mood;
That I were this Ulysses or his son:
Far rather would I die slain in my halls
By my thick foes, than see this reckless wrong;
My good farms plundered, and my herds devoured,
My red wine wasted, and my handmaidens
Hither and thither haled about, at will
Of such a rabble as fear not God nor man,
Spoilers and robbers, who have set their hearts