And your little scope, by their eyes' full sway,
And your little grace, by their grace embodied,
And your little date, by their forms that stay.
You would fain be kinglier, say, than I am?
Even so, you will not sit like Theseus.
You would prove a model? The Son of Priam
Has yet the advantage in arms' and knees' use.
You 're wroth—can you slay your snake like Apollo?
You 're grieved—still Niobe's the grander!
You live—there's the Racers' frieze to follow: