And, with a voice shrill and as fierce as thunder,
Sware she would knap their silly loves in sunder.
Those scarlet gowns which doom offenders' death,
Or the proscriptions of the Roman state,
Had not the tithe of that affrighting breath,
1380Although they weak'ned hell and threat'ned Fate,
As had these words which feeble love did shiver,
Snap his weak strings, and crack his emptied quiver.
But, all this while, Albino sate with pleasure,
And on his trencher joy and mirth attend;