2840The famine wherewithal the Thracian knight
Was sent to Pluto wants a little weight.
He that stole fire fro' th' chariot of the Sun,
Whose liver's vulture-gnawn at Caucasus;
He that the counsels of the gods unspun,
Like wanton's eyes, stone-rolling Sisyphus;
Hold best proportion with these sharp'ned woes,
Which stern misfortune on Felice throws.
She, that was glutted with most curious cates,
Had every pleasure to content her lust,