160
Heaved the loud sigh, and poured the glistering tear:
His daughters Three, save one alone, conspire
(Rich in his gifts) to spurn their generous sire;
Bid the rude storm his hoary tresses drench,
Stint the spare meal, the hundred knights retrench;
165
Mock his mad sorrow, and with altered mien
Renounce the daughter, and assert the queen.
A father’s griefs his feeble frame convulse,