Ye gods! and shall he go, and mock our royal power?
Why not to arms and send our forces in pursuit,
And bid them hurry down the vessels from the shore?
Ho there, my men, quick, fetch the torches, seize your arms,
And man the oars!—What am I saying? where am I?
What madness turns my brain? O most unhappy queen,
Is it thus thy evil deeds are coming back to thee?
Such fate was just when thou didst yield thy scepter up.—
Lo, there ‘s the fealty of him who, rumor says,
His country’s gods with him in all his wandering bears