Chapter XL

What fatality, what chimera drives thee
Headlong, Ravidus, on to my iambics?

What fell deity, most malign to listen,
Fires thy fury to quarrel unavailing?

Wouldst thou busy the breath of half the people? 5
Break with clamour at any cost the silence?

Thou wilt do it; a wretch that hop'd my darling
Love to fondle, a sure retaliation.