Chapter L

1.

Dear Lucinius, yestereve we linger'd
Scrawling fancies, a hundred, in my tablets,
Wits in combat; a treaty this between us.

Scribbling drolleries each of us together
Launched one arrowy metre and another, 5
Tenders jocular o'er the merry wine-cup.

2.

So quite sorely with all your humour heated
Gay Lucinius, I that eve departed.

Food my misery could not any lighten,
Sleep nor quiet upon my eyes descended. 10

Still untamable o'er the couch did I then
Turn and tumble, in haste to see the day-light,
Hear your prattle again, again be with you.

3.

Then, when weary with all the worry, numb'd, dead,
Sank my body, upon the bed reposing, 15
This, O humorous heart, did I, a poem
Write, my tedious anguish all revealing.

O beware then of hardihood; a lover's
Plea for charity, dear my friend, reject not:
What if Nemesis haply claim repayment? 20
She is tyrannous. O beware offending.