So far as I conceive the world’s rebuke
To him addressed who would recast her new,
Not from herself her fame of strength she took,
But from their weakness who would work her rue.
“Behold,” she cries, “so many rages lulled,
So many fiery spirits quite cooled down;
Look how so many valors, long undulled,
After short commerce with me, fear my frown!
Thou too, when thou against my crimes wouldst cry,
Let thy foreboded homage check thy tongue!”—
The world speaks well; yet might her foe reply,
“Are wills so weak? then let not mine wait long!
Hast thou so rare a poison? let me be
Keener to slay thee, lest thou poison me!”