“That incensed female has consigned him to our pleasure.” So spoke. And the noose was over my neck. And another said “Get him plumb in the middle! “Shove along there, shove along!” And another broke in upon this: “He thinks that we are not gods.” “And she has been waiting for the scoundrel, and in a new Sidonian night cap, And with more than Arabian odours, God knows where he has been, She could scarcely keep her eyes open enter that much for his bail. Get along now!” We were coming near to the house, and they gave another yank to my cloak, And it was morning, and I wanted to see if she was alone, and resting, And Cynthia was alone in her bed. I was stupefied. I had never seen her looking so beautiful No, not when she was tunick’d in purple. Such aspect was presented to me, me recently emerged from my visions, You will observe that pure form has its value. “You are a very early inspector of mistresses. “Do you think I have adopted your habits?” There were upon the bed no signs of a voluptuous encounter, No signs of a second incumbent. She continued: “No incubus has crushed his body against me, “Though spirits are celebrated for adultery. “And I am going to the temple of Vesta ...” and so on. Since that day I have had no pleasant nights. XI I The harsh acts of your levity! Many and many. I am hung here, a scare-crow for lovers. 2 Escape! There is, O Idiot, no escape, Flee if you like into Ranaus, desire will follow you thither, Though you heave into the air upon the gilded Pegasean back, Though you had the feathery sandals of Perseus To lift you up through split air, The high tracks of Hermes would not afford you shelter. Amor stands upon you, Love drives upon lovers, a heavy mass on free necks. It is our eyes you flee, not the city, You do nothing, you plot inane schemes against me, Languidly you stretch out the snare with which I am already familiar, And yet again, and newly rumour strikes on my ears, Rumours of you throughout the city, and no good rumour among them. “You should not believe hostile tongues, “Beauty is slander’s cock-shy, “All lovely women have known this,” “Your glory is not outblotted by venom,” “Phoebus our witness, your hands are unspotted,”