Felix, discoursing with Drusilla, said (For he, by virtue of his being himself, Perforced divined accordingly--amiss) "Much painful cultivation, for no fruit! Paul, turn and turn about, that time did seem His enemy at advantage to have had, And prospect was that Shimei, won to him With all those unexpected services (Sore needed, in such sorry case, no doubt!) Would, could he first make shift to clear _himself_, Right face about at Rome and, far from being An adversary witness against Paul, Swear him snow-white with turncoat testimony. How easily king Jupiter, with that pass Of playful lightning, brought it all to naught!" Said Felix; then, with change abrupt from sneer, Grim added this, in sullen afterthought: "That lightning was a neat dispatch for _him_! I wish that it had fallen on _me_ instead." "Ill-omened from thy lips such words as those," Drusilla answered. "And what love to me Speak they, thy wife and queen--not with her lord Joined in thine imprecation dire of doom? Perhaps indeed we shall be separate In death--with death, despite the difference, But differently horrible to both! For I have _my_ forebodings, bred of thine, And dread to be somehow hereafter caught In some form of calamity unknown But unescapable and horrible And final and fatal as that Shimei's. And what if he, our son (thine image--form, And face, and character, and all) dear pledge To me of love that once his father bore His mother, happy she as worthy judged, Once!--what if he, our little Felix too Be in that dread catastrophe involved!"