Chapter 169 of 1964 · 65 words · ~1 min read

CLV.

"At least, perhaps, he has not sixty years, At that age he would be too old for slaughter, Or for so young a husband's jealous fears-- (Antonia! let me have a glass of water.) I am ashamed of having shed these tears, They are unworthy of my father's daughter; My mother dreamed not in my natal hour, That I should fall into a monster's power.