XVI.

I'll traduce you, accuse you, and abuse you, Soft Aurelius, e'en as easy Furius. You that lightly a saucy verse resenting, Misconceit me, sophisticate me wanton.

Know, pure chastity rules the godly poet, 5 Rules not poesy, needs not e'er to rule it; Charms some verse with a witty grace delightful? 'Tis voluptuous, impudent, a wanton.

It shall kindle an icy thought to courage, Not boy-fancies alone, but every frozen 10 Flank immovable, all amort to pleasure.

You my kisses, a million happy kisses, Musing, read me a silky thrall to softness? I'll traduce you, accuse you, and abuse you.