XLII.

1.

Come all hendecasyllables whatever, Wheresoever ye house you, all whatever.

I the game of an impudent adultress? She refuse to return to me the tablets Where you syllable? O ye can't be silent. 5 Up, have after her, ask renunciation.

Would ye know her? a woman, you shall eye her Strutting loftily, whiles she laughs a loud laugh Vast and vulgar, a Gaulish hound beseeming. Form your circle about her, ask her, urge her. 10

'Hark, adulteress, hand the note-book over. Hark, the note-book, adultress, hand it over.'

2.

What? you scorn us? O ugly filth, detested Trull, whatever is all abomination.

Nay then, louder. Enough as yet it is not. 15 If this only remains, perhaps the dog-like Face may colour, a brassy blush may yield us. Swell your voices in higher harsher yellings,

'Hark, adulteress, hand the note-book over; Hark, the note-book; adultress, hand it over.' 20

Look, she moves not at all: we waste the moments. Change your quality, try another issue. Such composure a sweeter air may alter. 'Pure and virtuous, hand the note-book over.'