Albeit the deep brine of the sea hold thee even to thy waist, nevertheless bear bravely up against conspirings; assuredly shall we shine forth above our enemies as we sail home in open day; while another man of envious eye turneth about in darkness an empty purpose that falleth to the ground.

Deep-rooted in these twain dwelleth an ancient grudge, So that, where'er they happen on their way to meet, Upon her hated rival turneth each her back; Then onward speeds her course with greater vehemence, Shame filled with sorrow, Beauty insolent of mood, Till her at length embraces Orcus' hollow night, Unless old age erewhile her haughtiness hath tamed.

When the wicked turneth from the wickedness that they have committed, they shall save their soul alive.