"And, in avengement of their bold attempt, Both sun and starres and all the heavenly powres Conspire in one to wreake their rash contempt, And downe on them to fall from highest towres: 580 The skie, in pieces seeming to be rent, Throwes lightning forth, and haile, and harmful showres, That death on everie side to them appeares, In thousand formes, to worke more ghastly feares.

Proud lyres with thine immortal praises glow, Smitten by bards elate with victory: Lo, thine own Cavalcante, stormfully Lightning, still strikes the fortress of the foe!