Horatian Epode To The Duchess Of Malfi

Duchess:

Who am I?

Bosola:

Thou art a box of worm-seed, at best but asalvatory of green mummy.

The stage is about to be swept of corpses.

You have no more chance than an

Lodged in a hollow molar of an eohippus.

Come, now, no prattle of remergence with theovtws ov.(Greek word)As (the form requires the myth)A Greek girl stood once in the

Of Carneades, hearing mouthings of Probability,

Then mindful of love dashed her brain on a

So you,

O nameless Duchess who die young,

Meet death somewhat

And I am filled with a pity of beholding skulls.

There was no pride like yours.

Now considerations of the void coming

Not changed by the "strict gesture" of your

Split the straight line of

Into two infinities.

It is moot whether there be

As I finish this play by Webster:

The street-cars are still running

And the katharsis fades in the warm water of a yawn.