Book V, 179

By Cypris, Love, I will throw them all in the fire, thy bow and Scythian quiver charged with arrows. Yea, I will burn them, by—. Why laugh so sillily and snicker, turning up thy nose? I will soon make thee laugh to another tune. I will cut those rapid wings that show Desire the way, and chain thy feet with brazen fetters. But a sorry victory shall I gain if I chain thee next my heart, like a wolf by a sheep-fold. No! be off! thou art ill to conquer; take besides these light, winged shoes, and spreading thy swift wings go visit others.