which, by the way, was evidently to be taken
for granted precisely like the whole long past
of a dream. She had not a good temper.
When the poet groans it seems that she has
laughed at him; when he flouts her, we may
understand that she has chidden her lyrist in
no temperate terms. In doing this she has
sinned not so much against him as against.
Love. With that she is perpetually reproved.
The lyrist complains to Love, pities Love for
her scorning, and threatens to go away with
Love, who is on his side. The sweetest verse
is tuned to love when the loved one proves
worthy.

There is no record of success for this policy.
She goes on dancing or scolding, as the case
may be, and the lyrist goes on boasting of his
constancy, or suddenly renounces it for a day.
The situation has variants, but no surprise or
ending. The lover's convention is explicit
enough, but it might puzzle a reader to account
for the lady's. Pride in her beauty, at any
rate, is hers--pride so great that she cannot
bring herself to perceive the shortness of her
day. She is so unobservant as to need to be
told that life is brief, and youth briefer than
life; that the rose fades, and so forth.

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