40
“This Folk, these Sons of me, for whom I pour the tear that trickleth bootless ’fore thy sight, whose woe, since wish’d them well, I work the more when my good wishes but thy wrath excite: For them I weep, for them thine aid implore, and thus, in fine, with adverse fate I fight: But now, because my love ill-fortune bears, I will to will them ill and weal be theirs.