He curses the tablets which he has sent, because his mistress has written an answer on them, in which she refuses to grant his request.

Lament my misfortune; my tablets have returned to me with sad intelligence. Her unlucky letter announces that she cannot be seen to-day. There is something in omens; just now, when she was preparing to go, NapÈ stopped short, having struck her foot 178 against the threshold. When sent out of doors another time, remember to pass the threshold more carefully, and like a sober woman lift your foot high enough.

Away with you; obdurate tablets, fatal bits of board; and you wax, as well, crammed with the lines of denial. I doubt the Corsican bee 180 has sent you collected from the blossom of the tall hemlock, beneath its abominable honey.

Besides, you were red, as though you had been thoroughly dyed in vermilion; 181 such a colour is exactly that of blood. Useless bits of board, thrown out in the street, there may you lie; and may the weight of the wheel crush you, as it passes along. I could even prove that he who formed you to shape from the tree, had not the hands of innocence. That tree surely has afforded a gibbet for some wretched neck, and has supplied the dreadful crosses 182 for the executioner. It has given a disgusting shelter to the screeching owls; in its branches it has borne the eggs of the vulture and of the screech-owl. 183 In my madness, have I entrusted my courtship to these, and have I given soft words to be thus carried to my mistress?

These tablets would more becomingly hold the prosy summons, 184 which some judge 185 pronounces, with his sour face.