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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=521175" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Alexander VI Dines with the Cardinal of Capua</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Next, then, the peacock, gilt <br>With all its feathers. Look, what gorgeous dyes <br>Flow in the eyes! <br>And how deep, lustrous greens are splashed and spilt <br>Along the back, that like a sea-wave's crest <br>Scatters soft beauty o'er th' emblazoned breast! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">A strange fowl! But most fit <br>For feasts like this, whereby I honor one <br>Pure as the sun! <br>Yet glowing with the fiery zeal of it! <br>Some wine? Your goblet's empty? Let it foam! <br>It is not often that you come to Rome! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">You like the Venice glass? <br>Rippled with lines that float like women's curls, <br>Neck like a girl's, <br>Fierce-glowing as a chalice in the Mass? <br>You start -- 'twas artist then, not Pope who spoke! <br>Ave Maria stella! -- ah, it broke! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Tis said they break alone <br>When poison writhes within. A foolish tale! <br>What, you look pale? <br>Caraffa, fetch a silver cup! . . . You own <br>A Birth of Venus, now -- or so I've heard, <br>Lovely as the breast-plumage of a bird. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Also a Dancing Faun, <br>Hewn with the lithe grace of Praxiteles; <br>Globed pearls to please <br>A sultan; golden veils that drop like lawn -- <br>How happy I could be with but a tithe <br>Of your possessions, fortunate one! Don't writhe </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But take these cushions here! <br>Now for the fruit! Great peaches, satin-skinned, <br>Rough tamarind, <br>Pomegranates red as lips -- oh they come dear! <br>But men like you we feast at any price -- <br>A plum perhaps? They're looking rather nice! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'll cut the thing in half. <br>There's yours! Now, with a one-side-poisoned knife <br>One might snuff life <br>And leave one's friend with -- &quot;fool&quot; for epitaph! <br>An old trick? Truth! But when one has the itch <br>For pretty things and isn't very rich. . . . </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There, eat it all or I'll <br>Be angry! You feel giddy? Well, it's hot! <br>This bergamot <br>Take home and smell -- it purges blood of bile! <br>And when you kiss Bianca's dimpled knee, <br>Think of the poor Pope in his misery! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now you may kiss my ring! <br>Ho there, the Cardinal's litter! -- You must dine <br>When the new wine <br>Is in, again with me -- hear Bice sing, <br>Even admire my frescoes -- though they're nought <br>Beside the calm Greek glories you have bought! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Godspeed, Sir Cardinal! <br>And take a weak man's blessing! Help him there <br>To the cool air! . . . <br>Lucrezia here? You're ready for the ball? <br>-- He'll die within ten hours, I suppose -- <br>Mhm! Kiss your poor old father, little rose!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Stephen+Vincent+Benet">Stephen Vincent Benet</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=521175" data-title="Alexander VI Dines with the Cardinal of Capua de Stephen Vincent Benet" data-description="Next, then, the peacock, gilt 
With all its feathers. Look, what gorgeous dyes 
Flow in the eyes! 
And how deep, lustrous greens are splashed and spilt 
Along the back, that like a sea-wave's crest 
Scatters soft beauty o'er th' emblazoned breast!..."></div>
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