ACT IV.
Reading edition
“So, force is sorrow, and each sorrow, force: What then? since Swiftness gives the charioteer The palm, his hope be in the vivid horse Whose neck God clothed with thunder, not the steer Sluggish and safe! Yoke Hatred, Crime, Remorse, Despair: but ever mind the whirling fear, Let, through the tumult, break the poet’s face Radiant, assured his wild slaves win the race!” Two Poets of Croisic.