Chapter 4

These words he spoke, but spoke not from his heart; His outward smiles conceal’d his inward smart. The jolly crew, unmindful of the past, The quarry share, their plenteous dinner haste. Some strip the skin; some portion out the spoil; The limbs, yet trembling, in the caldrons boil; Some on the fire the reeking entrails broil. Stretch’d on the grassy turf, at ease they dine, Restore their strength with meat, and cheer their souls with wine. Their hunger thu…