Cast the die for Camillus, and let's take horse.

Only, we lose the love-business--exactly where I show my strength.

Clelia in the camp of the king: dactyllic chorus-accompaniment, while she, in heavy voluptuous anapaests, confesses her love for the enemy of her country.

Remember, this is our romantic opera, where we do what we like with History, and make up our minds for asses telling us to go home and read our 'student's Rome.' Then that scene where she and the king dance the dactyls, and the anapaests go to the chorus.

Sublime! Let's go into the woods and begin.
We might give the first song or two to-night.