With words I flayed him as he sulked.

Raising myself upon my elbow I rebuked the shirker in some such terms as
these: "What have you to say for yourself, you disgrace to gods and men,"
I demanded, "for your name must never be mentioned among refined people.
Did I deserve to be lifted up to heaven and then dragged down to hell by
you? Was it right for you to slander my flourishing and vigorous years
and land me in the shadows and lassitude of decrepit old age? Give me
some sign, however faint, I beg of you, that you have returned to life!"
I vented my anger in words such as these.

His eyes were fixed, and with averted look
He stood, less moved by any word of mine
Than weeping willows bending o'er a brook
Or drooping poppies as at noon they pine.

When I had made an end of this invective, so out of keeping with good
taste, I began to do penance for my soliloquy and blushed furtively
because I had so far forgotten my modesty as to invoke in words that part
of my body which men of dignity do not even recognize. Then, rubbing my
forehead for a long time, "Why have I committed an indiscretion in
relieving my resentment by natural abuse," I mused, "what does it amount
to? Are we not accustomed to swear at every member of the human body,
the belly, throat, or even the head when it aches, as it often does? Did
not Ulysses wrangle with his own heart? Do not the tragedians 'Damn
their eyes' just as if they could hear?

"Gouty patients swear at their feet, rheumatics at their hands,
blear-eyed
people at their eyes, and do not those who often stub their toes blame