(Sala Grande, Palazzo Barberini, Rome)
Riding their respective clouds Temperance,

Religion, Piety wax triumphant;

Fury, disarmed, reclines on his own weapons.

Thanks to Minerva, dunce giants get flunked.
Another twist of the neck and see Hercules

Clubbing the harpies of Avarice.

All the above to please a Barberini

And leading to the main event: Bomber bees,
More cardinal virtues scrambled to hand them

A laurel crown as Immortality raises,

For back up, a twelve star diadem.

Now add air-freighted tiara, St Peter’s keys.
Silenus has slipped the gaze of Providence:

The glorious slob, sprawled amidst plush green,

Orders one more drink and, satyr by chance

Made satirist, lushly steals the scene.