t these tempters? pleasing grace
Betrays itself; what time did Nero mind
A coarse, maim'd shape? what blemish'd youth confin'd
His goatish pathic? whence then flow these joys
Of a fair issue? whom these sad annoys
Wait, and grow up with; whom perhaps thou'lt see
Public adulterers, and must be
Subject to all the curses, plagues, and awe
Of jealous madmen, and the Julian law;
Nor canst thou hope they'll find a milder star,
Or more escapes than did the god of war.
But worse than all, a jealous brain confines
His fury to no law; what rage assigns
Is present justice: thus the rash sword spills
This lecher's blood; the scourge another kills.
But thy spruce boy must touch no other face
Than a patrician? is of any race
So they be rich; Servilia is as good,
With wealth, as she that boasts Iulus' blood.
To please a servant all is cheap; what thing
In all their stock to the last suit, and king,
But lust exacts? the poorest whore in this
As generous as the patrician is.
But thou wilt say what hurt's a beauteous skin
With a chaste soul? Ask Theseus' son, and him
That Stenob[oe]a murder'd; for both these
Can tell how fatal 'twas in them to please.
A woman's spleen then carries most of fate,
When shame and sorrow aggravate her hate.
Resolve me now, had Silius been thy son,
In such a hazard what should he have done?
Of all Rome's youth, this was the only best,
In whom alone beauty and worth did rest.
This Messalina saw, and needs he must
Be ruin'd by the emp'ror, or her lust.
All in the face of Rome, and the world's eye
Though Caesar's wife, a public bigamy
She dares attempt; and that the act might bear
More prodigy, the notaries appear,
And augurs to't; and to complete the sin
In solemn form, a dowry is brought in.
All this--thou'lt say--in private might have pass'd
But she'll not have it so; what course at last?
What should he do? If Messaline be cross'd,
Without redress thy Silius will be lost;
If not, some two days' length is all he can
Keep from the grave; just so much as will span
This news to Hostia, to whose fate he owes
That Claudius last his own dishonour knows.
But he obeys, and for a few hours' lust
Forfeits that glory should outlive his dust;
Nor was it much a fault; for whether he
Obey'd or not, 'twas e