The anxious matrons, with their foolish zeale, Are the last votaries, and their appeale

Is all for beauty; with soft speech, and slow,
They pray for sons, but with a louder vow
Commend a female feature: all that can
Make woman pleasing now they shift, and scan:
And when' reprov'd, they say, Latona's paire,

The mother never thinks can be too faire.

But sad Lucretia warnes to wish no face Like her's: Virginia would bequeath her grace To crooke-backe Rutila in exchange; for still The fairest children do their parents fill With greatest cares; so seldome chastitie Is found with beauty; though some few there be That with a strict, religious care contend Th' old, modest, Sabine customes to defend : Besides, wise Nature to some faces grants An easie blush, and where shee freely plants, A lesse instruction serves: but both these joyn'd, At Rome would both be forc'd or else purloyn'd.

So steel'd a forehead Vice hath, that dares win, And bribe the father to the children's sin; But whom have gifts defiled not? what good face Did ever want these tempters? pleasing grace Betraies it self; what time did Nero mind

Misprinted 'why'. G

A course, maim'd shape? what blemish'd youth

confin'd

His goatish pathick? whence then flowd these

joies

Of a faire issue? whom these sad annoies

Waite, and grow up with; whom perhaps thou❜lt

see

Publick adulterers, and must be

Subject to all the curses, plagues, and awe

Of jealous mad men, and the Iulian law;
Nor can'st thou hope they'le find a milder starre,
Or more escapes then did the god of warre;
But worse then all, a jealous braine confines
His furie to no law; what rage assignes
Is present justice: thus the rash sword spils
This lecher's bloud, the scourge another kils.
But thy spruce boy must touch no other face
Then a patrican? Is of any race

So they be rich; Servilia is as good

With wealth, as shee that boasts Iulus blood:
To please a servant all is cheape; what thing
In all their stocke to the last suite, and king,
But lust exacts? thy poorest whore in this
As generous as the patrician is.

But thou wilt say what hurts a beauteous skin

Unnatural lust. G.

With a chaste soule ? aske Theseus' sonne, and

him

That Stenoboa murther'd; for both those
Can tell how fatall 'twas in them to please;
A woman's spleene then carries most of fate,
When shame and sorrow aggravate her hate :
Resolve me now, had Silius' been thy sonne,
In such a hazzard 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'rour, or her lust;

All in the face of Rome, and the world's eye,
Though Cesar's wife, a publicke bigamie,
Shee dares attempt; and that the act might beare
More prodigie, the notaries appeare,

And augures to't; and to compleat the sin

In solemne forme, a dowrie is brought in ;

All this thoul't say-in private might have past, But shee'le not have it so; what course at last? What should he doe? If Messaline be crost, Without redresse thy Silius will be lost;

Hippolytus, who resisted the advances of his stepmother Phaedra. Bellerophon was tempted by Stheneboea, and treated as Joseph by Potiphar's wife. Cf. Horace (C., iii. 7-17). G.

Cf. Satire vi. 115. G.

If not, some two daies length is all he can
Keep from the grave; just so much as will span
This newes to Hostia, to whose fate he owes
That Claudius last his owne dishonour knowes.
But he obeyes, and for a few houres lust,
Forfeits that glory should outlive his dust;
Nor was it much a fault; for whether he
Obey'd or not; 'twas equall destinie:

So fatall beauty is, and full of wast,

That neither wanton can be safe, nor chast.
What then should man pray for? what is't that he
Can beg of Heaven, without impiety?
Take my advice: first to the gods commit,
All cares; for they things competent, and fit
For us foresee; besides man is more deare
To them, then to himselfe; we blindly here
Led by the world, and lust, in vaine assay
To get us portions, wives and sonnes; but they
Already know all that we can intend,
And of our childhood's children see the end.

Yet that thou may'st have something to com-
mend

With thankes unto the gods for what they send;
Pray for a wise and knowing soule; a sad
Discreet, true, valour, that will scorne to adde
A needlesse horrour to thy death; that knowes
'Tis but a debt which man to nature owes;

T

That starts not at misfortunes, that can sway,
And keep all passions under locke and key;
That covets nothing, wrongs none, and preferres

An honest want, before rich injurers;

All this thou hast within thy selfe, and may

Be made thy owne, if thou wilt take the way;

What boots the world's wild, loose applause ? what [can]

Fraile, perillous honours adde unto a man?

What length of years, wealth, and a rich faire

wife?

Vertue alone can make a happy life.

To a wise man nought comes amisse but we
Fortune adore, and make our deity.