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 equal destiny. So fatal beauty is, and full of waste. That neither wanton can be safe, nor chaste. 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 dear To them than to himself; we blindly here, Led by the world and lust, in vain assay To get us portions, wives and sons; but they Already know all that we can intend, And of our children's children see the end. Yet that thou may'st have something to commend With thanks unto the gods for what they send; Pray for a wise and knowing soul; a sad, Discreet, true valour, that will scorn to add A needless horror to thy death; that knows 'Tis but a debt which man to nature owes; That starts not at misfortunes, that can sway And keep all passions under lock and key; That covets nothing, wrongs none, and prefers An honest want, before rich injurers. All this thou hast within thyself, and may Be made thy own, if thou wilt take the way; What boots the world's wild, loose applause? what [can] Frail, perilous honours add unto a man? What length of years, wealth, or a rich fair wife? Virtue alone can make a happy life. To a wise man nought comes amiss: but we Fortune adore, and make our deity. FOOTNOTES: [52] The original has _framed_. [53] The original has _low_. [54] The original has _why_ OLOR ISCANUS. 1651. ----O quis me gelidis in vallibus Iscae Sistat, et ingenti ramorum protegat umbra! AD POSTEROS.