Those features molded nobly fair, but now Through their disfiguring discomposure wronged, Slowly regained the aspect clear and calm Wherein the proud possessor long before Learned that her sumptuous beauty best prevailed To make her sovereign of the hearts of men: Habit, with reminiscence of her past Triumphs, usurped her mind that she forgot Simon, the raging storm, her doubts and fears. Simon considered his mistress at his ease; He saw she was not flattered by his words To be a childlike plaything in his hands; He saw she was too haughty to resent, Too haughty to acknowledge by word or sign, Perhaps too haughty even to recognize In her deep mind, much more in heart to feel, Hint as conveyed by him in what he said That in the marriage markets of the world Such charms as hers were merchantable ware; And that he Simon abode at her command Loyally ready to renew for her, On some august occasion still to seek, That intermediary office his Which once from King Azizus parted her To make her of the Roman Felix spouse. Drusilla in no manner made response; But not less Simon knew his wish was sped; He knew the Venus Victrix heart in her Was flattering to the height her sense of power. He could not err by over-audacity In tempting this presumptuous woman's pride. He ventured: "It were loyal service done Thy husband, to whom loyal service thou Already even to sacrifice hast done In being his consort, thou a queen before, And he"--'but lately raised from servile state,' Simon would fain have said outright, to ease The pressure of hate and scorn he felt for Felix, But knew he must no more than thus arrest That word upon the point of utterance caught-- "It were I say, well-weighed, a service to him If thou shouldst wake the matchless power thou hast Of kindling admiration and desire, To exercise it in supreme assay At the tribunal where he must be judged, Making the judge himself thy willing thrall!"