Hang thyself, Drusus: hast nor arms nor brain? So Sophi say, "The gods sell all for pain." Not so. Had not that toiling Theban's[484] steelèd back Dread poisoned shafts, lived he now, he should lack Spite of his farming ox-stalls. Themis' self Would be cashier'd from one poor scrap of pelf. If that she were incarnate in our time, She might lusk,[485] scornèd in disdainèd slime, Shaded from honour by some envious mist 10 Of wat'ry fogs, that fill the ill-stuff'd list Of fair Desert, jealous even of blind dark, Lest it should spy, and at their lameness bark. "Honour's shade thrusts honour's substance from his place." 'Tis strange, when shade the substance can disgrace. "Harsh lines!" cries Curus, whose ears ne'er rejoice But at the quavering of my lady's voice. Rude limping lines fits this lewd halting age: Sweet-scenting Curus, pardon then my rage, When wisards[486] swear plain virtue never thrives, 20 None but Priapus by plain dealing wives. Then, subtile Hermes, are the destinies Enamour'd on thee! Then up, mount the skies, Advance, depose, do even what thou list, So long as fates do grace thy juggling fist. Tuscus, hast Beuclerc's arms and strong sinews, Large reach, full-fed veins, ample revenues? Then make thy markets by thy proper arm; O brawny strength is an all-canning[487] charm! Thou dreadless Thracian![488] hast Hallirhothius slain? 30 What, is't not possible thy cause maintain Before the dozen Areopagites? Come, Enagonian,[489] furnish him with sleights. Tut, Pluto's wrath Proserpina can melt, So that thy sacrifice be freely felt. What! cannot Juno force in bed with Jove, Turn and return a sentence with her love?-- Thou art too dusky.--Fie, thou shallow ass! Put on more eyes, and mark me as I pass. Well, plainly thus: "Sleight, force are mighty things, 40 From which much (if not most) earth's glory springs. If virtue's self were clad in human shape, Virtue without these might go beg and scrape. The naked truth is, a well-clothèd lie, A nimble quick pate mounts to dignity; By force or fraud, that matters not a jot, So massy wealth may fall unto thy lot." I heard old Albius swear Flavus should have His eldest girl, for Flavus was a knave, A damn'd deep-reaching villain, and would mount 50 (He durst well warrant him) to great account; What, though he laid forth all his stock and store Upon some office, yet he'll gain much more, Though purchased dear; tut, he will treble it In some few terms, by his extorting wit. When I, in simple meaning, went to sue For tongue-tied Damus, that would needs go woo, I prais'd him for his virtuous honest life. "By God," cries Flora, "I'll not be his wife! He'll ne'er come on." Now I swear solemnly, 60 When I go next I'll praise his villainy: