Today | News | Books | Recipes Adventure | Science Fiction | Ghost stories | Poetry | Children | History Bookt what will hence impossible be held, If thou, old friend, to wedlock art impelled? If thou, the veriest debauchee in town, 55 With whom wives, widows, every thing went down, Shouldst stretch the unsuspecting neck, and poke Thy foolish nose into the marriage yoke? Thou, famed for scapes, and, by the trembling wife, Thrust in a chest so oft, to save thy life!-- 60 But what! Ursidius hopes a mate to gain, Frugal, and chaste, and of the good old strain: Alas, he's frantic! ope a vein with speed, And bleed him copiously, good doctor, bleed. Jewel of men! thy knees to Jove incline, 65 And let a heifer fall at Juno's shrine, If thy researches for a wife be blest, With one, who is not--need I speak the rest? Ah! few the matrons Ceres now can find, Her hallowed fillets, with chaste hands, to bind; 70 Few whom their fathers with their lips can trust, So strong their filial kisses smack of lust! Go then, prepare to bring your mistress home, And crown your doors with garlands, ere she come.-- But will one man suffice, methinks, you cry, 75 For all her wants and wishes? Will one eye! And yet there runs, 'tis said, a wondrous tale, Of some pure maid, who lives--in some lone vale. There she MAY live; but let the phœnix, placed At Gabii or Fidenæ, prove as chaste 80 As at her father's farm!--Yet who will swear, That naught is done in night and silence there? Time was, when Jupiter and Mars, we're told, } With many a nymph in woods and caves made bold; } And still, perhaps, they may not be too old. } 85 Survey our public places; see you there One woman worthy of your serious care? See you, through all the crowded benches, one Whom you might take securely for your own?-- Lo! while Bathyllus, with his flexile limbs, 90 Acts Leda, and through every posture swims, Tuccia delights to realize the play, And in lascivious trances melts away; While rustic Thymele, with curious eye, Marks the quick pant, the lingering, deep-drawn sigh, 95 And while her cheeks with burning blushes glow, Learns this--learns all the city matrons know. Others, when of the theatres bereft, When nothing but the wrangling bar is left, In the long tedious months which interpose 100 'Twixt the Cybelian and Plebeian shows, Sicken for action, and assume the airs, The mask and thyrsus, of their favorite players. --Midst peals of mirth, see Urbicus advance (Poor Ælia's choice), and, in a wanton dance, 105 Burlesque Autonoë's woes! the rich engage In higher frolics, and defraud the stage; Take from Chrysogonus the power to sing, Loose, at vast prices, the comedian's ring, Tempt the tragedian--but I see you moved-- 110 Heavens! dreamed you that QUINTILIAN would be loved! Then hie thee, Lentulus, and boldly wed, That the chaste partner of thy fruitful bed May kindly single from this motley race Some sturdy Glaphyrus, thy brows to grace: 115 Haste; in the narrow streets long scaffolds raise, And deck thy portals with triumphant bays; That in thy heir, as swathed in state he lies, The guests may trace Mirmillo's nose and eyes! Hippia, who shared a rich patrician's bed, 120 To Egypt with a gladiator fled, While rank Canopus eyed, with strong disgust, This ranker specimen of Roman lust. Without one pang, the profligate resigned Her husband, sister, sire; gave to the wind 125 Her children's tears; yea, tore herself away (To strike you more)--from PARIS and the PLAY! And though, in affluence born, her infant head Had pressed the down of an embroidered bed, She braved the deep (she long had braved her fame; 130 But this is little--to the courtly dame), And, with undaunted breast, the changes bore, Of many a sea, the swelling and the roar. Have they an honest call, such ills to bear? Cold shiverings seize them, and they shrink with fear; 135 But set illicit pleasure in their eye, Onward they rush, and every toil defy! Summoned by duty, to attend her lord, How, cries the lady, can I get on board? How bear the dizzy motion? how the smell? 140 But--when the adulterer calls her, all is well! She roams the deck, with pleasure ever new, Tugs at the ropes, and messes with the crew; But with her husband--O, how changed the case! Sick! sick! she cries, and vomits in his face. 145 But by what youthful charms, what shape, what air, Was Hippia won, the opprobrious name to bear Of FENCER'S TRULL? The wanton well might dote! For the sweet Sergius long had scraped his throat, Long looked for leave to quit the public stage, 150 Maimed in his limbs, and verging now to age. Add, that his face was battered and decayed; The helmet on his brow huge galls had made, A wen deformed his nose, of monstrous size, And sharp rheum trickled from his bloodshot eyes: 155 But then he was a SWORDSMAN! that alone Made every charm and every grace his own; That made him dearer than her nuptial vows, Dearer than country, sister, children, spouse.-- 'TIS BLOOD THEY LOVE: Let Sergius quit the sword, 160 And he'll appear, at once--so like her lord! Start you at wrongs that touch a private name, At Hippia's lewdness, and Veiento's shame? Turn to the rivals of the immortal Powers, And mark how like their fortunes are to ours! 165 Claudius had scarce begun his eyes to close, Ere from his pillow Messalina rose (Accustomed long the bed of state to slight For the coarse mattress, and the hood of night); And with one maid, and her dark hair concealed 170 Beneath a yellow tire, a strumpet veiled! She slipt into the stews, unseen, unknown, And hired a cell, yet reeking, for her own. There, flinging off her dress, the imperial whore Stood, with bare breasts and gilded, at the door, 175 And showed, Britannicus, to all who came, The womb that bore thee, in Lycisca's name! Allured the passers by with many a wile, And asked her price, and took it, with a smile. And when the hour of business now was spent, 180 And all the trulls dismissed, repining went; Yet what she could, she did; slowly she past, And saw her man, and shut her cell, the last, --Still raging with the fever of desire, Her veins all turgid, and her blood all fire, 185 With joyless pace, the imperial couch she sought, And to her happy spouse (yet slumbering) brought Cheeks rank with sweat, limbs drenched with poisonous dews, The steam of lamps, and odor of the stews! 'Twere long to tell what philters they provide, 190 What drugs, to set a son-in-law aside. Women, in judgment weak, in feeling strong, By every, gust of passion borne along, Act, in their fits, such crimes, that, to be just, The least pernicious of their sins is lust. 195 But why's Cesennia then, you say, adored, And styled the first of women, by her lord? Because she brought him thousands: such the price It cost the lady to be free from vice!-- Not for her charms the wounded lover pined, 200 Nor felt the flame which fires the ardent mind, Plutus, not Cupid, touched his sordid heart; And 'twas her dower that w |