TO BARINE.
Horace
If any punishment, Barine, for your violated oath had ever been of
prejudice to you: if you had become less agreeable by the blackness of a
single tooth or nail, I might believe you. But you no sooner have bound
your perfidious head with vows, but you shine out more charming by far,
and come forth the public care of our youth. It is of advantage to you
to deceive the buried ashes of your mother, and the silent
constellations of the night, together with all heaven, and the gods free
from chill death. Venus herself, I profess, laughs at this; the
good-natured nymphs laugh, and cruel Cupid, who is perpetually
sharpening his burning darts on a bloody whetstone. Add to this, that
all our boys are growing up for you; a new herd of slaves is growing up;
nor do the former ones quit the house of their impious mistress,
notwithstanding they often have threatened it. The matrons are in dread
of you on account of their young ones; the thrifty old men are in dread
of you; and the girls but just married are in distress, lest your beauty
should slacken [the affections of] their husbands.
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