SATIRA II. V. I-8. HUNC, Macrine, diem numera meliore lapillo, susurros Tollere de templis, et aperto vivere voto. Mens bona, fama, fides, hæc clarè, et ut audiat hospes : SATIRE II. V. I-20. LET a white stone of pure unsullied ray Which not for thee the less auspicious shines, Illa sibi introrsum, et sub lingua immurmurat: ô si Ebullit patrui præclarum funus! et, ô si Sub rastro crepet argenti mihi seria dextro Hercule! pupillumve utinam, quem proximus hæres But when the guilty soul throws off disguise, Then whisper'd prayers, and mutter'd vows arise. "O in his grave were my old uncle laid, "And at his tomb funereal honours paid! "O Hercules, when next I rake the soil, "With a rich treasure recompence my toil! "Or might I, Gods, to my young ward succeed, "Urge on his fate, nor Heaven condemn the deed; "The sickly child already seems to pine, "And bile and ulcer hasten his decline. "Three times hath Hymen's torch for Nerius burn'd, What are your thoughts of him who rules the sky? Is there a man whom ev'n as Jove you prize, Would he not from you with abhorrence turn, |