ves and {dry} grass laid up
in stacks. Her beauty, indeed, is worthy {of love}; but inbred lust, as
well, urges him on, and the people in those regions are {naturally} much
inclined to lustfulness. He burns, both by his own frailty and that of
his nation. He has a desire to corrupt the care of her attendants, and
the fidelity of her nurse, and {besides}, to tempt herself with large
presents, and to spend his whole kingdom {in so doing}; or else, to
seize her, and, when seized, to secure her by a cruel war. And there is
nothing which, being seized by an unbridled passion, he may not dare;
nor does his breast contain the internal flame. And now he ill bears
with delay; and with eager mouth returns to {urge} the request of
Progne, and under it he pleads his own wishes; passion makes him
eloquent. As oft as he presses beyond what is becoming, he pretends
that Progne has thus desired. He adds tears as well, as though she had
enjoined them too. O ye Gods above, how much of dark night do the
breasts of mortals contain! Through his very attempt at villany, Tereus
is thought to be affectionate, and from his crime does he gather praise.

And how is it, too, that Philomela desires the same thing? and fondly
embracing the shoulders of her father with her arms, she begs, even by
her own safety (and against it too), that she may visit her sister.
Tereus views her, and, while viewing her, is embracing her beforehand in
imagination; and, as he beholds her kisses, and her arms around {her
father's} neck, he receives them all as incentives, and fuel, and the
food of his furious passion; and, as often as she embraces her father,
he could wish to be {that} father, and, even then, he would have been
not the less impious. The father is overcome by the entreaties of them
both. She rejoices, and returns thanks to her parent, and, to her
misfortune, deems that the success of both, which will be the cause of
sorrow to them both. Now but little of his toil was remaining for
Phoebus, and his steeds were beating with their feet the descending track
of Olympus; a regal banquet was set on the tables, and wine in golden
{vessels}; after this, their bodies were given up to gentle sleep. But
the Odrysian king,[59] though he was withdrawn, still burned for her;
and, recalling her form, her movements, her hands, fancies that which he
has not yet seen, to be such as he wishes; and he himself feeds his own
flames, his anxiety preventing sleep.

It was {now