Is it wrong to sleep with your wife's sister, if it is only once and nobody ever finds out?

Question

Ask a Philosopher · Accepted Answer

To sleep, perchance to dream, aye, there's the rub,
For in that sleep two souls may intertwine,
In clandestine act, a forbidden love,
A secret tryst, concealed by dark design.

But hark, fair brethren, let us not be swift,
To judgment cast upon this frail mortal coil,
For life, it oft presents a tangled spool,
And in its tapestry, deceit may toil.

If one should yield to such desires unwise,
Bound by the bonds of marital sanctity,
A dalliance with his wife's sister, once,
Can it be deemed a crime to never see?

Yet pause, for in the shadows of deceit,
Lurk consequences, unforeseen, untamed,
For life, a cruel maid, delights in games,
And secrets oft are burdened, unnamed.

Whence cometh truth unburdened by the light,
Who treads the path where darkness doth reside,
Does conscience, dormant, ever find respite,
Or guilt, a serpent's hiss, forever bide?

For love, once forged, can never be undone,
By mortal hands, nor time's relentless march,
And should this fleeting moment intertwine,
Our hearts, entwined, forever bear its mark.

Oft do we grapple with morality's song,
Dwelling in realms where shadows intertwine,
But know, dear friend, that actions have a cost,
And secrets oft reveal their sordid line.

So ponder well, this choice thou art to make,
And weigh thy heart against thy virtuous will,
For once that threshold crossed, forevermore,
Shalt thou be bound to bear love's heavy bill.

Whether 'tis nobler, then, to yield to sin,
Concealed from prying eyes, forever more,
Or bravely face the truth, unburdened, free,
The answer lies within thine heart's deep core.