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Now. I these love-lines write, my pen, I vow,
Is a new office taught, not known till now.
Happy are they that in this trade have skill;
Alas! I am a fool, and thall be still ;
And having till this hour not ftept astray,
Fear in these sports left I Mould miss my way.
The fear (no doubt) is greater than the blame,
I stand confounded, and amaz'd with shame;
And with the very thought of what you seek,
Think every eye fix'd on my guilty cheek.
Nor are these suppositions merely vain,
The murmuring people whisperingly complain;
And my maid Æthra bath, by lift'ning Nily,
Brought me such news, as touch'd mine honour highly,
Wherefore (dear lord) difsemble or delist;
Being over-ey'd, we cannot as we list
Fashion our sports, our love's pure harvest gather;
But why should you defift? Dissemble rather.
Sport, but in secret ; fport where none may see:
The greater, but not greatest liberty
Is limited to your lascivious play,
That Menelaus is far hence away.
My husband about great affairs is posted,
Leaving his royal guest securely hofled;
His business was important and material,
Being employ'd about a crown imperial.
And as he now is mounted on his steed,
Ready on his long journey to proceed :
Even as he questions to depart or stay,
Sweet heart (quoth 1) Ch! be not long away.
With that he reach'd me a sweet parting kiss,
(How loth he was to leave me, guess by this :)
Farewel, fair wife (faith he) bend all thy cares
To my domestic business, home-affairs ;
But as the thing that I affection belt,
Sweet wife, look well unto my Trojan guest.
It was no sooner out, but with much pain
My itching spleen from laughter I restrain;
Which striving to keep in, and bridle still,
At length I rung forth these few words ( I will.)
He's on his journey to the idle of Crete,
But think not we may therefore safely meet :
He is so abfent, that as present I
Am ftill within his reach, his ear, his eye;
And tho’abroad, his power at home commands,
For know you not kings have long-reaching hands ?
The fame for beauty you besides have given me,
Into a great exigent hath driven me.
The more your commendation fill’d his ear,
The more just cause my husband hath to fear ;
you the king hath left me so,
Into remote and foreign climes to go :
Much confidence he dares repose in me
My carriage, havicur, and my modesty ;
My beauty he mistrusts, my heart relies in ;
My face he fears, my chatte life he affies in,
To take time now when time is, you persuade me, And with his apt fit absence you invade me : I would but fear, nor is my mind well set; My will would further what my fear doth let. I have no husband here, and you no wife ; I love your Chape, you mine, dear as your life. The night seems long to such as feep alone, Our letters meet to interchange our moan. You judge me beauteous, I efleem you fair, Under one roof we lovers lodged are.
And (let me die) but every thing consider,
Each thing perfuades us we shall lie together,
Nothing we fee molefts us, nought we hear,
And yet my forward will is flack thro' fear.
I would to God, that what you ill persuade,
You could as well compel ; so I were made
Unwilling willing, pleasingly abus’d,
So my limplicity might be excus’d.
Injury's force is oft-times wond'rous pleafing,
To such as suffer ease in their diseasing;
If what I will, you 'gainst my will fhould do,
I with such force could be well pleased too.
But whilst our love is young and in the bud,
Suffer his infant vigour be withstood :
A fame new kindled is as eafily quench'd,
And fudden sparks in little drops are drench’d.
A traveller's love is, like himself, unstay’d,
And wanders where he walks ; it is not laid
On any firiner ground; for when we alone
Think him to us, the wind blows fair, he's gone.
Witiefs Hypsipile, alike betray'd ;
Witness with her the bright Mynoyan maid :
Nay then yourself, as you yourself have spoken,
To fair Oenone have your promise broken.
Since I beheld your face first, my desire
Hath been, of Trojan Paris to enquire.
I know you now in every true respect,
l'll grant you thus much then, say you affect
Me (whom you term your own.) I'll go thus fars
Do not the Phrygian mariners prepare
Their fails and oars, ev'n now whilst we recite
Exchange of words about the wished night?
Say that even now you were prepar’d to climb
My long-with'd bed, just at th’appointed time
The wind should alter, and blow fair for Troy,
You must break off, in midst of all your joy,
And leave me in the infancy of pleasure ;
Amid my' riches, I fall lose my treasure.
You will forsake the sweets my bed affords,
T exchange for cabins, hatches and pitch'd boards.
Then what a fickle courtship you commence,
" When, with the first wind, all your love blows hence?
But shall I follow
you are gone,
And be the grandchild to Laomedon !
And Ilium see, whose beauty you proclaim ?
I do not so despise the bruit of fame,
That she to whom I am indebt such thanks,
Should fill the earth with such adulterate pranks.
What will Achaia? What will Sparta say?
What will your Troy report, and Asia?
What my old Priam, or his reverend queen ?
What may your sisters, having Helen seen,
Or yoor Dardanian brothers deem of me?
Will they not blame my loose inchastity ?
Nay, how can you yourself faithful deem me,
And not amongst the loosest dames esteem me?
No stranger Thall your Alan ports come near,
But he shall fill your guilty soul with fear.
How often, angry at some small offence,
Will you thus say ;'adult’ress, get thee bence?
Forgetting you yourself have been the chief
In my transgression, tho' not in my grief.
Consider what it is, forgetful lover,
To be fin's author, and fin's sharp reprover.
But ere the least of all these ills betide me,
I wish the earth may in her bosom hide me.
But I shall all your Phrygian wealth poffefs, And more than your epiftle can express : Gifts, woven g 1d, imbroidery, rich attire, Purple and plae, or what I can deGre. Yet give me leave, think you all this extends To countervail the loss of my chief friends? Whose friendship, or whose aid shall I imploy To fuccour me, when I am wrong’d in Troy? Or whether can I, having thus misdone, Unto my father, or my brothers run ? As much as you to me, false Jason (wore Unto Medea, yet from Aton's door He after did exile her. Now, poor heart, Where is thy father that Mould take thy part ? Old Ætes or Calciope? thou took'st No aid from them, whom thou before forsook'ft. Or say thou didst (alas ! they cannot hear Tby sad complaints) yet I no such thing fear; No more Medea did : good hopes engage Themselves so far, they fail in their presage. You see the thips that in the main are toss'd, And many times by tempests wreck'd and loft, Had, at their launching from the haven's mouth, A smooth sea, and a calm gale from the south. Besides, the brand your mother dreamt the bare, The night before your birth, breeds me fresh care. It prophely'd, ere many years expire, Inflamed Troy must burn with Greekish fire. As Venus favours you, because she gain'd A doubtful prize by you ; yet the disdain'd