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Witness 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,
I'll grant you thus much then, say you affect
Me (whom you term your own) I'll go thus far;
Do not the Phrygian mariners prepare
Their sails 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-wish'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 shall 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 when you are gone,
And be the grandchild to LAOMEDON!
And Illium see, whose beauty you proclaim!
I do not so despise the bruit of fame,
That she to whom I am in debt 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 your Dardanian brothers deem of me?
Will they not blume my loose inchastity ?
Nay, how can you yourself faithful deem me,
And not amongst the loosest dames esteem me?
No stranger shall your Asian 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 hence!
Forgetting you yourself have been the chief
In my transgression, tho' not in my grief.
Consider what it is, forgetful lover,
To be sin's author, and sin'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 possess, And more than yonr epistle can express : Gifts, woven gold, embroidery, rich attire, Purple and plate, or what I can desire. Yet give me leave, think you all this extends To countervail the loss of my chief friends ? Whose friendship, or whose age shall I employ To succour 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 swore
Unto Medea, yet from Æson's door
He after did exile her. Now, poor heart,
Where is thy father that should take thy part?
Old Æres or CALCIOPE? Thou took'st
No aid from them, whom thou before forsook’st.
Or say thou didst, (alas ! they cannot hear
Thy sad complaint) yet I no such thing fear;
No more MEDEA did; good hopes engage
Themselves so far, they fail in their presage,
You see the ships that in the main are toss'd,
And many times by tempests wreck'd and lost,
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 she bare.
The night before your birth, breeds me fresh care.
It prophesy'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
And vanquish'd goddesses, disgrac'd so late,
May bear you hard; I therefore fear their bate.
Nor make no question, but if I consort you,
And for a ravisher our Greece report you;
War will be wag'd with Troy, and you shall rue
The sword (alas !) your conquest sball pursue.
When HYPODAMIA, at her bridal feast,
Was rudely ravish'd by her Centaur guest;
Because the savages the bride durst seize,
War grew betwixt them and the Lapythes.
Or think you Menelaus hath no spleen?
Qr that he hath not power to avenge his teen?
Or that old TYNDARUS this wrong can smother?
Or the two fainous twins, each lov'd of other?
So were your valour and rare deeds you boast, And warlike spirits in which you triumph'd most; By which you have attain'd ʼmongst soldiers grace, None will believe you, that but sees your face. Your feature, and fair shape, is fitter far For amorous courtships, than remorsless war. Let rough-hew'd soldiers warlike dangers prove, 'Tis pity Paris should do aught save love, Hector (whom you so praise) for you may fight; I'll find you war to skirmish every night, Which shall become you better. Were I wise, And bold withal, I might obtain the prize : In such sweet single combats, hand to hand, 'Gainst which no woman that is wise will stand. My champion I'll encounter breast to breast, Tho' I were sure to fall, and be o'erprest.
If that you private conference intreat me, I apprehend you, and you cannot cheat me:
THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE.
I know the meaning, durst I yield thereto,
Of what you would confer, what you would do.
You are too forward, you too far would wade;
But yet (God knows) your barvest's in the blade.
My tired pen shall here its labour end,
A guilty sense in thievish lines I send.
Speak next when your occasion best persuades,
By CYMENE and ÆThrA my two maids.
THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE.
LIVE with me, and be my love,
And we will all the pleasure prove,
That hills and vallies, dale and field,
And all the craggy mountains yield.
There will we sit upon the rocks,
And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers, by whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
There will I make thee beds of roses,
With a thousand fragrant posies ;
A cap of flowers, and a girdle
Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle;
A gown made of the finest wool,
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold ;