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Love is a naked boy, his years saunce[189] stain, And hath no clothes, but open doth remain.
Will you for gain have Cupid sell himself?
He hath no bosom where to hide base pelf.
Love[190] and Love's son are with fierce arms at[191] odds; To serve for pay beseems not wanton G.o.ds. 20 The wh.o.r.e stands to be bought for each man's money, And seeks vild wealth by selling of her coney.
Yet greedy bawd's command she curseth still, And doth, constrained, what you do of goodwill.
Take from irrational beasts a precedent; 'Tis shame their wits should be more excellent.
The mare asks not the horse, the cow the bull, Nor the mild ewe gifts from the ram doth pull.
Only a woman gets spoils from a man, Farms out herself on nights for what she can; 30 And lets[192] what both delight, what both desire, Making her joy according to her hire.
The sport being such, as both alike sweet try it, Why should one sell it and the other buy it?
Why should I lose, and thou gain by the pleasure, Which man and woman reap in equal measure?
Knights of the post[193] of perjuries make sale, The unjust judge for bribes becomes a stale.
'Tis shame sold tongues the guilty should defend, Or great wealth from a judgment-seat ascend. 40 'Tis shame to grow rich by bed-merchandise,[194]
Or prost.i.tute thy beauty for bad price.
Thanks worthily are due for things unbought; For beds ill-hired we are indebted nought.
The hirer payeth all; his rent discharged, From further duty he rests then enlarged.
Fair dames forbear rewards for nights to crave: Ill-gotten goods good end will never have.
The Sabine gauntlets were too dearly won, That unto death did press the holy nun. 50 The son slew her, that forth to meet him went, And a rich necklace caused that punishment.
Yet think no scorn to ask a wealthy churl; He wants no gifts into thy lap to hurl.
Take cl.u.s.tered grapes from an o'er-laden vine, May[195] bounteous love[196] Alcinous' fruit resign.
Let poor men show their service, faith and care; All for their mistress, what they have, prepare.
In verse to praise kind wenches 'tis my part, And whom I like eternise by mine art. 60 Garments do wear, jewels and gold do waste, The fame that verse gives doth for ever last.
To give I love, but to be asked disdain; Leave asking, and I'll give what I refrain.
FOOTNOTES:
[187] Not in Isham copy or ed. A.
[188] "Simplex."
[189] Sans.
[190] "Nec _Venus_ apta," &c.
[191] Old eds. "to."
[192] "Vendit."
[193] "Non bene conducti testes."
[194] So ed. B.--ed. C "bad merchandise."
[195] Old eds. "many."
[196] The original has "ager."
ELEGIA XI.[197]
Napen alloquitur, ut paratas tabellas ad Corinnam perferat.
In skilful gathering ruffled hairs in order, Nape, free-born, whose cunning hath no border,[198]
Thy service for night's scapes is known commodious, And to give signs dull wit to thee is odious.[199]
Corinna clips me oft by thy persuasion: Never to harm me made thy faith evasion.
Receive these lines; them to my mistress carry; Be sedulous; let no stay cause thee tarry, Nor flint nor iron are in thy soft breast, But pure simplicity in thee doth rest. 10 And 'tis supposed Love's bow hath wounded thee; Defend the ensigns of thy war in me.
If what I do, she asks, say "hope for night;"
The rest my hand doth in my letters write.
Time pa.s.seth while I speak; give her my writ, But see that forthwith she peruseth it.
I charge thee mark her eyes and front in reading: By speechless looks we guess at things succeeding.
Straight being read, will her to write much back, I hate fair paper should writ matter lack. 20 Let her make verses and some blotted letter On the last edge to stay mine eyes the better.
What needs she tire[200] her hand to hold the quill?
Let this word "Come," alone the tables fill.
Then with triumphant laurel will I grace them And in the midst of Venus' temple place them, Subscribing, that to her I consecrate My faithful tables, being vile maple late.
FOOTNOTES:
[197] Not in Isham copy or ed. A.
[198] Bound.
[199] "Et dandis ingeniosa notis."
[200] So Dyce for "try" of the old eds.
ELEGIA XII.[201]
Tabellas quas miserat execratur quod amica noctem negabat.
Bewail my chance: the sad book is returned, This day denial hath my sport adjourned.
Presages are not vain; when she departed, Nape by stumbling on the threshold, started.
Going out again, pa.s.s forth the door more wisely, And somewhat higher bear thy foot precisely.
Hence luckless tables! funeral wood, be flying!
And thou, the wax, stuffed full with notes denying!
Which I think gathered from cold hemlock's flower, Wherein bad honey Corsic bees did pour: 10 Yet as if mixed with red lead thou wert ruddy, That colour rightly did appear so b.l.o.o.d.y.
As evil wood, thrown in the highways, lie, Be broke with wheels of chariots pa.s.sing by!
And him that hewed you out for needful uses, I'll prove had hands impure with all abuses.
Poor wretches on the tree themselves did strangle: There sat the hangman for men's necks to angle.
To hoa.r.s.e scrich-owls foul shadows it allows; Vultures and Furies[202] nestled in the boughs. 20 To these my love I foolishly committed, And then with sweet words to my mistress fitted.
More fitly had they[203] wrangling bonds contained From barbarous lips of some attorney strained.
Among day-books and bills they had lain better, In which the merchant wails his bankrupt debtor.
Your name approves you made for such like things, The number two no good divining brings.
Angry, I pray that rotten age you racks, And s.l.u.ttish white-mould overgrow the wax. 30
FOOTNOTES: