But you yourself must needs excuse my fear.
Well, hold me simple, much it matters not,
Whilst I preserve my chaste name far from spot?
For when I seem touch'd with a bashful shame,
It shews how highly I regard my fame.

When I seem sad, my countenance is not feign'd;
And when I lour, my look is unconstrain'd.
But say my brow be cloudy, my name's clear,
And reverently you shall of Helen hear.
No man from me adulterate spoils can win ;,
For to this hour I've sported without sin;

Which makes me in my heart the more to wonder,
What hope you have in time to bring me under ;
Or from mine eye what comfort thou canst gather,
To pity thee, and not despise thee rather.
Because once Theseus hurry'd me from hence,
And did to me a kind of violence;

Follows it therefore, I am of such price,

That ravish'd once, I should be ravish'd twice?
Was it my fault, because I striv'd in vain,
And wanted strength his fury to restrain?
He flatter'd, and spake fair, I struggled still;
And what he got, was much against my will.
Of all his toil, he reap'd no wished fruit,
For with my wrangling I withstood his suit.
At length I was restor'd, untouch'd, and clear;
In all my rape, I suffer'd nought but fear;
A few untoward kisses he (Got wot)
Dry, without relish by much striving got,
And them with much ado, and to his cost,
Of further favours he could never boast;
I doubt your purpose aims at greater blisses,
And hardly would alone be pleas'd with kisses.
Thou hast some further aim, and seek'st to do,
What, Jove defend, I should consent unto.
He bore not thy bad mind, but did restore me
Unblemish'd to the place from whence he bore me.
The youth was bashful, and thy boldness lack'd,
And, 'tis well known, repented his bold fact;
Theseus repented, so should Paris do,
Succeed in love, and in repentance too.

Nor am I angry; who can angry be

With him that loves her? If your heart agree

With your kind words, your suit I could applaud,

So were I sure your lines were void of fraud,
I cast not these strange doubts, or this dispense,
Like one that were bereft of confidence;
Not that I with myself am in disgrace,
Or do not know the beauty of my face;
But because too much trust hath damag'd such
As have believ'd men in their loves too much.
And now the general tongue of women saith,
Men's words are full of treason, void of faith.
Let others sin, and hours of pleasure waste,
'Tis rare to find the sober matron chaste.
Why? Say it be that sin prevails with fair ones,
May not my name be rank'd among the rare ones?
Because my mother Læda was beguil'd,
Must I stray too, that am her eldest child?
I must confess my mother made a rape,
But Jove beguil'd her in a borrow'd shape.
When she (poor soul) nor dreamt of god nor man,
He trod her like a milk-white feather'd swan.
She was deceiv'd by error; if I yield
Το your unjust request, nothing can shield
Me from reproach; I cannot plead concealing ;
'Twas in her, error; 'tis in me, plain dealing.
She happily err'd; he that her honour spilt,
Had in himself full power to salve the guilt.
Her error happy'd me too (I confess)
If to be Jove's child be a happiness.

T'omit high Jove, of whom I stand in awe,
As the great grand-sire to our father-in-law;
To pass the kin I claim from Tantalus,
From Pelops, and from noble Tindarus;
Læda by Jove, in shape of swan, beguil'd,

Herself so chang'd, and by him made with child,
Proves Jove my father. Then you idly strive,
Your name from gods and princes to derive.
What need you of old Priam make relation,
Laomedon, or your great Phrygian nation;
Say all be true; what then? He of whom most
To be of your alliance you so boast,
Jove (five degrees at least) from you remov❜d,
To be the first from me, is plainly prov'd.
And tho' (as I believ'd well) Troy may stand
Powerful at sea, and full of strength by land;

And no dominion to your state superior,
I hold our clime nothing to Troy inferior.
Say, you in riches pass us, or in number

Of people, whom you boast your streets to cumber ;
Yet yours a barbarous nation is, I tell you,
And in that kind do we of Greece excel you.
Your rich epistle doth such gifts present,
As might the goddesses themselves content,
And woo them to your pleasure: but if I
Shall pass the bounds of shame, and tread awry ;
If ever you should put me to my shifts,
Yourself should move me more than all your gifts,
Or if I ever shall transgress by stealth,

It shall be for your sake, not for your wealth.
But as your gifts I scorn not, so such seem
Most precious, where the giver we esteem.
More than your presents it shall Helen please,
That you for her have past the stormy seas;
That she hath caus'd your toil, that you respect her,
And more than all your Trojan dames affect her.

But you're a wag in troth; the notes and signs
You make at table, in the meats and wines,

I have observ'd, when I least seem'd to mind them,
For at the first my curious eye did find them.
Sometimes (you wanton) your fix'd eye advances
His brightness against mine, darting sweet glances,
Out-gazing me with such a steadfast look,

That my dazzl'd eyes their splendour have forsook ;
And then you sigh, and by and by you stretch
Your amorous arm outright, the bowl to reach
That next me stands, making excuse to sip
Just in the self-same place that kiss'd my lip.
How oft have I observ'd your finger make

Tricks and conceited signs, which straight I take?
How often doth your brow your smooth thoughts cloke;
When, to my seeming, it hath almost spoke ?
And still I fear'd my husband would have spy'd you;
In troth you are to blame, and I must chide you.
You are too manifest a lover (tush)

At such known signs I could not choose but blush ;
And to myself I oft was forc'd to say,

This man at nothing shames. Is this (I pray)
Ought, save the truth? Oft times upon the board

Where Helen was engraven, you the word
Amo have underwrit, in new-spilt wine;
(Good sooth) at first I could not scan the line,
Nor understand your meaning. Now (O! spite)
Myself am now taught so to read and write
Should I offend, as sin to me is strange,

These blandishments have power chaste thoughts to change.

Or if I could be mov'd to step astray,
These would provoke me to lascivious play :
Besides, I must confess, you have a face

So admirable rare, so full of grace,

That it hath power to woo, and to make seizure
Of the most bright chaste beauties to your pleasure.
Yet had I rather stainless keep my fame,
Than to a stranger hazard my good name.
Make me your instance, and forbear the fair ;
Of that which most doth please you, make most spare.
The greatest virtues, of which wise men boast,
Is to obtain from that which pleaseth most.
How many gallant youths (think you) desire

That which you covet, scorch'd with the self-same fire?
Are all the world fools? only Paris wise?
Or is there none, save you, have judging eyes?
No, no, you view no more than others see,
But you are plainer and more bold with me.
You are more earnest to pursue your game;
I yield you not more knowledge, but less shame.
I would to God that you had sail'd from Troy,
When my virginity and bed t' enjoy,

A thousand gallant princely suitors came :
Had I beheld young Paris, I proclaim,
Of all those thousand I had made you chief,
And Spartan Menelaus, to his grief,

Should to my censure have subscrib'd and yielded.
But now (alas!) your hopes are weakly builded;
You covet goods possess d, pleasures foretasted;
Tardy you come, that should before have hasted;
What you desire, another claims as due :
As I could wish t' have been espous'd to you,
So let me tell you, since it is my fate,
I hold me happy in my present state.
Then cease, fair prince, an idle suit to move,
Seek not to harm her whom you seem to love,
In my contented state let me be guided,

As both my states and fortunes have provided;
Nor in so vain a quest your spirits toil,
To seek at my hands an unworthy spoil.

But see how soon poor women are deluded,
Venus herself this covenant hath concluded:
For in th' Idean vallies you espy

Three goddesses, stripp'd naked to your eye;
And when the first had promis'd you a crown,
The second fortitude and war's renown;

The third bespake you thus ; Crown, nor war's pride,
Will I bequeath, but Helen to thy bride.

I scarce believe, those high immortal creatures
Would to your eye expose their naked features.
Or say the first part of your tale be pure,

And meet with truth, the second's false I'm sure ;
In which poor I was thought the greatest meed,
In such a high cause by the gods decreed.

I have not of my beauty such opinion,

T' imagine it preferr'd before dominion,

Or fortitude nor can your words persuade me,
The greatest gift of all the goddess made me.
It is enough to me men praise my face,
But from the gods I merit no such grace:

Nor doth the praise you charge me with, offend me,
If Venus do not enviously commend me,

But lo! I grant you, and imagine true,

Your free report, claiming your praise as due.
Who would in pleasing things call fame a liar,
But give that credit which we most desire?

That we have mov'd these doubts, be not you griev'd,
The greatest wonders are the least believ'd:
Know then, I first am pleas'd that Venus ought me
Such undeserved grace; next that you thought me
The greatest meed. Nor sceptre, nor war's fame,
Did you prefer before poor Helen's name.

(Hard heart! 'tis time thou should'st at last come down)
Therefore I am your valour, I your crown,
Your kindness conquers me, do what I can ;
I were hard-hearted not to love this man.
Obdurate I was never, and yet coy
To favour him whom I can ne'er enjoy,
What profits it the barren sands to plough,
And in the furrows our affections sow ?