wealth, while you may.
Hector to arms went from his wife's embraces,
And on Andromache[186] his helmet laces.
Great Agamemnon was, men say, amazed,
On Priam's loose-trest daughter when he gazed.
Mars in the deed the blacksmith's net did stable;
In heaven was never more notorious fable. 40
Myself was dull and faint, to sloth inclined;
Pleasure and ease had mollified my mind.
A fair maid's care expelled this sluggishness,
And to her tents willed me myself address.
Since may'st thou see me watch and night-wars move:
He that will not grow slothful, let him love.
FOOTNOTES:
[181] Not in Isham copy or ed. A.
[182] "Mitte puellam."
[183] Old eds. "to."
[184] So ed. B.--Ed. C "such."
[185] "Custodum transire _manus_ vigilumque catervas." (For "hands" the
poet should have written "bands.")
[186] "Et galeam capiti quae daret uxor erat."
ELEGIA X.[187]
Ad puellam, ne pro amore praemia poscat.
Such as the cause was of two husbands' war,
Whom Trojan ships fetch'd from Europa far,
Such as was Leda, whom the god deluded
In snow-white plumes of a false swan included.
Such as Amymone through the dry fields strayed,
When on her head a water pitcher laid.
Such wert thou, and I feared the bull and eagle,
And whate'er Love made Jove, should thee inveigle.
Now all fear with my mind's hot love abates:
No more this beauty mine eyes captivates. 10
Ask'st why I change? because thou crav'st reward;
This cause hath thee from pleasing me debarred.
While thou wert plain[188] I loved thy mind and face:
Now inward faults thy outward form disgrace.
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 gods. 20
The whore 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 dot
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