Epistulae

all, unless you think it better to desist; but why desist? you who can to well dissemble. Love still, but secretly: the absence of Menelaus gives more freedom, but does not allow of all. He is gone upon a long journey, called by urgent affairs; a great and weighty concern occasioned his sudden departure: at least so it appeared to me. I, seeing him unresolved what to do, said, Go and return with all possible dispatch.

He, pleased with the omen, fondly kissed me: To your care, says he, I recommend my palace, my kingdom, and the Trojan guest. Scarcely could I refrain from laughter; and, while I strove to stifle it, I would only answer, It shall be so. He, it is true, spread his sails for Crete with a favorable wind; yet do not, from this, fancy yourself wholly secure. My husband, though absent, has still watchful eyes over me. Are you unacquainted with the proverb, that princes have long hands? My fame too is a great obstacle; for the more lavish you are in my praise, the more reasonable ground has he for suspicion. That glory, once so grateful, is now my bane; far better it had been to be less known to fame. Nor wonder at his absence, or that I am here left with you: he trusted to my virtue and unspotted life. My beauty and shape implied danger; but my probity and fame made him secure. You desire me not to lose so fair a season, or neglect the opportunity given by the simple good-natured man. I am willing, but afraid; my resolution is still unfixed, and my breast glows with all the anguish of