Epistulae

aim at, but to be joined to you alone? What you complain of, should render me rahter doubly dear to you. My ingenuity came neither from nature, nor from long practice; it is only you, dear girl, that can make me thus inventive. Love, fertile in expedients, turnished the form of words by which I bound you so close to myself; it indeed I really bound you. I inscribed a marriage-contract in words dictated by him; it was by following his suggestions, that I became so expert in the law. Let this stratagem then bear the name of fraud; let me be called cunning and deceitful, if it can be called a fraud to aim at the possession of what we love. See! I write a second time, and send you my prayers and entreaties. This too, no doubt, is a fraud; you have in this also a ground

of complaint. If it is a crime to love, I own it, and must still be guilty without end. I must still pursue you, should even you yourself avoid my cager hopes. Others have carried away by force the virgin whom they loved; and can it be a crime in me to write a few words with artifice? How earnestly do I wish I could bind you by a thousand other ties, that no liberty might remain to plight your faith to another! A thousand stratagems are still left: I struggle hard to mount the difficult steep; nor will my ardent flame leave any expedient unessayed. It is uncertain, perhaps, whether you can be gained; but assuredly you shall. True; the event belongs to Heaven; still you shall be mine. Should you escape some, it will be impossible to elude all my snares; Love has spread more than you are well aware of. If artifice be unsuccessful, recourse must be had to violence, and you shall be borne by force into the arms of your eager admirer. I am none of those who blame the brave attempt of Paris, or of any who have shewn themselves men of steadiness and courage. I also will

— But I am silent. Were death to be the punishment of the daring rape, yet that is still less than to be deprived of you. Were you moderately fair, you would be pursued with a moderate impatience; but a form so enchanting, makes us rash and resolute. You and your deluding eyes do ail this; those eyes that eclipse the sparkling stars, and have raised the flame that rages in my breast. Why lay you not the blame upon your golden locks and ivory neck, and those fair hands, which, Oh how happy, were they fondly circled round my neck? Why not upon your comely looks, and that enchanting face, where modesty shines without rusticity; your feet, which I can scarcely imagine are equaled by those of Thetis? Where I able to commend the rest also, I should be much happier; nor do I question that the whole frame is uniformly beautiful.

What wonder then, if, overruled by so many powerful charms, I was anxious to have your promise, as a pledge of your love? Let it be so then; provided you are forced to own that you are deceived. I shall grant likewise that you

were deceived by my address. Let me bear the envy; but let not the sufferer go without his reward. Why do I not reap the harvest of so great a crime? Telamon forced away Hesione, and Achilles Briseis: each captive followed her conqueror. Blame me as much as you will; I allow you even to be angry with me, if, though angry, I may be yet permitted to call you mine. I, who have raised this storm, will do all in my power to appease it; let me only have some opportunity of softening and quieting your resentment. Let me stand before you drowned in tears, and second my tears with the language they will naturally dictate; and, as is usual with slaves when they are afraid of the whip, let me clasp my suppliant hands round your knees. You seem not to know the right you have over me; summon me before you: why am I accused in my absence? Command me to appear in the right of one that has been long my mistress. Though full of resentment you tear my hair, and disfigure my face with your nails, I will patiently suffer all. I may indeed perhaps be apprehensive that those fair hands may be hurt in taking revenge. It will be needless to secure me with chains and fetters: love is a bond that will retain me beyond the power of an escape. When your resentment is fully satiated, you will be forced to sax, How patiently he loves! When you observe me submissively endure all, surely you cannot avoid saying, Who serves so well, let him continue to serve. Now I am accused in my absence; and my cause, though highly just, is lost for want of an advocate. But if it be allowed that the words I wrote, induced by love, are an injury, you have cause of complaint only against me.

Does Diana also deserve to be deceived? If you will not perform the promise made to me, perform your promise to the Goddess. She was present, and saw your blushes on finding yourself deceived; she treasured up your words with a recollective car. May all the omens vanish in air: yet it is certain that no one takes a severer revenge, when (which Heaven forbid should be your case) she thinks the homage due to her neglected. As an instance of this, the Calydonian boar may be mentioned; for we know that a mother was found more barbarous towards her son, than even the savage beast. Other examples may be found in Actæon, who appeared a savage to those very dogs, with which he had formerly hunted down savages; and in that haughty mother turned into a stone, who now stands disconsolate in the Mygdonian plains. Alas! Cydippe, I am afraid to speak the truth, lest you should think I admonish you falsely for

my own sake. Yet I must speak: it is on this account (believe me) that you are so often seized with sickness, when preparing to wed. Diana herself wishes you guiltless, and strives to hinder you from running into perjury; she desires, that, with faith unstained, you may avoid giving offence. Hence, as often as you are in danger of being perfidious, the Goddess prevents the fatal crime. Cease then to provoke the deadly bow of the implacable Goddess; she may yet be softened, if you will not obstinately persist. Forbear, amiable nymph, to enfecble your tender limbs by preying fevers; preserve that blooming face for the sake of Acontius; preserve those enchanting looks formed to raise a flame in my breast, and the lively bloom that varies your snow-white face. If any enemy interpose to obstruct my happiness, may he feel the same torments under which I languish, when sickness threatens you.