Either no war from Greece fhall follow thee,
Or, if it does, shall be repell'd by me.
Nor think I fear to fight for fuch a wife,
That prize would give the coward's courage life.
All after-ages fhall your fame admire,
If you alone fet the whole world on fire.
To fea, to fea, while all the gods are kind,
And all I promise, you in Troy shall find.
Acontius in the temple of Diana at Delos (famous for the refort of the most beautiful virgins of all Greece) fell in love with Cydippe, a lady of quality much above his own; not daring therefore to court her openly, he found this device to obtain her: he writes, upon the fairest apple that could be procured, a couple of verfes to this effect:
"I fwear, by chafte Diana, I will be
"In facred wedlock ever join'd to thee:"
and throws it at the feet of the young lady; she, suspecting not the deceit, takes it up and reads it, and therein promises herself in marriage to Acontius; there being a law there in force, that whatever any perfon fhould fwear in the temple of Diana of Delos, fhould ftand good, and be inviolably obferved: but her father, not knowing what had past, and having not long after promised her to another, just as the folemnities of marriage were to be performed, she was taken with a fudden and violent fever, which Acontius endeavours to perfuade her was fent from Diana, as a punishment of the breach of the vow made in her presence. And this, with the rest of the arguments which on fuch occafion would occur to a lover, is the fubject of the following epittle.
READ boldly this; here you shall fwear no more,
For that 's enough which you have fworn before.
Read it; fo may that violent disease,
Which thy dear body, but my foul doth feize,
Forget its too-long practis'd cruelty,
And health to you reftore, and you to me.
Why do you blush? for blush you do, I fear,
As when you firft did in the temple fwear :
Truth to your plighted faith is all I claim,
And truth can never be the caufe of fhame :
Shame lives with guilt; but you your virtue prove
In favouring mine, for mine 's a husband's love.
Ah! to yourself those binding words repeat
That once your wifhing eyes ev'n long'd to meet,
When th' apple brought them dancing to your feet.
There you will find the folemn vow you made,
Which if your health or mine can aught perfwade,
You to perform should rather mindful be,
Than great Diana to revenge on thee.
My fears for you increase with my defire,
And Hope blows that already raging fire;
For hope you gave, nor can you this deny,
For the great Goddess of the fane was by;
She was, and heard, and from her hallow'd fhrine
A fudden kind auspicious light did shine :
Her ftatue feem'd to nod its awful head,
And give its glad confent to what you faid;
Now, if you please, accuse my profperous cheat,
Yet ftill confefs 'twas Love that taught me it :
In that deceit what did I elfe defign
But with your own confent to make you mine?
What you my crime, I call my innocence,
Since loving you has been my fole offence.
Nor Nature gave me, nor has practice taught,
The nets with which young virgins' hearts are caught.
You my accufer taught me to deceive,
And Love, with you, did his assistance give;
For Love stood by, and finiling bad me write
The cunning words he did himself indite :
Again, you fee, I write by his command,
He guides my pen, and rules my willing hand,
Again fuch kind, fuch loving words I fend,
As makes me fear that I again offend :
Yet, if my love 's my crime, I must confefs,
Great is my guilt, but never shall be less.
Oh that I thus might ever guilty prove,
In finding out new paths to reach thy love!
A thoufand ways to that steep mountain lead,
Though hard to find, and difficult to tread.
All these will I find out, and break through all,
For which, my flames compar'd, the danger 's finall.
The gods alone know what the end will be,
Yet, if we mortals any thing foresee,
One way or other you muft yield to me.
If all my arts fhould fail, to arms I'll fly,
And fnatch by force what you my prayers deny :
I all thofe heroes mighty acts applaud,
Who firft have led me this illuftrious road.
I too---but hold, death the reward will be;
Death be it then!-
For to lose you is more than death to me.
Were you lefs fair, I'd ufe the vulgar way
Of tedious courtship, and of dull delay.
But thy bright form kindles more eager fires,
And fomething wondrous as itself inspires;
Thofe eyes that all the heavenly lights out-shine,
(Which, oh! may'ft thou behold and love in mine!)
Thofe fnowy arms, which on my neck fhould fall,
If you the vows you made regard at all,
That modeft fweetnefs and becoming grace,
That paints with living red your blushing face,
Thofe feet, with which they only can compare,
That through the filver flood bright Thetis bear:
Do all confpire my madnefs to excite,
With all the reft that is deny'd to fight:
Which could I praise, alike I then were bleft,
And all the storms of my vex'd foul at rest:
No wonder then if, with fuch beauty fir'd,
I of your love the facred pledge defir'd.
Rage now,
and be as angry as you will,
Your very frowns all others' fmiles excel;
But give me leave that anger to appease,
By my fubmiffion that my love did raise.
Your pardon proftrate at your feet I'll crave,
The humble pofture of your guilty flave.
With falling tears your fiery rage I'll cool,
And lay the rifing tempeft of your foul.
Why in my abfence are you thus fevere?
Summon'd at your tribunal to appear
For all my crimes, I'd gladly fuffer there:
With pride whatever you inflict receive,
And love the wounds thofe hands vouchfafe to give.
Your fetters too----but they, alas! are vain,
For Love has bound me, and I hug my chain :
Your hardest laws with patience I'll obey,
Till you yourself at last relent, and fay,
When all my fufferings you with pity fee,
"He that can love fo well, is worthy me!"
But, if all this fhould unfuccefsful prove,
Diana claims for me your promis'd love,
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