PHILOCHORUS TO POLYÆNUS
AS Hippias t’other day and I | |
| Walk’d arm and arm, he said, | |
| “That pretty creature dost thou spy, | |
| Who leans upon her maid? | |
| |
| “She’s tall, and has a comely shape, | 5 |
| And treads well, too, I swear: | |
| Come on—by this good light we’ll scrape | |
| Acquaintance with the fair.” | |
| |
| “Good God!” cried I, “she is not game, | |
| I’m sure, for you or me: | 10 |
| Do nothing rashly—you’re to blame; | |
| She’s modest, you may see.” | |
| |
| But he, who knew all womankind, | |
| Thus answer’d with a sneer: | |
| “You’re quite a novice, friend, I find— | 15 |
| There’s nothing modest here. | |
| |
| “A virtuous dame this hour, no doubt | |
| Would choose to walk the streets; | |
| Especially so dizen’d out, | |
| And smile on all she meets. | 20 |
| |
| Her rings, her bracelets, her perfumes, | |
| Her wanton actions, prove | |
| The character which she assumes, | |
| And that her trade is love. | |
| |
| “See now, she fidgets with her vest— | 25 |
| To settle it, be sure, | |
| And not at all to show her breast, | |
| Nor wishing to allure. | |
| |
| “Her robe tuck’d up with nicest care— | |
| But that’s to show she’s neat; | 30 |
| And though her legs are half-way bare, | |
| She means to hide her feet. | |
| |
| “But see! she turns to look behind, | |
| And laughs, I’ll take my oath: | |
| Come on—I warrant we shall find | 35 |
| The damsel nothing loth.” | |
| |
| So up he march’d, and made his bow— | |
| No sooner off his hat, | |
| But, lover-like, he ’gan to vow, | |
| And soon grew intimate. | 40 |
| |
| But first premised the ways were rough— | |
| “Madam, for fear of harm, | |
| I beg”—so cleverly enough | |
| He made her take his arm. | |
| |
| Then—“Fairest, for thy beauty’s sake, | 45 |
| Which long has fired my breast, | |
| Permit me to your maid to make | |
| A single short request! | |
| |
| “And yet you know what I’d require, | |
| And wherefore I apply: | 50 |
| Nought unrequited I desire, | |
| But gold the boon shall buy. | |
| |
| “I’ll give, my fairest, what you please— | |
| You’ll not exact, I’m sure: | |
| Then deign, bright charmer, deign to ease | 55 |
| The torments I endure.” | |
| |
| Assent sat smiling in her eyes; | |
| Her lily hand he seized; | |
| Nor feign’d she very great surprise, | |
| Nor look’d so much displeased. | 60 |
| |
| She blush’d a little too, methought, | |
| As though she should refuse— | |
| But women, I’ve been told, are taught | |
| To blush whene’er they choose. | |
| |
| Hippias was now quite hand in glove, | 65 |
| With Miss, and firmly bent | |
| To take her to the bower of Love, | |
| He whisper’d as he went— | |
| |
| “Well, Phil, say now whose judgment’s best? | |
| Was I so very wrong? | 70 |
| You saw, not eagerly I press’d, | |
| Nor did I press her long. | |
| |
| “But you are ignorant, I see, | |
| So follow, and improve; | |
| For few, I ween, can teach like me | 75 |
| The mysteries of Love.” | |
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