T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.
The Consolation
By Aristaenetus (fl. 5th or 6th Century A.D.)(Love Epistles, VI; translated by Richard Brinsley Sheridan and Nathaniel Brassey Halhed) |
HERMOCRATES TO EUPHORION SAYS a girl to her nurse, “I’ve a tale to unfold, | |
| Of utmost concern to us both; | |
| But first you must swear not to blab when you’re told.” | |
| —Nurse greedily swallow’d the oath. | |
| “I’ve lost, my dear mother,” the innocent said, | 5 |
| “What should be a virgin’s chief pride.”— | |
| I wish you had seen what a face the dame made, | |
| And heard how she blubber’d and cried. | |
| “Hush, for God’s sake,” says Miss, in a whispering tone, | |
| “The people will hear you within; | 10 |
| You have sworn to discover my secret to none, | |
| Then why such a horrible din? | |
| “My virtue long all opposition withstood, | |
| And scorn’d at Love’s efforts to flinch; | |
| It retreated at last—but as slow as it could, | 15 |
| Disputing the ground inch by inch. | |
| “In vain to my aid did I reason invoke; | |
| Young Cupid no reason could quell; | |
| He’d got root in my heart, and there grew like an oak, | |
| So I fell—but reluctantly fell. | 20 |
| “Yet surely young Lysias has charms to betray; | |
| Too charming, alas, to be true! | |
| But you never heard the soft things he can say— | |
| Ah! would I had ne’er heard them too: | |
| “For now that the spoiler has robb’d me of all | 25 |
| My innocent heart used to prize, | |
| He cruelly mocks at my tears as they fall— | |
| The tears he has drawn from my eyes.” | |
| “You’ve play’d a sad game,” cried the matron, aghast; | |
| “Besides, you disgrace my gray head: | 30 |
| But since no reflections can alter what’s past, | |
| Cheer up—there’s no more to be said. | |
| “Cheer up, child, I say; why there’s no such great crime; | |
| Sure I too have met with false men: | |
| I’ve known what it was to be trick’d in my time; | 35 |
| But I know too—to trick them again. | |
| “But do so no more; lest, should you be rash, | |
| Your apron-strings publish your tricks: | |
| Your father, I hope, has a round sum of cash, | |
| And soon on your husband will fix. | 40 |
| “Some innocent swain, (if such innocence be!) | |
| Unskill’d in the myst’ries of love; | |
| Whose gallantry ne’er went ’yond Phyllis’s knee, | |
| Or fastening the garter above. | |
| “My humble petition may Jupiter hear, | 45 |
| And grant that you quickly may wed.”— | |
| “So at present, dear mother, I’ve nothing to fear | |
| No tale-telling urchin to dread?”— | |
| “You’re safe, my dear daughter, I fancy, as yet; | |
| And when at the altar you’re tied, | 50 |
| I’ll teach you a method your husband to cheat, | |
| For a virgin, as well as a bride.” | |