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(Translated by Christopher Marlowe)
Ad puellam, ne pro amore præmia poscat.
SUCH as the cause was of two husbands’ war, | |
| Whom Trojan ships fetch’d from Europa far, | |
| Such as was Leda, whom the god deluded | |
| In snow-white plumes of a false swan included. | |
| Such as Amymone through the dry fields strayed, | 5 |
| When on her head a water pitcher laid. | |
| Such wert thou, and I feared the bull and eagle, | |
| And whate’er Love made Jove, should thee inveigle. | |
| Now all fear with my mind’s hot love abates: | |
| No more this beauty mine eyes captivates. | 10 |
| Ask’st why I change? because thou crav’st reward; | |
| This cause hath thee from pleasing me debarred. | |
| While thou wert plain I loved thy mind and face: | |
| Now inward faults thy outward form disgrace. | |
| Love is a naked boy, his years saunce stain, | 15 |
| And hath no clothes, but open doth remain. | |
| Will you for gain have Cupid sell himself? | |
| He hath no bosom where to hide base pelf. | |
| Love and Love’s son are with fierce arms at odds; | |
| To serve for pay beseems not wanton gods. | 20 |
| The whore stands to be bought for each man’s money, | |
| And seeks vile wealth by selling of her coney. | |
| Yet greedy bawd’s command she curseth still, | |
| And doth, constrained, what you do of goodwill. | |
| Take from irrational beasts a precedent; | 25 |
| ’Tis shame their wits should be more excellent. | |
| The mare asks not the horse, the cow the bull, | |
| Nor the mild ewe gifts from the ram doth pull. | |
| Only a woman gets spoils from a man, | |
| Farms out herself on nights for what she can; | 30 |
| And lets what doth delight, what both desire, | |
| Making her joy according to her hire. | |
| The sport being such, as both alike sweet try it, | |
| Why should one sell it and the other buy it? | |
| Why should I lose, and thou gain by the pleasure, | 35 |
| Which man and woman reap in equal measure? | |
| Knights of the post of perjuries make sale, | |
| The unjust judge for bribes becomes a stale. | |
| ’Tis shame sold tongues the guilty should defend, | |
| Or great wealth from a judgment-seat ascend. | 40 |
| ’Tis shame to grow rich by bed-merchandise, | |
| Or prostitute thy beauty for bad price. | |
| Thanks worthily are due for things unbought; | |
| For beds ill-hired we are indebted nought. | |
| The hirer payeth all; his rent discharged, | 45 |
| From further duty he rests then enlarged. | |
| Fair dames forbear rewards for nights to crave: | |
| Ill-gotten goods good end will never have. | |
| The Sabine gauntlets were too dearly won, | |
| That unto death did press the holy nun. | 50 |
| The son slew her, that forth to meet him went, | |
| And a rich necklace caused that punishment. | |
| Yet think no scorn to ask a wealthy churl; | |
| He wants no gifts into thy lap to hurl. | |
| Take clustered grapes from an o’er-laden vine, | 55 |
| May bounteous love Alcinous’ fruit resign. | |
| Let poor men show their service, faith and care; | |
| All for their mistress, what they have, prepare. | |
| In verse to praise kind wenches ’tis my part, | |
| And whom I like eternise by mine art. | 60 |
| Garments do wear, jewels and gold do waste, | |
| The fame that verse gives doth for ever last. | |
| To give I love, but to be asked disdain; | |
| Leave asking, and I’ll give what I refrain. | |
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