London: George Routledge & Sons, pages 107–110
ELEGY IV.
THE PERFUME.
Once, and but once, found in thy company,
All thy supposed escapes are laid on me;
And as a thief at bar is question’d there
By all the men that have been robb’d that year,
So am I—by this traitorous means surprized—
By thy hydroptic father catechized.
Though he had wont to search with glazèd eyes,
As though he came to kill a cockatrice;
Though he hath oft sworn that he would remove
10Thy beauty’s beauty, and food of our love,
Hope of his goods, if I with thee were seen,
Yet close and secret, as our souls, we’ve been.
Though thy immortal mother, which doth lie
Still buried in her bed, yet will not die,
Takes this advantage to sleep out daylight,
And watch thy entries and returns all night;
And, when she takes thy hand, and would seem kind,
Doth search what rings and armlets she can find;
And kissing notes the colour of thy face;
20And fearing lest thou’rt swollen, doth thee embrace;
And to try if thou long, doth name strange meats;
And notes thy paleness, blushing, sighs, and sweats;
And politicly will to thee confess
The sins of her own youth’s rank lustiness;
Yet love these sorceries did remove, and move
Thee to gull thine own mother for my love.
Thy little brethren, which like fairy sprites
Oft skipp’d into our chamber, those sweet nights,
And kiss’d, and ingled on thy father’s knee,
30Were bribed next day to tell what they did see;
The grim-eight-foot-high-iron-bound serving-man,
That oft names God in oaths, and only then,
He that, to bar the first gate, doth as wide
As the great Rhodian Colossus stride
—Which, if in hell no other pains there were,
Makes me fear hell, because he must be there—
Though by thy father he were hired to this,
Could never witness any touch or kiss.
But O! too common ill, I brought with me
40That, which betray’d me to mine enemy,
A loud perfume, which at my entrance cried
E’en at thy father’s nose; so were we spied.
When, like a tyrant king, that in his bed
Smelt gunpowder, the pale wretch shivered,
Had it been some bad smell, he would have thought
That his own feet, or breath, that smell had wrought;
But as we in our isle imprisoned,
Where cattle only and divers dogs are bred,
The precious unicorns strange monsters call,
50So thought he good strange, that had none at all.
I taught my silks their whistling to forbear;
Even my oppress’d shoes dumb and speechless were;
Only thou bitter-sweet, whom I had laid
Next me, me traitorously hast betray’d,
And unsuspected hast invisibly
At once fled unto him, and stay’d with me.
*Elegía IV: amor clandestino en casa del padre — tensión erótica entre riesgo y placer.*