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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=431347" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Amorous Courtesan</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">DAN CUPID, though the god of soft amour,<br>In ev'ry age works miracles a store;<br>Can Catos change to male coquets at ease;<br>And fools make oracles whene'er he please;<br>Turn wolves to sheep, and ev'ry thing so well,<br>That naught remains the former shape to tell:<br>Remember, Hercules, with wond'rous pow'r,<br>And Polyphemus, who would men devour:<br>The one upon a rock himself would fling,<br>And to the winds his am'rous ditties sing;<br>To cut his beard a nymph could him inspire;<br>And, in the water, he'd his face admire.<br>His club the other to a spindle changed,<br>To please the belle with whom he often ranged.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A hundred instances the fact attest,<br>But sage Boccace has one, it is confessed,<br>Which seems to me, howe'er we search around,<br>To be a sample, rarely to be found.<br>'Tis Chimon that I mean, a savage youth,<br>Well formed in person, but the rest uncouth,<br>A bear in mind, but Cupid much can do,<br>LOVE licked the cub, and decent soon he grew.<br>A fine gallant at length the lad appeared;<br>From whence the change?--Fine eyes his bosom cheered<br>The piercing rays no sooner reached his sight,<br>But all the savage took at once to flight;<br>He felt the tender flame; polite became;<br>You'll find howe'er, our tale is not the same.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I MEAN to state how once an easy fair,<br>Who oft amused the youth devoid of care,<br>A tender flame within her heart retained,<br>Though haughty, singular, and unrestrained.<br>Not easy 'twas her favours to procure;<br>Rome was the place where dwelled this belle impure;<br>The mitre and the cross with her were naught;<br>Though at her feet, she'd give them not a thought;<br>And those who were not of the highest class,<br>No moments were allowed with her to pass.<br>A member of the conclave, first in rank,<br>To be her slave, she'd scarcely deign to thank;<br>Unless a cardinal's gay nephew came,<br>And then, perhaps, she'd listen to his flame;<br>The pope himself, had he perceived her charms,<br>Would not have been too good to grace her arms.<br>Her pride appeared in clothes as well as air,<br>And on her sparkled gold and jewels rare;<br>In all the elegance of dress arrayed,<br>Embroidery and lace, her taste displayed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">THE god of soft amour beheld her aim;<br>And sought at once her haughty soul to tame;<br>A Roman gentleman, of finest form,<br>Soon in her bosom raised a furious storm;<br>Camillus was the name this youth had got;<br>The nymph's was Constance, that LOVE'S arrow shot:<br>Though he was mild, good humoured, and serene,<br>No sooner Constance had his person seen,<br>And in her breast received the urchin's dart,<br>Than throbs, and trembling fears o'erwhelmed her heart.<br>The flame she durst declare no other way,<br>Than by those sighs, which feelings oft betray.<br>Till then, nor shame nor aught could her retain;<br>Now all was changed:--her bashfulness was plain.<br>As none, howe'er, could think the subtle flame<br>Would lie concealed with such a haughty dame,<br>Camillus nothing of the kind supposed.<br>Though she incessantly by looks disclosed,<br>That something unrevealed disturbed the soul,<br>And o'er her mind had absolute control.<br>Whatever presents Constance might receive,<br>Still pensive sighs her breast appeared to heave:<br>Her tints of beauty too, began to fail,<br>And o'er the rose, the lily to prevail.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">ONE night Camillus had a party met,<br>Of youthful beaux and belles, a charming set,<br>And, 'mong the rest, fair Constance was a guest;<br>The evening passed in jollity and jest;<br>For few to holy converse seemed inclined,<br>And none for Methodists appeared designed:<br>Not one, but Constance, deaf to wit was found,<br>And, on her, raillery went briskly round.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">THE supper o'er the company withdrew,<br>But Constance suddenly was lost to view;<br>Beside a certain bed she took her seat,<br>Where no one ever dreamed she would retreat,<br>And all supposed, that ill, or spirits weak,<br>She home had run, or something wished to seek.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">THE company retired, Camillus said,<br>He meant to write before he went to bed,<br>And told his valet he might go to rest<br>A lucky circumstance, it is confessed.<br>Thus left alone, and as the belle desired;<br>Who, from her soul, the spark so much admired;<br>Yet knew not how the subject to disclose,<br>Or, in what way her wishes to propose;<br>At length, with trembling accents, she revealed;<br>The flame she longer could not keep concealed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">EXCEEDINGLY surprised Camillus seemed,<br>And scarcely could believe but what he dreamed;<br>Why, hey! said he, good lady, is it thus,<br>With favoured friends, you doubtful points discuss?<br>He made her sit, and then his seat regained<br>Who would have thought, cried he, you here remained;<br>Now who this hiding place to you could tell?<br>'Twas LOVE, fond LOVE! replied the beauteous belle;<br>And straight a blush her lovely cheek suffused,<br>So rare with those to Cyprian revels used;<br>For Venus's vot'ries, to pranks resigned,<br>Another way, to get a colour, find.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">CAMILLUS, truly, some suspicions had,<br>That he was loved, though neither fool nor mad;<br>Nor such a novice in the Paphian scene,<br>But what he could at once some notions glean:<br>More certain tokens, howsoe'er, to get,<br>And set the lady's feelings on the fret,<br>By trying if the gloom that o'er her reigned<br>Was only sly pretence, he coldness feigned.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">SHE often sighed as if her heart would break;<br>At length love's piercing anguish made her speak:<br>What you will say, cried she, I cannot guess,<br>To see me thus a fervent flame confess.<br>The very thought my face with crimson dyes;<br>My way of life no shield for this supplies;<br>The moment pure affection 's in the soul,<br>No longer wanton freaks the mind control.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">MY conduct to excuse, what can I say?<br>O could my former life be done away,<br>And in your recollection naught remain,<br>But what might virtuous constancy maintain<br>At all event, my frankness overlook,<br>Too well I see, the fatal path I took<br>Has such displeasure to your breast conveyed,<br>My zeal will rather hurt than give me aid;<br>But hurt or not, I'll idolize you still:<br>Beat, drive away, contemn me as you will;<br>Or worse, if you the torment can contrive<br>I'm your's alone, Camillus, while alive.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">TO this harangue the wary youth replied<br>In truth, fair lady, I could ne'er decide,<br>To criticise what others round may do.-<br>'Tis not the line I'd willingly pursue;<br>And I will freely say, that your discourse<br>Has much surprised me, though 'tis void of force.<br>To you it surely never can belong,<br>To say variety in love is wrong;<br>Besides, your sex, and decency, 'tis clear,<br>To ev'ry disadvantage you appear.<br>What use this eloquence, and what your aim?<br>Such charms alone as your's could me inflame;<br>Their pow'r is great, but fully I declare,<br>I do not like advances from the FAIR.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To Constance this a thunder-clap appeared;<br>Howe'er, she in her purpose persevered.<br>Said she, this treatment doubtless I deserve;<br>But still, from truth my tongue can never swerve,<br>And if I may presume my thoughts to speak,<br>The plan which I've pursued your love to seek,<br>Had never proved injurious to my cause,<br>If still my beauty merited applause.<br>From what you've said, and what your looks express<br>To please your sight, no charms I now possess.<br>Whence comes this change?--to you i will refer;<br>Till now I was admired, you must aver;<br>And ev'ry one my person highly praised;<br>These precious gifts, that admiration raised,<br>Alas! are fled, and since I felt LOVE'S flame,<br>Experience whispers, I'm no more the same;<br>No longer have charms that please your eyes:<br>How happy I should feel if they'd suffice!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">THE suppliant belle now hoped to be allowed<br>One half his bed to whom her sighs were vowed;<br>But terror closed her lips; she nothing said,<br>Though oft her eyes were to his pillow led.<br>To be confused the wily stripling feigned,<br>And like a statue for a time remained.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">AT length he said:--I know not what to do;<br>Undressing, by myself, I can't pursue.<br>Shall I your valet call? rejoined the fair;<br>On no account, said he, with looks of care;<br>I would not have you in my chamber seen,<br>Nor thought that here, by night, a girl had been,<br>Your caution is enough, the belle replied:<br>Myself between the wall and bed I'll hide,<br>'Twill what you fear prevent, and ills avoid;<br>But bolt the door: you'll then be not annoyed;<br>Let no one come; for once I'll do my best,<br>And as your valet act till you're undressed;<br>To am'rous Constance this permission grant<br>The honour would her throbbing breast enchant.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">THE youth to her proposal gave consent,<br>And Constance instantly to business went;<br>The means she used to take his clothes were such,<br>That scarcely once his person felt her touch;<br>She stopt not there, but even freely chose<br>To take from off his feet, both shoes and hose<br>What, say you:--With her hands did Constance this?<br>Pray tell me what you see therein amiss?<br>I wish sincerely I could do the same,<br>With one for whom I feel a tender flame.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">BETWEEN the clothes in haste Camillus flew,<br>Without inviting Constance to pursue.<br>She thought at first he meant to try her love;<br>But raillery, this conduct was above.<br>His aim, howe'er more fully to unfold,<br>She presently observed:--'Tis very cold;<br>Where shall I sleep? said she:</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> CAMILLUS</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Just where you please;</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> CONSTANCE</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What, on this chair?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> CAMILLUS</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No, no, be more at ease;<br>Come into bed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> CONSTANCE</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Unlace me then, I pray.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> CAMILLUS</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I cannot: I'm undressed, and cold as clay:<br>Unlace yourself.--</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Just then the belle perceived<br>A poinard, which anxiety relieved;<br>She drew it from the scabbard, cut her lace,<br>And many parts of dress designed for grace,<br>The works of months, embroidery and flow'r<br>Now perished in the sixtieth of an hour,<br>Without regret, or seeming to lament,<br>What more than life will of the sex content.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">YE dames of Britain, Germany, or France,<br>Would you have done as much, through complaisance?<br>You would not, I'm convinced: the thing is clear;<br>But doubtless this, at Rome, must fine appear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">POOR Constance softly to the bed approached,<br>No longer now supposing she encroached,<br>And trusting that, no stratagem again<br>Would be contrived to give her bosom pain.<br>Camillus said: my sentiments I'll speak;<br>Dissimulation I will never seek;<br>She who can proffer what should be denied,<br>Shall never be admitted by my side;<br>But if the place your approbation meet,<br>I won't refuse your lying at my feet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">FAIR Constance such reproof could not withstand,<br>'Twas well the poinard was not in her hand;<br>Her bosom so severely felt the smart,<br>She would have plunged the dagger through her heart:<br>But Hope, sweet Hope! still fluttered to her view;<br>And young Camillus pretty well she knew;<br>Howe'er with such severity he spoke,<br>That e'en the mildest saint it would provoke;<br>Yet, in a swain so easy, gentle, kind,<br>'Twas strange so little lenity to find.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">SHE placed herself, as order'd, cross the bed,<br>And at his feet at length reclined her head;<br>A kiss on them she ventured to impress,<br>But not too roughly, lest she should transgress:<br>We may conjecture if he were at ease;<br>What victory! to see her stoop to please;<br>A beauty so renowned for charms and pride,<br>'Twould take a week, to note each trait described;<br>No other fault than paleness he could trace,<br>Which gave her (causes known) still higher grace.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">CAMILLUS stretched his legs, and on her breast<br>Familiarly allowed his feet to rest;<br>A cushion made of what so fair appeared,<br>That envy might from ivory be feared;<br>Then seemed as if to Morpheus he inclined,<br>And on the pillow sullenly resigned.<br>At last the sighs with which her bosom heaved,<br>Gave vent to floods of tears that much relieved;<br>This was the end:--Camillus silence broke,<br>And to tell the belle with pleasing accents spoke<br>I'm satisfied, said he, your love is pure;<br>Come hither charming girl and be secure.<br>She t'wards him moved; Camillus near her slid;<br>Could you, cried he, believe that what I did,<br>Was seriously the dictates of my soul,<br>To act the brute and ev'ry way control?<br>No, no, sweet fair, you know me not 'tis plain:<br>I truly wish your fondest love to gain;<br>Your heart I've probed, 'tis all that I desire;<br>Mid joys I swim; my bosom feels the fire.<br>Your rigour now in turn you may display;<br>It is but fair: be bountiful I pray;<br>Myself from hence your lover I declare;<br>No woman merits more my bed to share,<br>Whatever rank, or beauty, sense or life,<br>You equally deserve to be my wife;<br>Your husband I'll become; forget the past;<br>Unpleasant recollections should not last.<br>Yet there's one thing which much I wish to speak<br>The marriage must be secret that we seek;<br>There's no occasion reasons to disclose;<br>What I have said I trust will you dispose,<br>To act as I desire: you'll find it best:--<br>A wedding 's like amours while unconfessed;<br>One THEN both husband and gallant appears,<br>And ev'ry wily act the bosom cheers.<br>Till we, continued he, a priest can find,<br>Are you, to trust my promises inclined?<br>You safely may; he'll to his word adhere:<br>His heart is honest, and his tongue sincere.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">TO this fair Constance answered not a word,<br>Which showed, with him, her sentiments concurred.<br>The spark, no novice in the dumb assent,<br>Received her silence fully as 'twas meant;<br>The rest involved in myst'ry deep remains;<br>Thus Constance was requitted for her pains.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">YE Cyprian nymphs to profit turn my tale;<br>The god of LOVE, within his vot'ries pale,<br>Has many, if their sentiments were known,<br>That I'd prefer for Hymen's joys alone.<br>My wife, not always to the spindle true,<br>Will many things in life, not seem to view;<br>By Constance and her conduct you may see<br>How, with this theory, her acts agree;<br>She proved the truth of what I here advance,<br>And reaped the fruits produced by complaisance,<br>A horde of nuns I know who, ev'ry night,<br>Would such adventures wage with fond delight.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">PERHAPS it will not be with ease believed,<br>That Constance from Camillus now received,<br>A proof of LOVE'S enchanting balmy sweet,<br>A proof perhaps you'll think her used to meet;<br>But ne'er till then she tasted pleasures pure;<br>Her former life no blisses could secure.<br>You ask the cause, and signs of doubt betray:<br>Who TRULY loves, the same will ever say.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=La+Fontaine">La Fontaine</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=431347" data-title="The Amorous Courtesan de La Fontaine" data-description="DAN CUPID, though the god of soft amour,
In ev'ry age works miracles a store;
Can Catos change to male coquets at ease;
And fools make oracles whene'er he please;
Turn wolves to sheep, and ev'ry thing so well,
That naught remains the former shape ..."></div>
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