Protefilaus, lying Wind-bound at Aulis, in the Grecian Fleet, defign'd for the Trojan War, his Wife Laodamia fends this following Epistle to Him.
Ealth to the gentle Man of War, and may
What Laodamia fends, the Gods convey. The Wind that ftill in Aulis holds my Dear, Why was it not fo cross to keep him here? Let the Wind raise an Hurricane at Sea, Were he but fafe and warm afhore with me. Ten thousand Kiffes I had more to give him, Ten thousand Cautions, and foft Words to leave him; In Hafte he left me, fummon'd by the Wind (The Wind to barbarous Mariners only kind.) The Seaman's Pleasure is the Lover's Pain, (Protefilaus is from my Bofom ta'en!)
As from my faultring Tongue half Speeches fell, (Scarce could I fpeak that wounding Word, Farewell,) A merry Gale (at Sea they call it fo)
Fill'd ev'ry Sail with Joy, my Breast with Wo;
There went my dear Protefilaus
While I could fee thee, full of eager Pain,
My greedy Eyes epicuriz'd on thine,
When thee no more, but thy fpread Sails I view,
I look'd, and look'd, 'till I had loft them too;
But when nor thee, nor them I could descry,
And all was Sea that came within my Eye,
They fay, (for I have quite forgot) they say
I ftrait grew pale, and fainted quite away;
Compaffionate Iphiclus, and the good old Man,
My Mother too, to my Affiftance ran;
In hafte, cold Water on my Face they threw ;
And brought me to my felf with much ado;
They meant it well, to me it feem'd not so,
Much kinder had they been to let me go;
My Anguish with my Soul together came,
And in my Heart burst out the former Flame :
Since which, my uncomb'd Locks unheeded flow,
Undreft, forlorn, I care not how I go;
Infpir'd with Wine, thus Bacchus' frolic Rout
Stagger'd of old, and ftraggled all about.
Put on, Put on, the happy Ladies fay,
The Royal Robes, fair Laodamia.
Alas! before Troy's Walls my Dear does lie,
What Pleasure can I take in Tyrian Die?
Shall Curls adorn my Head, an Helmet thine?
I in bright Tiffues, thou in Armour shine?
Rather with ftudied Negligence I'll be
As ill, if not difguifed worfe than thee.
O Paris! rais'd by Ruins! may'st thou prove As fatal in thy War, as in thy Love!
O that the Grecian Dame had been lefs fair,
Or thou lefs lovely hadft appear'd to her!
O Menelaus! timely cease to strive;
With how much Blood wilt thou thy Loss retrieve?
From me, ye Gods, avert your heavy doom,
And bring my Dear, laden with Laurels home.
But my Heart fails me, when I think of War;
The fad Reflections coft me many a Tear:
I tremble when I hear the very Name
Of ev'ry Place where thou fhalt fight for Fame.
Befides th' adventurous Ravisher well knew
The fafeft Arts his Villany to pursue;
In noble Drefs he did her Heart furprize,
With Gold he dazzled her unguarded Eyes,
He back'd his Rape with Ships and armed Men,
Thus ftorm'd, thus took the beauteous Fortress in.
Against the Power of Love, and Force of Arms,
There's no Security in the brightest Charms.
Hector I fear, much do I He&or fear,
A Man (they fay) experienc'd in War.
My Dear, if thou haft any Love for me,
Of that fame Hector pr'ythee mindful be,
Fly him be fure, and every other Foe,
Left each of them fhould prove an Hector too.
Remember, when for Fight thou shalt prepare,
Thy Laodamia charg'd thee, have a care,
For what Wounds thou receiv'ft, are giv'n to her.
If by thy Valour Troy muft ruin'd be,
May not the Ruin leave one Scar on thee;
Sharer in th' Honour, from the Danger free!
Let Menelaus fight, and force his Way
Through the falfe Ravisher's Troops to his Helena.
Great by his Vict'ry, as his Caufe is good,
May he swim to her in his Enemies Blood,
Thy Cafe is different-May'ft thou live to fee
(Deareft) no other Combatant but me!
Ye gen'rous Trojans, turn your Swords away
From his dear Breaft, find out a nobler Prey :
Why should you harmless Laodamia slay ?
My poor good-natur'd Man did never know
What 'tis to fight, or how to face a Foe;
Yet in Love's Field what Wonders can he do!
Great is his Prowefs, and his Fortune too;
Let them go fight, who know not how to woo.
Now I must own, I fear'd to let thee go:
My trembling Lips had almoft told thee fo.
When from thy Father's House thou didst withdraw,
Thy fatal Stumble at the Door I saw,
I saw it, figh'd, and pray'd the Sign might be
Of thy Return a happy Prophecy!
I cannot but acquaint thee with my Fear,
Remember, Have a care,
And all my Dreads will vanish into Air.
Among the Grecians fome one must be found
That first shall fet his Foot on Trojan Ground;
Unhappy fhe that fhall his Lofs bewail,
Grant, O ye Gods, thy Courage then may fail.
Of all the Ships, be thine the very last,
Thou the laft Man that lands; there needs no hafle
To meet a potent and a treach❜rous Foe;
Thou'lt land, I fear, too foon, tho' ne'er so flow.
At thy Return ply ev'ry Sail and Oar,
And nimbly leap on thy deferted Shoar.
All the Day long, and all the lonely Night,
Black Thoughts of thee my anxious Soul affright:
Darkness, to other Womens Pleasures kind,
Augments, like Hell, the Torments of my
I court e'en Dreams, on my forsaken Bed,
Falfe Joys muft ferve, fince all my true are fled.
What's that fame airy Phantom fo like thee?
What Wailings do I hear, what Paleness fee?
I wake, and hug my felf, 'tis but a Dream-
The Grecian Altars know I feed their Flame.
The want of hallow'd Wine my Tears fupply,
Which make the facred Fire burn bright and high.
When shall I clafp thee in these Arms of mine,
Thefe longing Arms, and lie diffolv'd in thine
When shall I have thee by thy felf alone,
To learn the wond'rous Actions thou haft done?
Which when in rapt'rous Words thou haft begun,
With many and many a Kifs, pr'ythee tell on ;
Such Interruptions graceful Pauses are,
A Kifs in. Story's but an Halt in War.
But when I think of Troy, of Winds and Waves,
I fear the pleasant Dream my Hope deceives:
Contrary Winds in Port detain thee too,
In spite of Wind and Tide why wouldst thou go?
Thus to thy Country thou wouldst hardly come,
In spite of Wind and Tide thou went'st from home.
To his own City Neptune ftops the Way,
Revere the Omen, and the Gods obey.
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