Page:Hero and Leander - Marlowe and Chapman (1821).pdf/98

 And thus bespake him: "Gentle youth, forbear To touch the sacred garments which I wear. Upon a rock, and underneath a hill, Far from the town, (where all is whist and still, Save that the sea, playing on yellow sand, Sends forth a rattling murmur to the land, Whose sound allures the golden Morpheus, In silence of the night to visit us,) My turret stands, and there, God knows, I play With Venus' swans and sparrows all the day. A dwarfish beldam bears me company, That hops about the chamber where I lie, And spends the night, that might be better spent, In vain discourse and apish merriment: Come thither!" As she spake this, her tongue tripp'd; For unawares, Come thither, from her slipp'd; And suddenly her former colour chang'd, And here and there her eyes through anger rang'd; And like a planet moving several ways At one self instant, she, poor soul, essays, Loving, not to love at all, and every part Strove to resist the motions of her heart. And hands so pure, so innocent, nay such As might have made Heaven stoop to have a touch,