Greater love but rouses.Invitations they've had too,
When she, in Ida's retreats, own'd to Anchises her flame?Had but Luna delayd to kiss the beautiful sleeper,
So that in their snares, the weaponsOne would think, must needs be captured,Soon, in truth, the spears are prison'd;Yet they, in the gentle war-dance,One by one escape their fettersIn the row of loops so tender,That make haste to seize a free oneSoon as they release a captive.
That with the curtain sports.
So the wife of Asan turns to meet him,Clasps her arms in anguish round her brother:"See thy sister's sad disgrace, oh brother!How I'm banish'd--mother of five children!"Silently her brother from his wallet,Wrapp'd in deep red-silk, and ready written,Draweth forth the letter of divorcement,To return home to her mother's dwelling,Free to be another's wife thenceforward.
Borne by weakness' stream along,
Show the fierce destroyer's hand.
I after her spy.
Erect his head, and firm his tread,
I doubt not, in thy bosom.
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