And didst thou, perjured, dare to Athens go,
Nor dread the weight of Heaven’s avenging blow?
Could naught thy heart with sacred pity touch?
Naught make thy soul the baleful plot forego
’Gainst her that loved thee? Ah! not once were such
The vows, the hopes, thy smooth professions did avouch!
Then all was truth, then did thy honeyed tongue
Of wedded faith the flattering fable weave.
All, all unto the winds of heaven are flung!
Henceforth let never listening maid believe