And rankly thou dost smell! Away, lest thou defilest me!"
Having thus said, she spattered on her bosom twice or thrice;
And, still beholding me from top to toe in scornful wise,
She muttered with her lips; and with her eyes she looked aside,
And of her beauty wondrous coy she was; her mouth she wryed,
And proudly mocked me to my face. My blood boiled in each vein,
And red I wox for grief as doth the rose with dewy rain.
Thus leaving me, away she flang! Since when, it vexeth me
That I should be so scorned of such a filthy drab as She.
"Ye shepherds, tell me true, am not I as fair as any swan?