From the Love Epistles of Aristaenetus
Translated by Richard Brinsley Sheridan (translation somewhat modified)

Epistle XXI: Cruel Companion


The god of the love-darting bow,
Whose bliss is man's heart to destroy,
Oft contrives to embitter our woe
By a specious resemblance of joy.
Long - long had Architeles sought
The fair Telesippe to gain:
She coolly his passion denied
Yet seem'd somewhat moved at his pain.


At length she consented to hear;
But 'twas done with a view to beguile:
For her terms were most harsh and severe,
And a frown was as good as her smile.


"You may freely," says she, "touch my breast,
And kiss, while a kiss has its charms;
And (provided I am not undrest)
Encircle me round in your arms.


"In short, any favor you please,
But expect not, nor think of the last:
Lest enraged I revoke my decrees,
And your sentence of exile be cast." -


"Be it so," cried the youth, with delight,
"Thy pleasure, my fair one, is mine:
Since I'm blest as a prince at your sight,
Sure to touch thee, will make me divine.


"But why keep one favor alone,
And grant such a number beside?" -
"Because the men value the boon
But only so long as denied.


"They seek it with labor and pain;
When gain'd, throw it quickly away:
For youth is unsettled and vain,
And its choice scarce persists for a day."


- Thus pines the poor victim away,
forced to nibble and starve on a kiss.
Serve worse than e'en eunuchs - for they
Can never feel torture like this.