Chapter 63 of 189 · 152 words · ~1 min read

XXXII.

CRAVING IPSITHILLA'S LAST FAVOURS.

I'll love my Ipsithilla sweetest, My desires and my wit the meetest, So bid me join thy nap o' noon! Then (after bidding) add the boon Undraw thy threshold-bolt none dare, 5 Lest thou be led afar to fare; Nay bide at home, for us prepare Nine-fold continuous love-delights. But aught do thou to hurry things, For dinner-full I lie aback, 10 And gown and tunic through I crack.

I'll love thee, my sweet Ipsithilla, my delight, my pleasure: an thou bid me come to thee at noontide. And an thou thus biddest, I adjure thee that none makes fast the outer door [against me], nor be thou minded to gad forth, but do thou stay at home and prepare for us nine continuous conjoinings. In truth if thou art minded, give instant summons: for breakfast o'er, I lie supine and ripe, thrusting through both tunic and cloak.