LOVER. COQUETTE! coquette! now, is it fair To weave for me your magic hair, Binding me thus, all unaware? Till, wholly meshed in every part, From dazzled eyes to captured heart, Scarce can I, thro' your radiant snare, Inhale one waft of free-born air; Answer, coquette! now, is it fair? COQUETTE. O, foolish querist! what if I, Beholding your enamored face And every well-attested trace Of verdant, young idolatry, Should, after my own fashion, choose To play the subtly-amorous muse, Your inexperienced heart-strings touch, Wooing the warm chords overmuch! Or tempt you, 'twixt a smile and sigh, To enter beauty's luminous net? Such snares must evermore be set For blinded human flies like you! Cease, therefore, this half-feigned ado, @3You@1 are a natural victim! I Am by the same strange law's decree, Your dear, predestined enemy! LOVER. Is @3such@1 the only comfort, then, You give to thrice-deluded men? Suppose our life-plan quite upset, Reversed in whole, or changed in part; @3My@1 sex your own, and feelings strong, (Wiled by deep passion's syren song); @3Yours@1 the blind victim's tangled heart, And @3mine@1 to weave the tempter's net -- What then, O! honey-tongued coquette? COQUETTE. @3Such@1 questions! -- ah! @3mon Dieu! mon Dieu!@1 -- Fancy I've places changed with you! I cannot! 'tis too hard a task Of any mortal @3belle@1 to ask! [ASIDE @3with a half-humorous, half-solemn air.@1] Fancy @3my@1 person changed to @3his@1 By some odd metamorphosis! My fairy frame to that huge bulk That might befit red Rory O'Fulke, Our Irish groom! -- six feet, at least, Of stature -- with that boundless waist, Instead of mine, Titania might Quite envy on a "round-dance" night, By all the waltzing beaux adored! @3My@1 brow to that great, sabre-scored Brown forehead; and my cheeks of rose To bearded @3puffs@1; my delicate nose -- @3Quel horreur!@1 'tis a hideous dream! LOVER. For full five seconds, it would seem As if you really @3thought@1, coquette, On something grave! Slowly about Your flower-like lips' delicious pout, Came tiny puckerings, lined with doubt; Your large eyes widened deep and blue, As May-skies glimpsed thro' morning dew; And shadows vague as noon-tide trance Stole o'er your vivid countenance: Coquette! show pity! -- after all, @3Have@1 you resolved to free from thrall Your wretched serf? . . . Close, close your eyes For one brief, merciful minute; try To turn your perfect mouth awry; Let those arch smiles which magnetize My inmost blood be changed to scorn; Do all a winsome lady born To loveliness and witchery, can, To flout a love-tormented man! COQUETTE. You know as well as I What balms have soothed your slavery; Besides, @3I'm sure, whate'er you say@1, There never yet has dawned the day On which, in truth ('tis vain to frown), You longed to lay your fetters down. Surely but airy chains they are, And tenuous as the farthest star. But @3should@1 you break the binding net, You'd come . . . (ah! graceless, thankless loon!) 'Ere the next wax or wane of moon, To sigh, or call on "sweet coquette!" LOVER. Too much! by heaven! you heartless chit! I'll @3prove@1 you underrate my wit, And self-respect, for all that's passed! I will -- will break these bonds at last. Yes! look! you false, hard-hearted girl! I dash to earth the dazzling curl You gave me once! . . . your portrait too! . . . (O, yes! I @3stole@1 it, . . . what of that? 'Twill soon be shapeless, crushed and flat, Beneath my stern, avenging heel! Would it were @3flesh@1, and so could @3feel@1, . . . Where is it! @3where?@1 [@3He searches frantically, but vainly for the likeness in one pocket after another.@1] [COQUETTE -- approaching with infinite sweetness, rests one hand upon his shoulder, while the forefinger of the other is archly shaken in his angry face, that changes with ludicrous quickness, from passion to bewilderment, and from bewilderment to rapture]: . . . Why, Hal, for shame! you prayed just now, With earnest mien and solemn brow, That I would sting you with hot scorn; "@3Do all a winsome lady born To loveliness and witchery, can, To flout a love-tormented man.@1" And lo! because your bidding's done; Half-way, and mildly; why, I've won Such rude abuse! . . . I shall not stir, Till you have begged my pardon, sir! . . . Hal! @3do@1 you love me? . . . LOVER. . . . Angel! saint! @3Can@1 this be true! . . . my heart grows faint, With happiness! . . . so then, despite -- COQUETTE (@3interrupting@1). Yes, dear! of feigned contempt and slight, -- I have loved you always! who but @3you@1 Had failed thus long to read me true? You dear, delightful, blundering boy. LOVER. . . . Cupid be blessed! Oh, love! Oh, joy! . . . But where's that precious curl I threw Rashly away? . . . Already flown On some light wind? COQUETTE. ---- Yes, yes, 'tis gone! But then the whole bright, golden net (@3Shaking down her curls@1.) You've gained with me! . . . If still unfair You deem this soft, imprisoning snare; And self-respect, for all that's passed, Demands you break your bonds at last, Give me due warning -- if you please -- LOVER (@3embracing her@1). Ah! @3thus@1 a loving seal is set On rosy lips to keep them dumb; Some other eve beneath the trees Of golden summer, 'mid the hum Of forest brooks and hive-bound bees, I'll hearken, madcap, while you tease. But now, my heart the future years Sees through a mist of blissful tears; My eyes with gracious dew are wet; I'm dreaming! . . . No! . . . @3here@1 smiles coquette! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LITTLE ELF-MAN by JOHN KENDRICK BANGS EARTH'S ANSWER, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE OWL CRITIC by JAMES THOMAS FIELDS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ANNE RUTLEDGE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 43 by ALFRED TENNYSON MANHATTAN ARMING by WALT WHITMAN YOUTH, DAY, OLD AGE AND NIGHT by WALT WHITMAN |