MENELAUS SPEAKS WITH HELEN

But when he had her there, sharp root of ill

To him and his, safeguarded from him still,

Too sweet to be forgotten, too much marred

By usage to be what she seemed, bescarred,

Behandled, too much lost and too much won,

Mock image making horrible the sun

That once had shown her pure for his demesne,

And still revealed her lovely, and unclean—

Despair turned into stone what had been kind,

And bitter surged his griefs, to flood his mind.

"O ruinous face," said he, "O evil head,

Art thou so early from the wicked bed?

So prompt to slough the snugness of thy vice?

Or is it that in luxury thou art nice

Become, and dalliest?" Low her head she hung

[24]

And moved her lips. As when the night is young

The hollow wind presages storm, his moan

Came wailing at her. "Ten years here, alone,

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