In adoration of beauteous Julia,
I compose this letter. Pretentious of
Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus
To the sweet Julia, assuming justice done
When justice needs be won. The world, peopled
By half-colored paintings commissioned in
The darkest of rooms by the blindest of
Painters, can never compare to thine own
Qualities. How a being of such a
World is born is beyond comprehension.
Only in the eyes of Zeus could you have
Been conceived, for the world's pleasures pale at
The sight of thine goodness, wit, and beauty.
Kind Julia, my heart can no longer endure
The arrow in silence for I lack the
Restraint of Odysseus. In agony
I lie, waiting for a whisper of hope.
Could Julia, perfection divine, possibly
Save the base life of love-wounded Proteus?
My heart cannot bear the answer, yet it
Yearns for absolution. For surely, a
Swinish, lowly man such as myself is
Not worth such noble, heavenly affections.
Proteus, forever your servant, shall wait
Upon thine answer with desperate wish.
If no, then abjure the sight of Proteus.
Please. Your pity at the knowledge of my
Aspirations would be more painful than
Hate, although I know that you posses none.
If yes, and oh ye gods divine be yes,
Then meet me at your garden gate morrow
As your charioted kin, Helios,
Rides round the bend o' th' Earth at night's fall.
I eagerly await your decision
Whether bad or good, my love eternal.
Proteus