Laughed the new-comer, and said: It is well; now am I to be thy mirror.
Thus it is with thee: thou standest before me a tall and slim maiden,
somewhat thin, as befitteth thy seventeen summers; where thy flesh is
bare of wont, as thy throat and thine arms and thy legs from the middle
down, it is tanned a beauteous colour, but otherwhere it is even as
fair a white, wholesome and clean, and as if the golden sunlight, which
fulfilleth the promise of the earth, were playing therein. Fairer and
rounder shall be thine arms and thy shoulders when thou hast seen five
more summers, yet scarce more lovesome, so strong and fine as now they
are. Low are thy breasts, as is meet for so young a maiden, yet is
there no lack in them; nor ever shall they be fairer than now they are.
In goodly fashion sits thine head upon thy shoulders, upheld by a long
and most well-wrought neck, that the sun hath tanned as aforesaid. The
hair of thee is simple brown, yet somewhat more golden than dark; and
ah! now thou lettest it loose it waveth softly past thy fair smooth
forehead and on to thy shoulders, and is not stayed by thy girdlestead,
but hideth nought of thy knees, and thy legs shapely thin, and thy
strong and clean-wrought ankles and feet, which are with thee as full
of thine heart and thy soul and as wise and deft as be thy wrists and
thine hands, and their very fellows. Now as to thy face: under that
smooth forehead is thy nose, which is of measure, neither small nor
great, straight, and lovely carven at the nostrils: thine eyen are as
grey as a hawk’s, but kind and serious, and nothing fierce nor
shifting. Nay, now thou lettest thine eyelids fall, it is as fair with
thy face as if they were open, so smooth and simple are they and with
their long full lashes. But well are thine eyen set in thine head, wide
apart, well opened, and so as none shall say thou mayst not look in the
face of them. Thy cheeks shall one day be a snare for the unwary, yet
are they not fully rounded, as some would have them; but not I, for
most pitiful kind are they forsooth. Delicate and clear-made is the
little trench that goeth from thy nose to thy lips, and sweet it is,
and there is more might in it than in sweet words spoken. Thy lips,
they are of the finest fashion, yet rather thin than full; and some
would not have it so; but I would, whereas I see therein a sign of thy
valiancy and friendliness. Surely he who did thy carven chin had a mind
to a master-work and did no less. Great was the deftness of thine
imaginer, and he would have all folk that see thee wonder at thy deep
thinking and thy carefulness and thy kindness. Ah maiden! is it so that
thy thoughts are ever deep and solemn? Yet at least I know it of thee
that they be hale and true and sweet.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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