[NPM] You lowdown dirty dog...

This is a stitch. Apparently, Ovid wrote a series of poems as letters from the women of mythology to their men. This one is from Paris's first wife, the nymph Oenone...

V: Oenone to Paris

Translated by A. S. Kline

The Nymph sends words you ordered her to write,
from Mount Ida, to her Paris, though you refuse her as yours.
Will you read them? Or does your new wife forbid it?
Read! This is not a letter created by a Mycenean hand.
I, Oenone, the fountain-nymph, famous in Phrygian woods,
wounded, complain of you, who are my own if you allow it.
What god opposes my prayers with his divine will?
Might I be suffering from some crime of yours that harms me?
Whatever one deserves to suffer should be borne lightly:
what comes undeservedly, comes as bitter punishment.
You were not important as yet, when I was happy
with you as my husband, I, a nymph born of a mighty river.
( You who now are a son of Priam, (let fear of the truth be absent) )