More to my wish I could have liv'd with you,
And yet my present lot can undergo.
Ceafe to follicit a weak woman's will,
And
not her
urge
love to fo much ill.
you
But let me live contented as I may,

And make not my unfpotted fame your prey.
Some right you claim, fince naked to your eyes
Three Goddeffes difputed beauty's prize :
One offer'd valour, t'other crowns; but she
Obtain'd her cause, who smiling promis'd me.
But first I am not of belief fo light,
To think fuch nymphs would fhew you
fight:

fuch a

Yet granting this, the other part is feign'd;
A bribe fo mean your sentence had not gain'd.
With partial eyes I should myself regard,

To think that Venus made me her reward:
I humbly am content with human praise;
A Goddess's applause would envy raife.
But be it as you fay; for, 'tis confeft,
The men, who flatter higheft, please us beft.
That I fufpect it, ought not to displease ;
For miracles are not believ'd with eafe.

One joy I have, that I had Venus' voice;
A
greater yet, that you confirm'd her choice;

That proffer'd laurels, promis'd fovereignty,
Juno and Pallas contemn'd for me.
you
Am I your empire then, and your renown?
What heart of rock, but muft by this be won?
And yet bear witness, O you Pow'rs above,
How rude I am in all the arts of love!
My hand is yet untaught to write to men:
This is th' effay of
my unpractis'd pen.
Happy thofe nymphs, whom ufe has perfect made!
I think all crime, and tremble at a shade.
E'en while I write, my fearful confcious eyes
Look often back, mifdoubting a surprise.
For now the rumor fpreads among the croud,
At court in whispers, but in town aloud:
Diffemble you, whate'er you hear 'em say:
To leave off loving were your better way;
Yet if
will diffemble it, you may.
you

Love fecretly: the abfence of my lord
More freedom gives, but does not all afford:
Long is his journey, long will be his stay;
Call'd by affairs of confequence away.
To go, or not, when unrefolv'd he ftood,
I bid him make what fwift return he could:
Then kiffing me, he faid, I recommend
All to thy care, but moft my Trojan friend.

I fmil'd at what he innocently faid,
And only answer'd, You shall be obey'd.
Propitious winds have born him far from hence,
But let not this fecure your confidence.
Absent he is, yet abfent he commands:
"Princes have long

You know the proverb,

hands."

My fame's my burden; for the more I'm prais'd, A jufter ground of jealoufy is rais'd.

Were I lefs fair, I might have been more bleft:
Great beauty through great danger is poffeft.
To leave me here his venture was not hard,
Because he thought my virtue was my guard.
He fear'd my face, but trufted to my life,
The beauty doubted, but believ'd the wife.
You bid me ufe th' occafion while I can,
Put in our hands by the good eafy man.
I would, and yet I doubt, 'twixt love and fear;
One draws me from you, and one brings me near.
Our flames our mutual, and my husband's gone:
The nights are long; I fear to lie alone.
One house contains us, and weak walls divide,
And you're too preffing to be long deny'd.
Let me not live, but ev'ry thing confpires
To join our loves, and yet my

fear retires.

You court with words, when you should force

employ:

A rape is requifite to fhame-fac'd joy.
Indulgent to the wrongs, which we receive,
Our fex can fuffer what we dare not give.
What have I faid? for both of us 'twere beft,
Our kindling fire if each of us fuppreft.

The faith of strangers is too prone to change,
And, like themselves, their wand'ring paffions

་

range.

Hypfipile, and the fond Minonian maid,
Were both by trusting of their guests betray'd.
How can I doubt that other men deceive,
When you yourself did fair Oenone leave?
But left I should upbraid your treachery,
You make a merit of that crime to me.
Yet
grant you were to faithful love inclin'd,
Your weary Trojans wait but for a wind.
Should you prevail; while I affign the night,
Your fails are hoifted, and you take your flight:
Some bawling mariner our love destroys,
And breaks afunder our unfinish'd joys.
But I with you may leave the Spartan port,
To view the Trojan wealth and Priam's court:

Shown

Shown while I fee, I fhall expofe my fame,
And fill a foreign country with my shame.
In Afia what reception fhall I find?

And what difhonor leave in Greece behind?
What will your brothers, Priam, Hecuba,
And what will all your modeft matrons say?
E'en you, when on this action you reflect,
My future conduct justly may suspect ;
And whate'er ftranger lands upon your coaft,
Conclude me, by your own example, lost.
I from your rage a ftrumpet's name shall hear,
you forget what part in it you bear.

While

You, my crime's author, will my crime upbraid:
Deep under ground, oh, let me first be laid!
You boaft the pomp and plenty of
your land,
And promise all shall be at my command:
Your Trojan wealth, believe me, I despise;
My own poor native land has dearer ties.
Should I be injur'd on your Phrygian shore,
What help of kindred could I there implore?
Medea was by Jafon's flatt'ry won:

I may, like her, believe, and be undone.
Plain honeft hearts, like mine, suspect no cheat,
And love contributes to its own deceit.

VOL. IV.

H