But let me live contented as I may,
And make not my unspotted fame your prey.
Some right you claim, fince naked to your eyes
Three goddeffes difputed beauty's prize:
One offer'd value, t'other crowns; but she
Obtain'd her caufe, who fmiling promis'd me.
But, first, I am not of belief fo light,
To think fuch nymphs wou'd fhew you fuch a fight.
Yet, granting this, the other part is feign'd:
A bribe so mean, your fentence had not gain'd.
With partial eyes I fhould myself regard,
To think that VENUS made me her reward:
I humbly am content with human praise;
A goddess's applaufe would envy raise.
But be it as you fay; for 'tis confeft,
The men who flatter highest, please us beft:
That I fufpect it, ought not to displease;
For miracles are not believ'd with ease.
One joy I have, that I had VENUS' voice;
A greater yet, that you confirm'd her choice;
That proffer'd laurels, promis'd fov'reignty,
JUNO and PALLAS, you contemn'd for me.
Am I your empire then, and your renown?
What heart of rock but must 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 those nymphs, whom ufe has perfect made;
I think all crime, and tremble at a fhade.
Ev'n while I write, my fearful confcious
Look often back, mifdoubting a furprize.
For now the rumour spreads 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 you will diffemble it, you may.
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 unresolv'd he stood,
I bid him make what swift return he could:
Then kiffing me, he said, I recommend
All to thy care, but most my Trojan friend.
I fmil'd at what he innocently faid,
And only anfwer'd, you shall be obey'd.
Propitious winds have born him far from hence,
But let not this fecure your confidence.
Abfent he is, yet abfent he commands:
You know the proverb, "Princes have long hands."
My fame's my burthen; 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 trusted to my life,
The beauty doubted, but beliey'd the wife.
You bid me use th'occasion while I can,
Put in our hands by the good easy man.
I would, and yet I doubt, 'twixt love and fear;
One draws me from you, and one brings me near.
Our flames are 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 fhou'd 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 supprest.
The faith of strangers is too prone to change,
And, like themselves, their wand'ring paffions range.
HYPSIPYLE, and the fond Minoian maid,
Were both by trufting of their guest betray'd.
How can I doubt that other men deceive,
When you yourself did fair OENONE leave?
But left I fhou'd 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 while I fee, I fhall expofe my fame;
And fill a foreign country
In Afia what reception shall I find?
And what dishonour leave in Greece behind?
What will your brothers, PRIAM, HECUBA,
And what will all your modest matrons say?
Ev'n you, when on this action you reflect,
My future conduct justly may suspect:
And whate'er stranger lands upon your coast,
Conclude me, by your own example, loft.
I, from your rage, a ftrumpet's name shall hear,
While you forget what part in it you bear.
You, my crime's author, will my crime upbraid:
Deep under ground, oh! let me first be laid!
You boast the pomp and plenty of your land,
And promise all shall be at my command:
Your Trojan wealth, believe me, I defpife;
My own poor native land has dearer ties.
Shou'd I be injur'd on your Phrygian shore,
What help of kindred cou'd I there implore?
MEDEA was by JASON's flatt'ry won:
I may, like her, believe and be undone.
Plain honeft hearts, like mine, fufpect no cheat,
And love contributes to its own deceit.
The fhips, about whofe fides loud tempeîts roar,
With gentle winds were wafted from the shore,
Your teeming mother dreamt a flaming brand,
Sprung from her womb, confum'd the Trojan land;
To fecond this, old prophecies confpire,
That Ilium fhall be burnt with Grecian fire:
Both give me fear, nor is it much allay'd,
That VENUS is oblig'd our loves to aid.
For they who lost their cause, revenge will take,
And for one friend two enemies you make.
Nor can I doubt, but fhould I follow you,
The fword would foon our fatal crime pursue:
A wrong fo great my husband's rage would rouze,
And my relations would his cause espouse.
You boast your strength and courage; but, alas!
Your words receive fmall credit from your face.
Let heroes in the dufty field delight,
Those limbs were fashion'd for another fight.
Bid HECTOR fally from the walls of Troy;
A fweeter quarrel fhould your arms employ.
Yet fears like these shou'd not my mind perplex,
Were I as wife as many of my sex:
But time and you may bolder thoughts inspire;
And I, perhaps, may yield to your defire.
You laft demand a private conference:
These are your words; but I can guess your fenfe.
Your unripe hopes their harvest must attend:
Be rul'd by me, and time may be your friend.
This is enough to let you understand,
For now my pen has tir'd my tender hand;
My woman knows the fecret of my heart,
And may, hereafter, better news impart.
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