Had Troy ftill flood, had every Grecian Dame
Become a Prey to th' haughty Victor's Flame,
What could I more have fuffer'd than I do ?
Far more than poor Andromache e'er knew.
But oh, my Dear! if, as I have for thee,
Thou haft a tender Care, or Thought for me,
Come bravely on, and as robb'd Tygers bold,
Snatch me half murther'd from the Monster's hold.
Can you purfue each petty Robber's Life?
And yet thus tamely lose a ravish'd Wife?
Think how my Father Menelaus rag'd
For his loft Queen, think what a War he wag'd,
When pow'rful Greece was in his Caufe engag'd.
Had he fat quietly, and nothing try'd,
As once he was, fhe'd ftill been Paris' Bride.
Prepare no Fleet, you will no Forces need,
By you, and only you, I would be freed.
Not but wrong'd Marriage is a Caufe alone
Sufficient for th' engaging World to own.
Sprung from the Royal Pelopean Line,
You are no less by Blood than Marriage mine.
Thefe double Ties a double Love perfuade,
And each fufficient to deserve your Aid.
I to your Arms was by my Guardian giv❜n,
The only Bliss I would have begg'd from Heav'n.
But that unknown, (O my unhappy Fate!)
My Father gave me to the Man I hate.
Just were those Infant Vows to you I made,
But this laft Act has all thofe Vows betray'd.
Too well he knows what 'tis to be in Love; i
How can he then my Paffion disapprove ♪
Since Love himself has felt, he will, nay muft,
Allow this Paffion in his Daughter just.
My Fate resembles my wrong'd Father's Cafe,
And Pyrrhus is that Thief that Paris was.
Let my proud Goaler the brave Deeds run o'er,
Count all the Laurels his great Parents wore,
What e'er his cou'd, yours greater did, and more.
Let him claim Kindred with fome God above,
You are defcended from the mighty Jove.
Brave as you are, I with 'twere understood
By fomething elfe, than by Egiftbus' Blood;
Yet you are Innocent, Fate drew the Sword,
And a religious Duty gave the Word.
With this the Tyrant does my Lord difgrace,
And what's still worse, dares do it to my Face:
Whilst burft with Envy, I am forc❜d to be
Rackt, and tormented with his Blafphemy.
Shall my Oreftes be abus'd, and I
As one that's unconcern'd fit careless by?
No, though difabled, and of Arms bereft,
Yet as a Woman I have one way left,
Tears I can shed, fuch as will yield Relief
To my fick Mind, choak'd with excefs of Grief;
For when the big-charg'd Storm hath loft its Pow'r,
It fighs it felf into a filent Show'r.
This I can do, whilft by each other preft,
The dewy Pearls run trickling o'er my Breast.
But how fhou'd I this fatal Woe escape?
All our whole Race was fubject to a Rape:
I need not tell, how, in foft Feathers dreft,
The wanton God his fofter Nymph possest;
How thro' the Deep in unknown Ships convey'd
Hippodamé was from her Friends betray'd;
How the fair Tyndaris, by Force detain❜d,
By th' Amyclean Brethren was regain'd,
How afterwards by all the Grecian Pow'r
She was brought back from the Idaan Shore.
I scarce remember that fad Day, and yet,
Young as I was, I do remember it.
Her Brothers wept, her Sifter, to remove
Her Fears, call'd on the Gods, and her own Jove,
Mother, faid I, in a weak mournful Tone,
Will you
When you are gone, why shou'd I ftay behind?
All this I fpoke, but fpoke it to the Wind.
Now like the rest of my curft Pedigree,
be gone, and leave me here alone?
By this loath'd Wretch I am detain'd from thee,
The brave Achilles wou'd have blam'd his Son,
Nor, had he liv'd, wou'd this have e'er been done.
He ne'er had thought it lawful to divide
Those two, whom Marriage had fo firmly ty❜d.
What is't, ye Gods, that thus provokes your Hate,
Or what curs'd Star rules my unhappy Fate?
Why am I plagu'd by your injurious Pow'r,
Robb'd of my Parents in a tender Hour?
He to the War, fhe with her Lover fled,
Though living both, yet both to me were dead.
No babbling Words, half fram'd upon my Tongue,
Lull'd me to foft Repose when I was young.
Your tender Neck was ne'er embrac'd by me,
Nor fat I ever fmiling on your Knee;
D
You never tended me, nor was I led
By thee (dear Mother) to my Marriage-Bed.
At your Return, I faw, but knew you not;
So fure my Mother's Face I had forgot.
I gaz'd, and gaz'd, but knew no Feature there,
Yet thought 'twas you, 'cause so divinely Fair.
Such was our Ignorance, even you, álas!.
Afk'd your own Daughter, where your Daughter was.
Thou, my Oreftes, wert my fole Delight,
Yet thee too I must lofe, unless you fight.
Pyrrhus withholds me from thy Arms, that's all
Hermione has gain'd by Ilium's Fall.
Soon as the early Harbinger of Day
Gilds the glad Orb with his refplendent Ray;
My Grief's made gentler by th' approaching Light,
And fome Pain feems to vanish with the Night;
And when a Darkness o'er the Earth is spread,
And I return all penfive to my Bed,
Tears from my Eyes, as Streams from Fountains flow,
I fhun this Husband, as I fhun a Foe.
Oft grown unmindful through diftractive Cares,
I've stretch'd my Arms, and touch'd him unawares ;
Strait then I check the wand'ring Senfe, and fly
To the Bed's utmoft Limits, yet I lie
Restless even there, and think I'm stil! too nigh.
Oft I for Pyrrhus have Oreftes faid,
But bleft the Error which my Tongue had made.
Now by that Royal God, whose Frown can make
The Vaffal Globe of his Creation shake,
Th' Almighty Sire of our unhappy Race,
And by the facred Urn that does embrace
Thy Father's Duft, whose once loud Blood may boast
Thou in Repofe haft laid his fleeping Ghoft;
I'll either live my dear Oreftes' Wife,
Or to untimely Fate refign my Life.
|