Abfent he is, yet absent 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 Jealousy 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 cafy Man.
I wou'd, 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 shou'd Force em
A Rape is requifite to fhame-fac'd Joy:
Indulgent to the Wrongs which we receive,
Our Sex 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.
HYPSIPYLE, and the fond Minoian Maid,
Were both by trusting of their Gueft betray'd.
How can I doubt that other Men deceive,
When you your felf 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 Sails are hoifted, and you take your Flight;
Some bawling Mariner our Love deftroys,
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 expose my Fame;
And fill a foreign Country with my shame.
In Afia what Reception fhall I find?
And what Difhonour leave in Greece behind?
What will your Brothers, PRIAM, HECUBA,
And what will all your modcft Matrons say?
Ev'n you, when on this Action you reflect,
My future Conduct juftly may fufpect:
And whate'er Stranger lands upon your Coast,
Conclude me, by your own Example, loft.
I from your Rage a Strumpet's Name fhall 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 fhall 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 honest Hearts, like mine, fufpect no Cheat, 'And Love contributes to its own Deceit.
The Ships, about whose fides loud Tempests roar,
With gentle Winds were wafted from the Shoar.
Your teeming Mother dreamt a flaming Brand
Sprung from her Womb, confum'd the Trojan Lands
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 loft their Caufe, Revenge will take, And for one Friend two Enemies you make.
Nor can I doubt but should I follow you,
The Sword would foon our fatal Crime pursue:
A Wrong so great my Husband's Rage would rouže,
my Relations would his Caufe efpouse.
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 sweeter Quarrel fhould your Arms employ.
Yet Fears like thefe fhou'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 last demand a private Conference:
These are your Words, but I can guess your Senfe.
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 Secret of my Heart,
And may, hereafter, better News impart.
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