Now let our Just Historick Tale remove,
The Queen must give Account for lawless Love;
To All-devouring  her Charms give Way,
Her Looks not lovely now, nor briskly Gay;
No Fire her Eyes, her Veins no amourous Flame;
But in her Heart Remorse, Repentance, Shame,
Confusion, Sorrow, a Melancholly Train
Perplex her Soul, and keep her Mind in pain;
vile Wrongs, stand Glaring in her View;
That Thought does all her secret Steps pursue,
The Hag that nightly loads her tortur'd Breast,
And never lets her tast the Sweets of Balmy Rest;
A ling'ring Sickness follows, pining Grief;
Nor can the Sons of Art bring wish'd Relief:
With down-cast Eyes, they approach th' dying Fair,
Their Solemn Looks discover their Dispair:
Gashly the King of Terrours does appear;
Black Guilt adds Horrour to tormenting Fear:
She looks around, and sees no Comfort nigh,
Spight of Imperial Greatness, she must dye;
To bear the Shock, she Summons former Pride,
She's grown too weak, all Aid is now deny'd:
Then let us yield; she sigh'd, and faintly said,
And sunk upon the Bosome of a faithful Maid;
Fetch here the Council, and the injur'd King,
Than Death, my Friends, I have a sharper Sting;
I cannot dye in Peace, while 'tis conceal'd,
And I must dye, for Shame, when 'tis reveal'd.
The waiting Slaves straight her Commands obey,
Eager the King, to hear what she wou'd say:
With weeping Eyes, he view'd departing Life,
And call'd her by the tender Names of Love and Wife.
Oh Prince! She cry'd, behold  lost!
And sinking down, a guilty, guilty Ghost;
Unless great  Race you can restore,
I'm wrack'd on Earth with Pangs, and plung into more.
Forgive your Wife, let Mountains hide her Shame,
Mine was the Sin, mine th' impetuous Flame,
And curs'd  only was to blame.
In this Cabinet you'll find the Story writ,
If 'tis possible, my fatal Crimes forget.
to Honour straight, and Grace retrieve,
And Natures Faults, let Heav'en and you forgive:
This said,
Nature asham'd, her Soul to earth inclin'd,
Broke the weak Tyes of her Majestick Mind,
That it might mount to purer Regions uncon.
Reason and Sense, from th' affrighted King is fled,
To hear th' unsuspected Guilt, and see her Dead;
Reviv'd, the Search of Truth his Soul pursues,
And with Amazement, he the Paper views,
Where every secret Thought, he saw confest,
And every guilty Wish that fill'd her Breast;
He groan'd to think how much he'd been de,
And said, no beauteous Woman e'er shou'd be believ'd.