"NO, fair DANCINDA, no; you strive in vain
"To calm my care and mitigate my pain;
"If all my sighs, my cares, can fail to move,
"Ah! sooth me not with fruitless vows of love. "
Thus STREPHON spoke. DANCINDA thus reply'd:
What must I do to gratify your pride?
Too well you know (ungrateful as thou art)
How much you triumph in this tender heart:
What proof of love remains for me to grant?
Yet still you tease me with some new complaint.
Oh! would to heav'n! — but the fond wish is vain —
Too many favours had not made it plain!
But such a passion breaks through all disguise,
Love reddens on my cheek and wishes in my eyes.
Is't not enough (inhuman and unkind!)
I own the secret conflict of my mind;
You cannot know what secret pain I prove,
When I with burning blushes own I love.
You see my artless joy at your approach,
I sigh, I faint, I tremble at your touch;
And in your absence all the world I shun;
I hate mankind, and curse the chearing sun.
Still as I fly, ten thousand swains pursue;
Ten thousand swains I sacrifice to you.
I shew you all my heart without disguise:
But these are tender proofs that you despise —
I see too well what wishes you pursue;
You wou'd not only conquer, but undo:
You, cruel victor, weary of your flame,
Would seek a cure in my eternal shame;
And not content my honour to subdue,
Now strive to triumph o'er my virtue too.
Oh! LOVE, a god indeed to womankind,
Whose arrows burn me and whose fetters bind,
Avenge thy altars, vindicate thy fame,
And blast these traytors that profane thy name;
Who by pretending to thy sacred fire,
Raise cursed trophies to impure desire.