PATCH. Early this morn-(but I was ask'd to come) Warm from her bed, to me alone within, She wore no waistcoat, and her shift was thin, See TITIANA driving to the park! See TINTORETTA to the opera goes! Haste, or the crowd will not permit our bows; SILLIANDER. What colour does in CALIA's ftockings shine? Reveal that secret, and the prize is thine. PATCH. PATCH. What are her garters? tell me if you can; I'll freely own thee far the happier man. Thus PATCH continued his heroic strain, While SILLIANDER but contends in vain, WEDNESDAY. The Tête à Tête. DANCINDA. O, fair DANCINDA, no; you ftrive in vain To calm my care, and mitigate my pain; "If all my fighs, my cares, can fail to move, "Ah! footh me not with fruitlefs vows of love." Thus STREPHON fpoke. 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 ftill you tease me with fome new complaint. Oh! Oh! would to heav'n!-but the fond wish is vain➡ Too many favours had not made it plain! But fuch a paffion 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 fecret pain I prove, Ten thousand swains I facrifice to you. I fhew you all my heart without disguise: Avenge thy altars, vindicate thy fame, Who by pretending to thy facred fire, Raise curfed trophies to impure defire. Have you forgot with what enfnaring art You first feduc'd this fond uncautious heart? Then as I fled, did you not kneeling cry, "Turn, cruel beauty; whither would you fly? "Why all these doubts? why this diftrustful fear? "No impious wishes fhall offend your ear: "Nor ever shall my boldest hopes prétend "Above the title of a tender friend; "Bleft, if my lovely goddess will permit My humble vows, thus fighing at her feet. "The tyrant Love that in my bofom reigns, "The god himself submits to wear your chains. "You fhall direct his courfe, his ardour tame, "And check the fury of his wildest flame." Unpractis'd youth is easily deceiv'd; Sooth'd by fuch founds, I listen'd and believ'd; Now quite forgot that soft fubmiffive fear, You dare to ask what I must blush to hear. Could I forget the honour of my race, And meet your wishes, fearlefs of difgrace; Could Could paffion o'er my tender youth prevail, Yet to preserve your heart (which still must be, This fatal proof of love I would not give, Which you'd contemn the moment you receive. Yet if I could that cold indifference bear, What more would strike me with the last despair, "Has love no pleasures free from guilt or fear? "Pleasures lefs fierce, more lafting, more fincere ? "Thus let us gently kifs and fondly gaze, "Love is a child, and like a child it plays.” O STREPHON, if you would continue juft, If love be fomething more than brutal lust, Forbear to afk what I must ftill deny, This bitter pleasure, this deftructive joy, So closely follow'd by the difmal train Of cutting shame, and guilt's heart-piercing pain. She |