_Must we eternal Martyrdom pursue?_ _Must we still_ Love, _and always suffer too?_ _Must we continue still to dye,_ _And ne’r declare the cruel Cause;_ _Whilst the fair Murdress asks not why,_ _But triumphs in her rigorous Laws;_ _And grows more mighty in disdain,_ } _More Peevish, Humorous, Proud and Vain_ } _The more we languish by our Pain?_ } _And when we Vow, Implore, and Pray,_ _Shall the Inhumane cruel fair_ _Only with nice disdain the sufferer pay?_ _Consult her Pride alone in the affair,_ _And coldly cry--In time perhaps I may--_ _Consider and redress the Youth’s despair;_ _And when she wou’d a Period put to’s Fate,_ _Alas, her cruel Mercy comes too late!_ But wise _Respect_ obligingly reply’d, Amintas _Cruelty you need not dread,_ _Your Passion by your Eyes will soon be known,_ _Without this hast to Declaration;_ _’.is I will guide you where you still shall find,_ Aminta _in best Humour and most kind._ Strong were his Arguments; his Reasonings prove Too pow’rful for the angry God of _Love_. Who by degrees t’ his native softness came, Yields to _Respect_ and owns his haste a blame. Both vow obedience to his judging Wit, And to his graver Conduct both submit, Who now invites us to a Reverend place, An ancient Town, whose Governor he was. Impregnable, with Bastions fortify’d, Guarded with fair built Walls on every side, The top of which the Eye cou’d scarce discern, So strong as well secur’d the Rich concern; _Silence_ with _Modesty_ and _Secrecy_, Have all committed to their Custody. _Silence_ to every questions ask’d, replies With apt Grimasses of the Face and Eyes; Her Finger on her Mouth; and as you’ve seen, Her Picture, Handsom, with fantastick mean, Her every Motion her Commands express, But seldom any the hid Soul confess. The _Virgin Modesty_ is wond’rous fair, A bashful Motion, and a blushing Air; With unassur’d regard her Eyes do move, Untaught by affectation or Self-love; Her Robes not gaudy were, nor loosely ty’d, But even concealing more then need be hid. For _Secrecie_, one rarely sees her Face, Whose lone Apartment is some Dark recess; From whence unless some great affairs oblige, She finds it difficult to dis-ingage; Her voice is low, but subtilly quick her Ears, And answers still by signs to what she hears. --Led by _Respect_ we did an entrance get, Not saying any thing, who ere we met. The City of DISCRETION.