The Governess of this Village is very charming to those that are acquainted with her; and as disagreeable to those that are not; she is a person of a great deal of Wit, and knows all things. She has a thousand ways to make herself understood, and comprehends all in a moment, that you wou’d or can say to her. In this place, to divert, we make a thousand pretty sorts of Entertainments; and we have abundance of Artifices, which signify nothing, and yet they serve to make life Agreeable and Pleasant. ’.was thus I liv’d at _Intelligence_; when I understood that _Bellimante_ was retir’d to _Cruelty_. This news afflicted me extreamly, but I was not now of a humour to swell the Floods with my tears, or increase the rude winds with my ruder sighs; to tear my hair and beat my Innocent breast as I us’d in my first Amour to do. However I was so far concern’d that I made it my business not to lose this insensible fair one, but making her a visit in spight of her retreat, I reproacht her with cruelty. Why, fair Maid, are you uneasy, When a slave designs to please you; When he at your feet is lying Sighing, languishing, and dying? Why do you preserve your charms Only for offensive Armes? What the Lover wou’d possess You maintain but to oppress. Cease, fair Maid, your cruel sway, And let your Lover dy a nobler way. Who the Devil wou’d not believe me as much in love now as I ever was with _Silvia_: My heart had learnt then all the soft Language of Love which now it cou’d prattle as naturally as its Mother Tongue; and sighing and dying was as ready for my mouth as when it came from my very heart; and cost me nothing to speak; Love being as cheaply made now by me as a barter for a Horse or a Coach; and with as little concern almost: It pleas’d me while I was speaking, and while I believ’d I was gaining the vanity and pleasure of a conquest over an unvanquisht heart. However I cou’d yet perceive no Grist come to my Mill; no heart to my Lure; young as it was, it had a cunning that was harder to deceive than all _Bellinda’s_ Wit: And seeing her persist still in her Resolution I left her with a heart, whose pride more than Passion resented the obdurat’ness of this Maid, I went as well compos’d however as I cou’d to _Intelligence_; and found even some pleasure in the cruelty and charming resistance of _Bellimante_, since I propos’d to myself an infinite happiness in softening a heart so averse to Love, and which I knew I shou’d compel to yield some time or other with very little pains and force. Oh! what Pleasure ‘tis to find A coy heart melt by slow degrees; When to yielding ‘tis inclin’d, Yet her fear a ruin sees. When her tears do kindly flow, And her sighs do come and goe.