Historians tell you, I endeavoured to reign in every heart, whatever it cost me, without any regard to the owner’s birth and condition: But do you think that so very criminal? Does a little kindness deserve so severe a censure? Must persons of quality be always oblig’d to have an eye on their dignity? and did not he that made the prince, make the coachman? But what I cannot with patience suffer, is the impudent lie some have made concerning _Ovid_; that versifyer had a nicer fancy in poetry than beauty; like your father, _My dear sister_, he imagin’d wonderful charms in grey hairs; for _Marcellus_ was but newly dead when he fell in love with _Livia_. ’Twas her he celebrated under the feigned name of _Corinna_; and when he pleas’d, disciplin’d, she, like a child not daring to resist. Thus people being ignorant of closer privacies, invent malicious lies; for do you suppose I would have suffer’d such insolent usage? And that if I had not been strong enough to have cuff’d that rhiming puppy, I would not have found out some other way to have been even with him? You very well see my reasons have some appearance of truth, and I am confident, that when we meet we shall agree very well. The emperor who had his private amours, never troubled those of his wife; and _Merena_’s spouse, proud of possessing the affections of so great a monarch, returned in soft embraces the favours bestowed on her husband. I have insensibly made you an ingenuous consession; do you the same, madam, for hell is so damnable tiresome, that I gape and stretch a thousand times an hour. When your hand is in, pray send me word what they are doing in your part of the world; but above all, give me a true account of your amours and conquests; for those relations tickle us, even when we have lost the power of acting. Therefore to invite you to be very plain with me, as likewise to divert myself in my present melancholy moments, I will give you some of my thoughts in metre, such as it is. _A mighty monarch you begot,_ _Who’s pious as the devil;_ _Your mother too, by all is thought,_ _To be extreamly civil._ _Descending from so bright a pair,_ _You both their gifts inherit;_ _All your great father’s virtue share,_ _And all your mother’s merit._ _When I was young and gay like you,_ _I lov’d my recreation_; Mamma’s _dear steps I did pursue,_ _And balk’d no inclination_. _And, madam, when your charms are gone,_ _Your lovers will forsake you;_ _They’ll cry your sporting days are done,_ _And bid old_ Pluto _take you_. _Thus I have given all trading o’er._ _And wisely left off sporting;_ _Resolv’d to practise it no more,_ _After my reign of courting._