384 THE POEMS OF ANNE �Oh! yet, ere you proceed to view that Paper, �[She throws herself at Aristomenes Feet. (Wrapt in Confusion) hear your Daughter speak, �[As he is opening the Letter. And pity in her Fate all Women's Frailty. �Aristom. Ha! Thou dost much surprize me; but go on, And, 'till she has finish'd, let no Word be utter'd. �Dema. By all my fleeting Sorrows 'tis my Love: 120 Nor cou'd I, but to hear her speak, be Silent. [Aside. �Aristom. Proceed, and 'bate those Tears, that stay thy Speech. �Herm . That I have stoop'd below the Blood you gave me, And cast my doating Love upon that Shepherd, (For such he is, altho' a Plume adorns him) My wretched Hand, and now my Tongue confesses : For by that Paper, indiscreetly penn'd, The Secret wou'd be told, shou'd I conceal it. But Oh! my Lord, since you can ne'er forgive me; A sad Recluse for ever let me live, 130 �Or Dye for Love, to do my. Birth more Justice. �Aristom. Be comforted, and farther yet unfold How first you came acquainted with this Shepherd. �Herm. To 'scape the Fury of prevailing Foes, Disguised, I in your absence sought the Plains, And in that Habit heard the pow'rful Sighs Of one that knew not then his own Presumption. �Aristom. Were he a Prince, and still would urge his Suit Wou'd'st thou receive 't, and bless the Pow'rs that sent him ? �Herm. I shou'd not hide my Thoughts, or blush to own them. 140 �Yes, I cou'd bless those Pow'rs which now undo me. �[Demagetus comes forward. �Demag. I cannot wait these Forms; Love plead my Par- don, ��� �
