_Clo._ These were the Flatteries, Sir, she us’d to me; Of her it was I learn’d to speak, and sigh, And look, as oft you say, I do on you.
_Fred._ Why then, it seems she made returns?
_Clo._ Ah! Sir, ‘twas I that first was blest, I first the happy Object was belov’d; For, ‘twas a Person, Sir, so much above me,-- It had been Sin to’ve rais’d my Eyes to her; Or by a glance, or sigh, betray my Pain. But Oh! when with a thousand soft Expressions, She did encourage me to speak of Love! --My God! how soon extravagant I grew, And told so oft the story of my Passion, That she grew weary of the repeated Tale, And punish’d my presumption with a strange neglect. [Weeps.
_Clo._ Would suffer me to see her Face no more.
_Clo._ Alas, Sir, I was guilty of no Crime, But that of having told her how I lov’d her; For all I had I sacrific’d to her; --Poor worthless Treasures to any but a Lover; And such you know accept the meanest things, Which Love and a true Devotion do present. When she was present, I found a thousand ways To let her know how much I was her Slave; And absent, still invented new ones, And quite neglected all my little Business; Counting the tedious Moments of the Day By Sighs and Tears; thought it an Age to night, Whose Darkness might secure our happy meeting: But we shall meet no more on these kind Terms. [Sighs.
_Fred._ Come, do not weep, sweet Youth, thou art too young, To have thy blooming Cheeks blasted with sorrow; Thou wilt out-grow this childish Inclination, And shalt see Beauties here, whose every glance Kindle new Fires, and quite expel the old.
_Fred._ When I was first in love, I thought so too, But now with equal ardour I doat upon each new and beauteous Object.
_Fred._ Not so; but when I see them o’er again, I find I love them as I did before.
_Clo._ Oh God forbid, I should be so inconstant! No, Sir, though she be false, she has my Heart, And I can die, but not redeem the Victim.
_Fred._ Away, you little Fool, you make me sad By this resolve: but I’ll instruct you better.
_Clo._ I would not make you sad for all the World. Sir, I will sing, or dance, do any thing That may divert you.
_Fred._ I thank thee, _Philibert_, and will accept Thy Bounty; perhaps it may allay thy Griefs awhile too.