Remember, since you’ve yet a course to run,
          Take care again how you command my death;
          In spite of your designs I draw my breath. 
          Though none but Atis with me had success,
          I now desire, he may Lucretia bless,
          And wish her to surrender up her charms,
          (Just like myself) to his extended arms. 
          If you approve, our peace at once is made: 
          If not—­while I’ve this dog I’m not afraid,
          But you defy:  I dread not swords nor bowl;
          The little dog can warn me of the whole;
          The jealous he confounds; be that no more;
          Such folly hence determine to give o’er. 
          If you, to put restraints on women choose,
          You’ll sooner far their fond affections lose.

          Thewhole our judge conceded;—­could he less? 
          The secret of his recent change of dress
          Was promised to be kept:  and that unknown,
          E’en cuckoldom again might there have flown.

          Ourcouple mutual compensation made,
          Then bade adieu to hill, and dale, and glade.

          Somecritick asks the handsome palace’ fate;
          I answer:—­that, my friend, I shan’t relate;
          It disappeared, no matter how nor when. 
          Why put such questions?—­strict is not my pen. 
          The little dog, pray what of that became? 
          To serve the lover was his constant aim.

          Andhow was that?—­You’re troublesome my friend: 
          The dog perhaps would more assistance lend;
          On new intrigues his master might be bent;
          With single conquest who was e’er content?

          Thefav’rite spaniel oft was missing found;
          But when the little rogue had gone his round,
          He’d then return, as if from work relieved,
          To her who first his services received. 
          His fondness into fervent friendship grew;
          As such gay Atis visited anew;
          He often came, but Argia was sincere,
          And firmly to her vow would now adhere: 
          Old Anselm too, had sworn, by heav’n above;
          No more to be suspicious of his love;
          And, if he ever page became again,
          To suffer punishment’s severest pain.

ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS: 

Twere wrong with hope our fond desires to feed

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