her Woman, bid her bolt the Garden Door on the Inside, that she might not
be Surpriz'd by her Father, if he returned through the Convent, which
done, she ordered her to bring down her Lute, and leave her to her self
in the Garden.

All this Hippolito saw and heard to his inexpressible Content, yet had he
much to do to smother his Joy, and hinder it from taking a Vent, which
would have ruined the only Opportunity of his Life. Leonora withdrew
into an Arbour so near him, that he could distinctly hear her if she
Played or Sung: Having tuned her Lute, with a Voice soft as the Breath of
Angels, she flung to it this following Air:

I.

Ah! Whither, whither shall I fly,
A poor unhappy Maid;
To hopeless Love and Misery
By my own Heart betray'd?
Not by Alexis Eyes undone,
Nor by his Charming Faithless Tongue,
Or any Practis'd Art;
Such real Ills may hope a Cure,
But the sad Pains which I endure
Proceed from fansied Smart.

II.

'Twas Fancy gave Alexis Charms,
Ere I beheld his Face:
Kind Fancy (then) could fold our Arms,