* * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER.

As I was going to send away this enclos'd, _Dorillus_ came with two
letters; oh, you cannot think, _Philander_, with how much reason you
call me fickle maid; for could you but imagine how I am tormentingly
divided, how unresolved between violent love and cruel honour, you
would say 'twere impossible to fix me any where; or be the same thing
for a moment together: there is not a short hour pass'd through the
swift hand of time, since I was all despairing, raging love, jealous,
fearful, and impatient; and now, now that your fond letters have
dispers'd those demons, those tormenting counsellors, and given a
little respite, a little tranquillity to my soul; like states
luxurious grown with ease, it ungratefully rebels against the
sovereign power that made it great and happy; and now that traitor
honour heads the mutineers within; honour, whom my late mighty fears
had almost famish'd and brought to nothing, warm'd and reviv'd by thy
new-protested flames, makes war against almighty love! and I, who but
now nobly resolv'd for love, by an inconstancy natural to my sex, or
rather my fears, am turn'd over to honour's side: so the despairing
man stands on the river's bank, design'd to plunge into the rapid
stream, 'till coward-fear seizing his timorous soul, he views around
once more the flowery plains, and looks with wishing eyes back to the
groves, then sighing stops, and cries, I was too rash, forsakes the
dangerous shore, and hastes away. Thus indiscreet was I, was all for
love, fond and undoing love! But when I saw it with full tide flow in
upon me, one glance of glorious honour makes me again retreat. I
will----I am resolv'd----and must be brave! I cannot forget I am