You think it equal you should not resign
That power you have, yet will not leave me mine;
Yet on my will I have the power alone,
And, since you cannot move it, move your own.
Your worth and virtue my esteem may win,
But women's passions from themselves begin;
Merit may be, but force still is, in vain.
_Gons_. I would but love you, not your love constrain;
And though your brother left me to command,
He placed his thunder in a gentle hand.
_Jul_. Your favour from constraint has set me free,
But that secures not my felicity;
Slaves, who, before, did cruel masters serve,
May fly to deserts, and in freedom starve.
The noblest part of liberty they lose,
Who can but shun, and want the power to chuse.
_Gons_. O whither would your fatal reasons move!
You court my kindness, to destroy my love.
_Jul_. You have the power to make my happiness,
By giving that, which you can ne'er possess.
_Gons_. Give you to Roderick? there wanted yet
That curse, to make my miseries complete.
_Jul_. Departing misers bear a nobler mind;
They, when they can enjoy no more, are kind;
You, when your love is dying in despair,
Yet want the charity to make an heir.
_Gons_. Though hope be dying, yet it is not dead;
And dying people with small food are fed.
_Jul_.
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